If you’re a regular viewer, you’ve noticed we use IPADs for our scripts on 16 WAPT. When I was super pregnant.. and standing up to deliver the news… I often rested that IPAD on my big ole stomach. Very handy….until one day when I felt a little foot kick it back:)
It became sort of a game between Hartley and me. I put the IPAD on my tummy…wait for her inevitable punch or kick…and try not to stumble or stutter through whatever story I was reading at the time.
Today— I’ll go to work and my little kicker won’t be with me.
The emotions are complicated. I’ve always wanted to be a working mom- have a job that I love *and* a sweet baby to raise. But leaving my girl is just as hard as everyone said it would be.
I’ve been trying to put it into words, but my mind keeps going back to a column I read years ago–back when I could only dream of having a baby girl.
The whole thing is worth reading, but here’s how it ends:
There are many reasons mommies work—and they might not be what you think they are. These are mine.
I work because I love it.
I work because scratching the itch to create makes me happy, and that happiness bleeds over into every other area, including how patient and engaged and creative a mother I am.
I work because this nice house and those gymnastics lessons and those sneakers you need to have are all made possible by two incomes.
I work because I want you and your brother to be proud of me.
I work because I did this before you were born, and I’ll still want it to be there after you go off to college.
I work because—despite my being the parent who’s almost always the one walking through the door at 6pm, the one who rarely travels for work, the one who’s keeping track of the fact that the permission slip for the field trip is due tomorrow—you’d never ask your father why he works. His love is a given that long hours at work do nothing to diminish.
I work because even at your young age you’ve absorbed the subtle message that women’s work is less important and valuable—and that the moms who really love their kids don’t do it.
I work because by the time you have your own daughter, I cross my fingers this will not be so.
So, to answer your question: I do love work, but of course I love you and your brother much, much more. If I had to choose, I would choose you guys.
But I’m so happy I don’t have to. And I hope you never do either.
Source: Parenting.com, Sasha Emmons.
So today I’ll go to work. I’ll prop my IPAD on my (slightly) flatter tummy…and no one will kick it back.
I’ll try not to stutter and stumble through my stories as I think of my precious girl…as I wonder what she’s doing.
Whatever it is–wherever she is—I hope she always feels my love…
I hope she finds a passion that becomes her career…