Parenting
Updated: Jan. 17, 2020
Originally Published: Jan. 17, 2020
Being a mom can be a challenging journey. There are days filled with uncertainty where I question if I’m making the right choices for my family and myself. But my daughter has shown me that I am indeed making the impact I always hoped for.
Let me tell you about my husband, Jake. He’s a wonderful partner—everyone adores him. He’s patient, kind, fun, smart, and an exceptional father. From the moment I learned I was pregnant, he was ready to dive in and help. He bought me a pregnancy pillow, helped with my socks every night despite my swollen feet, and cheered me on during labor so enthusiastically that I found myself smiling through the contractions. After two hours of pushing, my beloved husband became a dad.
Since he’s a teacher, when our daughter was born that early summer, he was around to support me. I was able to shower daily, eat regular meals, and handle laundry without feeling overwhelmed. Eager to include him, I took a backseat whenever possible, even though I was a breastfeeding mom trying her best. It might have been that I felt overwhelmed despite having a constant support system.
From the moment I gave birth, I was anxious about returning to work. With a grueling four-hour daily commute via public transport, I knew I’d only have a couple of hours with my baby—mostly spent in drop-offs and bedtime routines. Sitting in my hospital gown, I couldn’t help but feel envious of Jake, who would be able to pick her up at 3:00 p.m. and bond with her. I constantly worried about how she would adjust to being with strangers, and I even hesitated to hold her as often as I wanted, fearing that in a room full of babies, she might cry for hours. Could a 12-week-old even be prepared for that?
Alas, summer ended, and Jake returned to work. I was left alone with my little girl, and to be honest, much of that time is a blur. I worried about her weight due to my struggles with breastfeeding, and while I remember some tummy time and dress-up photo sessions, what stands out most is the joy on Jake’s face when he came home. Seeing him with our daughter melted my heart, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety as my 12 weeks of maternity leave came to an end.
There were bright spots. I genuinely liked my job—it was rewarding and engaging. My amazing boss even allowed me to work from home twice a week, which eased the burden of my commute and helped me adjust to daycare. I’ll always be grateful for that opportunity. But on commuting days, I was up at 5 a.m., pumping milk and getting ready before waking my sleepy infant, all because I had a train to catch.
On my first day back, I cried while getting her ready until, out of nowhere, she fountain-peed all over me. It was a moment of chaos that turned into laughter, and I found my determination to get it all done.
We were always the first to arrive at daycare at 6:30 a.m. I had to catch the 6:52 train, so this routine required extensive preparation and precision. I dropped off bottles—half formula, half breast milk—since I couldn’t pump enough for a full day. After kissing her goodbye, I’d dash to the train, praying I’d make it. Most days I did, but by the time I reached my desk at 8:30 a.m., I was utterly exhausted.
The commute home wasn’t much better—sprinting for trains, trying to squeeze in a few minutes of playtime before feeding her and putting her to bed, and then launching into the second shift of household chores. This exhausting routine continued for a year, until it became clear that a change was necessary. I made the tough decision to leave my stimulating job and return to a previous career, knowing it would entail a significant pay cut but also a much shorter commute and the chance to be closer to my daughter.
Initially, I thought this was my moment to shine, to be my daughter’s hero while my beloved husband took a back seat. I know it’s not a competition, but as a wise fictional racer once put it, “If you’re not first, you’re last!”
When the new job began, it was not what I had envisioned. I connected instantly with my new colleagues, but the demands were overwhelming, with late nights and weekend work. My days became a blur of Moana and Sing, as I turned to TV to help manage my mornings with my daughter.
Even though my commute was just five minutes, I was still juggling the responsibility of getting her ready alone while my husband left early for work. This newfound “moment” turned into a stressful balancing act—trying to manage meltdowns and work obligations while feeling like I was losing the bond I wanted to strengthen with my daughter. I often found myself relying on movies to create a little breathing room.
Feeling defeated, I struggled with the sense of inadequacy as a mother, and my role as a wife fell lower on my list of priorities. The competition I had built between my husband and myself faded as I became increasingly stressed. I wish I could have stepped back and recognized the signs that I was a significant figure in my daughter’s life.
It wasn’t until I switched jobs once more that I began to see a shift. This third position was a serendipitous match—it felt right, with supportive bosses and a healthier work-life balance. I learned to take a step back and truly listen to my daughter.
When she said, “Mama, come watch Moana with me,” it was her way of saying, “Mama, I need your attention now,” which really meant “Mama, I need a snuggle.” I began to notice how she mirrored my actions—whether it was switching her fork to match mine or giving me hugs when I wasn’t feeling well.
Over the past year, I’ve experienced moments of joy instead of despair, and my conversations with Jake have shifted from bickering to appreciation for one another’s contributions.
Just last week, as I was putting my daughter to bed, I asked if she wanted her wild curls up or down. She replied, “I want them up, just like you, Mama.” My heart swelled with pride. She is my partner in crime, and I’m grateful to have finally recognized that bond.
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Summary
The journey of motherhood can be filled with challenges, self-doubt, and the desire to make the right choices. Through the ups and downs, the author learns that her daughter looks up to her, revealing the powerful impact she has as a mother. By recognizing her daughter’s need for connection and affection, she shifts her perspective and appreciates the bond they share, ultimately finding joy in her parenting journey.
Keyphrase: Motherhood journey
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