All my life I knew I was meant to be a mom. If I was not successful in any other aspect, becoming a mom would be my thing. When I found out I was pregnant I could not be happier. Finally, my dreams were coming true! The first time I held my son was magic. He was perfectly healthy and was with me from recovery through our whole hospital stay. Even my c-section recovery went so much better than I could have imagined. The first time we tried breastfeeding my son latched like a champ. Even with our revolving door of visitors from day one, I felt complete.

I had always planned on returning to work after 3 months. Having a working mom myself and being in a family where most moms worked I knew that was was what I had to do. I knew my family needed that extra income. We would not be able to sustain our wonderful lives without my income. What I didn’t plan on is all the GUILT I would feel when I returned to work and how HARD juggling work and being a mom would be.

I am a high school teacher and I became a teacher because of the schedule. To be completely honest, I was tired of working the nights and weekends required of the theatre and I knew I did not want to have that schedule when I started a family. So being a teacher would be perfect right? Wrong! I’m a drama teacher and that means staying after school for rehearsals, evening student performances, and weekend competitions. Maybe not all arts teachers put in this amount of work but these students are like my kids and I give them my all when in the classroom. It would be a disservice to them if I was not preparing them to showcase their skills or giving them the opportunity perform in plays and musicals. Part of me thought I would nail this work and motherhood thing. I even told my students I would show up to their competition just 1 week after having my baby but boy was I in for a reality check.

The day I returned work, I cried. Not because I didn’t want to be there but because I was so heartbroken that I had to leave my son for the whole day. I kept myself busy with the students. We played theatre games that they love so much and we just started to trust each other again. They asked about the baby, we looked at pictures, it was great. During lunch I face-timed with our nanny (my aunt), and when the last bell rang I was out the door. I had pumped 3 times throughout the day: once in the car on the way to work, once during my lunch break, and once on my way home. Day 1 was not horrible.

As the days went on though it just got harder and harder. Pumping was starting to be taxing on my body. I had started producing less milk than usual. I was stressing about not making enough milk for the baby to have while I was away. Students kept coming to my door during lunch (and it stressed me out even though I would ignore them), teachers would need things, I needed to get grades done, I needed to deal with parents and students and it was too much.

Then work got even harder. I was collaborating with the chorus teacher to put on a musical at the school. I was hosting daily rehearsals after school from 2:45pm – 4 pm from Monday through Friday. I was still pumping on my way to work, during lunch, and fitting in a quick pump between the 2:30 bell and 2:45 pm rehearsal. Then I would drive home to nurse the baby, cook dinner, and put the baby to bed. I felt like I barely got to spend time with the baby and then when I was home, the baby would nap and I just felt like a milk machine and thats all I was good for.

During this time I was gaining weight, I was miserable, and my milk supply was dropping. When the baby started eating food I barely nursed him and was exclusively pumping at that point. I wasn’t feeling that beautiful connection that people talk about with breastfeeding. Eventually, after six months, I decided to stop breastfeeding. This decision was the best thing I decided to do for my mental health. I was finally able to truly enjoy my son.

I decided when I was home I would devote all my time to him since I really only had 3 solid hours with him and then it was bath, bottle, and bed time. After that, I spent the last remaining hours enjoying time with my hubby. In order to accomplish this I would need to make some changes to my schedule. I decided to start waking up 30 minutes early to workout (to start feeling like me again). I decided to shorten my rehearsals to an hour or rehearse during class time instead of after school. I starting cleaning on Saturdays (and not stressing if it didn’t happen). I also started cooking for the week on Sundays.

If any of that didn’t get done, I would not stress because at the end of the day what was important to me was the time I could share with my family. Time is something that you can never get back. It is the most precious thing we have. I try to make the most out of our short time together. Even when life gets stressful, or the dishes pile up, family time is family time and everything else can wait.