Angela from Who’s the Boss? made motherhood appear effortlessly simple. You snag the prestigious agency job, welcome a baby, hire a charming (retired pro baseball player) housekeeper, and navigate motherhood with a few awkward nude scenes thrown in. As a child, I envied her seemingly perfect life.
However, once I landed my own career and welcomed a baby, reality hit hard. The notion that everything would fall into place was nothing but a myth.
It didn’t dawn on me right away. After devouring numerous books about “having it all,” I realized that I didn’t magically know whether I was meant to be a stay-at-home mom or to continue my career. Many women don’t even have the luxury of choice. But when my twelve weeks of maternity leave came to an end, I was met with a whirlwind of overwhelming emotions. The moment I delivered my baby, I seemed to inherit a heavy dose of guilt.
I first felt it as I closed the door behind me to head back to work after those exhausting weeks of maternity leave. Leaving my little one—my precious newborn who could do little more than drool and whose face was the epitome of cluster feedings—felt monumental. That gesture represented so much more. A wave of longing and pain washed over me. My partner, Jonathan, gently ushered me toward the elevator while I fought back tears that threatened to ruin my carefully applied makeup.
But I adored my job. It felt like instinct and logic were on either shoulder, battling like angels and devils. I thought if I pushed myself just a little harder, I could continue to thrive in my career. I was the first in my family to graduate from college, and many women before me had paved the way for working moms. I could do this. I wanted to make it work.
Then came the reality of work travel. Just the thought of it—months in advance—intensified that guilt, making it flourish until departure day. Traveling to distant places was the hardest; FaceTime calls were rushed and often coincided with meltdowns—mine or my baby’s. Sure, the thrill of landing in a new city was exhilarating, but that excitement quickly faded as I turned my phone back on to check for new photos or video messages from my family back home.
Nonetheless, big meetings and brainstorming sessions still ignited a spark of enthusiasm within me. For a while, I felt like my work mattered. I collaborated with clients who challenged me, all while contributing positively to the world.
But gradually, that passion began to fade.
I was about thirty-eight minutes into a conference call when a text from the babysitter popped up with pictures of my kids at the park. As soon as I wrapped up the call, one question echoed in my mind: “What am I doing?”
Three weeks ago, I made the decision to leave my job. I’m uncertain if I’ll manage as a stay-at-home mom. There’s a good chance I might be begging for my old job back within a month. I’m not known for my culinary skills. I usually make multiple trips back into the house just to leave for the day, and that’s on a good day. Patience is not my strong suit. I’m also a compulsive shopper, terrible at sticking to a budget.
Do my kids even want to spend all day with me? Who knows. What’s clear is that this dilemma is one of motherhood’s most contentious issues, often forcing women into opposing camps, which is absurd. We all grapple with guilt, balance, and the desire to have it all.
Sure, some women, like Angela, are confident in their career paths, while others know they want to stay home. Yet, the majority of us find ourselves in a confused middle ground—feeling guilty for either choice. What we truly need is to lean into each other, fostering support and meaningful conversations around this topic.
Three weeks into my new journey, I’m feeling optimistic. I’m confident that this choice is right for me and my family, at least for now. Recognizing that will make that next heart-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwich at the park all the sweeter.
This article was originally published on July 13, 2013.