denial
Posted: July 29, 2008 Filed under: Uncategorized 10 Comments »There’s a giant elephant in my brain and it is called work.
I do not want to go back to work. I do not want to go back to work. I do not want to go back to work. I do not want to go back to work. I do not want to go back to work. I do not want to go back to work.
I have to go back to work. I have to go back to work. I have to go back to work. I have to go back to work. I have to go back to work. I have to go back to work. I have to go back to work. I have to go back to work.
Seriously, as much as I know that we could rearrange our whole lives and all live together in a studio apartment or something, we can’t REALLY. We can’t move to a tiny apartment that we can afford on one salary with me and the dogs and the cats and the teenager and the baby and Wes. And so. The mortgage. The giant mortgage and the hemorrhaging money pit. And the expensive taste, even when we curtail it, and the need for organic baby food. Yes, NEED. And so… work.
Right now I am just ignoring it because the fear and sadness and terror is too big to face. I basically have to just know that I will do it and it will suck and then eventually it will suck less.
I was talking to meanmama about it the other night while drinking a Cosmo. And I cried. And I was so ashamed. I was blathering on about how precious my boy is, what a fabulous person he is to spend time with, how jealous I am that my mother-in-law will get to spend her days with him. And I cried a little. But why was I so embarrassed? Crying in front of an old friend about the difficulty of leaving a hard-won baby to go back to work? What’s the big deal?
And thus we unpeel yet another layer of Mom Stuff. We know it’s in there. It just uncovers itself one bit at a time, doesn’t it? Mom went back to work when I was about 2 weeks old. She never professed sadness over working. She worked hard and long hours. She may have felt guilty but never was apologetic. She went out for drinks after work sometimes, too, and I would cry when she called me to say she wasn’t coming home yet but she did it anyway because she wanted to. The journal that she wrote when pregnant with me and sporadically for a year or so after does not mention any hardship she felt in going back to work. I honestly don’t think it was a huge problem for her.
Instead of questioning this, thinking that perhaps my mother’s work ethic was a tad bit skewed or that she was a slightly negligent mother, I naturally hoisted her onto the pedestal. The Dead Mom Pedestal, on which qualities and values of the Dead Mom may not be questioned and must instead be emulated and praised and held holy forever amen.
And so I assumed I would return to work, ready and thrilled to ditch the baby.
And honestly, if I could have gone back when Beck was two weeks old, I might have felt just like that. Hell, I think I would have done better when he was 4 or even 5 months old, too. When he was a lump who sucked me dry all day and didn’t give back more than an occasional coo… I could have ditched him and not looked back. And probably would have been a better mom when I was with him.
I can still say that I look forward to being a good mom when I am with him. I believe working moms can often be the most balanced kind of moms because they don’t end up fixated to quite the same degree for quite so many years. But I can’t say that I feel an urge to ditch him. Rather, my urge is to bolt from the couch where I sit typing this and RUN to his room and SCOOP him up from his crib where he is half asleep and babbling and hug him to me and never let him go not ever. My urge, if I am honest, is to take him and run away to a cave somewhere and let no one ever part us. Seriously, I am crying again now. My stomach is LURCHING with the idea that I can’t do this every day all day.
I keep telling myself that I will write my book this year and then I will be able to quit working for a year or two. It is a good motivation. The problem is that in order to actually DO the work of writing, I have to spend yet MORE time not with my baby. I can go to a cafe and write after he goes to bed, but I am not sure it is sustainable. We will see. But I anticipate being tired sometimes. Taking a chunk of time on a weekend seems like it would work better. But I am not sure I am willing to miss so much of the weekend. We will see. We will see. We will just keep going and see what happens. Let’s not even get into the part about how my book may be a pile of crap and my dreams ridiculous and quickly-dashed. Let’s not get into that part, OK?
I like staying home. I thought I wouldn’t. I like not working. I thought I enjoyed my job. I don’t need to multitask, at least not in any way beyond the XTreme Mom Multitasking required of all SAHparents. I enjoy a limited focus to my days, the fact that I have ONE important thing to worry about most of the time and that ONE important thing is the MOST important thing I have ever done or made and the cutest, too. I like this mom thing.
And he hugs me. And kisses me. When asked. And of his own accord. Sometimes he is playing and he crawls over and just gives me this GIANT grin and hugs me like crazy. And I just can’t believe I don’t get to have that all day every day. I just can’t. I am just not thinking about it.
I feel for you…when Eva was a newborn, before I went back to work after 9 weeks, I always had this dreadful feeling that once I went back to work she wouldn’t be mine anymore, like our time was limited and I was going to run out of her. I don’t feel that way anymore. But she’s also in the terrible twos and some days I am so glad she is with SOMEONE ELSE. But there is nothing like that my moment when I pick her up at the end of the day and she declares: “My so happy to see you!”
ok, no fair making me tear up when you wrote that you were early on (and also with the Dead Parent Pedastal) and then this:
“Sometimes he is playing and he crawls over and just gives me this GIANT grin and hugs me like crazy.”
