Midnight is a bitch of an hour. It’s dark. It’s deathly silent (well, until your baby wakes up coughing and screaming). It’s brutally honest. And it’s in the dark, honest silence where I often find myself asking life’s biggest questions as I gently rock my baby boy back to sleep. I rub my cheek on the top of his head, closing my eyes as his soft hair tickles my face. This is something I have done since his newborn days, his short, fine blonde hair is soft and almost soothing against my skin.
Last night as I tried desperately to get him back to sleep, I kept wondering if I was enough or if I was doing good enough. I thought about my upcoming work trips and recalled earlier that day when he’d cried for me when I left the room. That was not even five minutes, how is he going to handle the 2 day trip this week or the 3 day one in two weeks. How am I going to handle this? In prior months, he barely noticed I was gone as his little brain didn’t make short-term memories. He literally lived in the moment. But now he notices when I am gone and he gets really excited when I return – his welcoming smiles and giggles when I pick him up from daycare are the highlight of my day.
Perhaps that’s the curse of being a working mother. I enjoy my job and I thrive in my career, they both fulfill me in a way that family cannot. But, I also love my son and I love my husband and they provide me with the love and fulfillment that a career cannot. Despite the fulfillment my career provides, it doesn’t replace the moments lost or firsts missed. I know that I cannot and will not ever get those back, but I also know that one day I hope my son will beam with pride as he talks about me and tells his classmates that his mom does something cool for a living.
For a living. That’s what we work for, right? We work to provide a life we can enjoy. We don’t live for work and finding that balance can be difficult. My evenings and weekends belong to my family and the occasional “me” time. I work to ensure I don’t work during that time, ironic isn’t it?
To take it a step further, I work for a living so I can truly enjoy the life and love of my family. We don’t have to worry and we don’t carry the burden of bills, groceries or other necessities. We have enough and for that I am grateful. Money doesn’t bring happiness, but it can add a layer of safety and comfort. Having spent much of my adult life not having enough, I thoroughly enjoy being able to contribute and help provide for our family.
Some will argue that isn’t enough to make up for the time lost. They will ask how I can let a stranger raise my child. Won’t I miss out, they’ll muse. For them maybe it isn’t. But for me, I know deep down that I am making the choices that matter to my family. I can’t get back the time I spend at work, but I can make up for it in love. My son knows I am his mama and he knows that I am the one who is there when he needs me. His teachers at daycare are not strangers, they have become extended family members. And I assure you neither my son, nor I are missing out. I will be there for every milestone, every school event and every bump and bruise along the way. That is what matters to me.
Now, in the clarity of the daylight, I can see that I am enough. My husband and I are all that our son needs and we are more than enough.