I am back at work today – after staying away for nearly 8 months from what I knew as active work. What’s the feeling like? Well, to be honest, today morning as I walked the plush carpeted corridors amidst the familar sounds of key strokes and the team-mate chatter and coffee-cup clinks, I felt happy to be back. But that immediately had me feeling guilty – here I am, staying away from my baby – the tiny little being all of 5.5 months – whose strongest bond is with me – his mother; shouldn’t I be pining to be back with him? I realized with a pang, that as much as I wanted to be back with him – hear him coo and gurgle and flash his priceless toothless grin at me with the little jig he reserves for me when I warble his favourite phrases or rhymes; I also liked being back at work, away from the four walls at home.
Many times over the past month and a half when I stayed at home with the little one, managing on my own with just the hubby’s support, I found myself losing patience – particularly at times when he would be super-cranky and would wail for unknown reasons; feeding, rocking, singing – nothing would soothe him and my nerves would be frayed; I would be miserable for being unable to pacify him and angry at myself for being affected so much 😦 That would have me worrying at nights – am I a bad mother? I suppose this is a question every mother asks herself at one time or the other.
It is at such times that my respect for the stay-at-home-mothers (SAHMs) would increase manifold. I salute these women – really, it is no easy job (if I can call it that), taking care of one’s children, handling the multitude of problems that keeps popping up and more importantly staying sane amidst it all and being happy for doing what one’s doing. I realize it is not as easy as it seems – our society especially has been notorious for labeling such women as ‘mere’ housewives, since ages. You really gotta be a house-wife once to know what it involves.
But I also realize, it is not really my cup of tea, atleast now, at the present stage of my life. 5 years down the line, who knows? I might feel like being one of them. But then, would it be too late? Isn’t it now that my baby needs me the most? Won’t I be missing out on all the joy of seeing him grow everyday as a baby and turn into a toddler? Once he grows and begins school, he might not miss me so much. He will then have a small world of his own – his playmates, his friends and others. Isn’t it now that I am his world? (well mostly… his dad wouldn’t agree though! :D)
How does one strike a balance between these needs – my need as an individual to identify myself – as a mother and outside of being a mother? I am so confused and sad! 😦