now there are sloppy tears threatening my spelling abilities (cant see the screen well, cant check the spelling) because you reminded me of a dream i had of my future son… in which i was sitting cross-legged on the floor and he was all of a sudden walking into and collapsing into my arms and hugging the hell out of me. and it was The Mommy Hug. i could tell her was mine. it was not an Aunt Gypsy Hug or a Miss Gypsy Hug… it was You Are My Mommy abandonment and flopping into my arms… it was heaven.
and now i think i want it. (so totally on a tangent here…sorry)
you will be OK. it will suck leaving him and there will be a lot of tears (yours) but it will suck less… and just think of the reunions at the end of the day and how mammoth those Beck-Hugs will be!!!
love ya,
gypsy
You have my complete and total sympathy. I loved hearing you wax poetic about your babylove the other night. I don’t feel like you do about staying home (meaning I like to work), but hearing anyone talk about anything in her life with such passion is wonderful – you have no reason to be embarrassed or ashamed. Your compatibility with a singular focus, among other things/qualities, does make you a great candidate for the SAH life, I believe. And I also believe that eventually, if you find that you are truly miserable at work/not with Beck, you all will find a way to beg, borrow, steal to make SAH possible and still have the other things you need to lead your life in a livable way. That way may not be possible or imaginable now, however, which makes this all the more difficult I’m sure.
I recall you used to be a believer in/advocate of moms going back to work eventually, so it must put you in a real tailspin to now feel something else. But that doesn’t make your new feelings wrong. We all love our kids more than we can ever say… I’m sure your mom did too. But we all react to *being* with our kids 24/7 in different ways. That you enjoy most of your time with your son is a fact and nothing to apologize to anyone for, just as I shouldn’t have to apologize for working. Doing what you enjoy is part of what makes you a good mom- you enjoy Beck (almost) 24/7. And lastly, who knows- you may actually like to work. Probably not, but you never know until you try, as they say.
delurking to say I felt the same way when I went back to work when my son was 3.5 months old. and I felt like that again two weeks ago when I went to netroots for a whopping 48 hours. now that I think of it, I also feel a little like that every Monday — especially after a good weekend. but here’s the thing — in addition to good things like having enough money to pay the mortgage and keeping my career alive for when I finally care about it again, my son loves (LOVES) his daycare. I find myself in the unexpected position of feeling locked into my job, which is physically near his school, to enable him to keep going to this place where he’s thriving, while all I want to do is move our family into a cheaper house and quit work to spend every day with him. I guess you never know how things will work out, but they seem to. and I’m sure most moms will tell you that the anticipation of going back to work is far, far worse than actually going to work. still, I’m so jealous of his caregivers that some days I sort of hate them.
Your arc has been so amazing to watch, adorable and touching and amazing.
I could not do it and I feel for you so much.
I wish you peace in whatever happens.
I know, I think it might be a bit easier to go back when they are younger, before they get really fun. I really sympathize with your situation. I know it will be hard – you should always feel free to cry, complain, commiserate.
delurking to say that i know your pain and sadness.. with my first, went back after 4 months. There were fun moments (new short, zippy haircut to go with new work.mom life) and there were crushing moments (boobs leaking mid-sentence at a meeting; coming home to see nanny kissing Henry and making him squeal with laughter.. “OH — MIA — loooook Henry… MAMA came HOME… let’s tell her what we DID today!). oooh. yeah. where’s my tazer?
ahem. then, with my 2nd, well. things just never got back to full time work. I’m sort of splitting the difference and going back to school, and consulting p/t till that starts. I have a nanny, but I’m also around alot. With school, will have classes once a day and tons of reading, but flex schedule to see the kids..summers off and school breaks too (like the only librarian I know from afar). i just know the strict 9-5 would be tough — but Bri — that won’t be your deal, right? No one ever told me that this HappySadness would be so deep. I miss them when they’re away from me, even as my eyes droop from lack of sleep and physical exercise and a desire to explore more other stuff. yikes — better get some work done before rushing home to make dinner (case in point). Mac n cheese with “wokolli” (brocolli) anyone?
The anticipation will suck hard, and then the first few weeks will suck hard, and then–and this is based STRICTLY on MY experience–you may well ease into a routine that doesn’t suck at all, and you’ll find that you actually like working. But if it just continues to suck and suck, and you don’t like it, and you can’t bear the apart-ness, then you will know that maybe it’s time to consider that whole one-salary scenario.
Apropos of nothing, I saw a car in my Target parking lot last night whose license plate read “WESTRY.”
I was a wreck the first day I left P at home while I went to class. (He’s 4 and a half.) He got over it, I got over it and now I literally rush out the door every morning.
This is why my cousin Kathleen says she’s coming back as a dad in her next life. All of the adoration with none of the guilt.
As a SAHM myself, I could tell you all about the boredom and the struggle for an identity and the eternal nagging feeling that I have betrayed my younger, starry-eyed self as well as the feminist movement (along with maybe my parents who paid good money for me to have a college education). But as you know from your past year, it’s also wonderful, too. It’s part of the whole motherhood extravaganza–whatever you’re doing, you’re going to feel some aching longing for something else.
As for early working moms, I found a few old Ms. magazines in a thrift shop last year, and those women were so happy and excited to be working! I think the thrill of not being chained to the washing machine was still new enough that any guilt sort of faded. Now we’re stuck with the real complexity of the situation, which always sort of sucks.
Incidentally, I have no doubt you could write a very successful book.