I never thought that it was this uneasy to be a working mom. It’s not that you have wake up earlier than ever: to clean a breast-pump, feeding bottles, cook sometimes, wash clothes sometimes, and take care some other things at home. It’s also not about that I have less “me-time” to just take an hour or two watching films on Youtube, or cinema; or go to a shopping mall to sit and chat with a couple of close friends. It’s also not about that I have to wake in mid night to change a diaper or feed my baby.
It was the hardest thing to see your sweet, innocent, cheerful little daughter who has fallen asleep in your hugs, but soon within the next minutes you have you leave her at home, “alone”. And when it was my first day back to work after 3 months of maternity leave (meaning I have almost 3 months seeing my baby growing in her every minutes), I cried along the way to my office. And it just needs a minute or two to miss your little baby girl.
The thing is completely different. Five to ten years ago, I said to my self that I will be a mom who will be just able to leave my kids at home, to do some academic research here and there. Even if it takes for weeks, or months. And all will be ok. I was dreaming to be a lecturer and researcher at the time, and I saw one of my aunt was doing so and everything was just fine and great. But then, it turns to be completely wrong, just after I raise my own kid. I do not want–and will not be able–to leave my kids for all those things.
to be continued