Everyday that I go to work I have a tinge of guilt in that moment
when I realize I will miss an entire day of my boys lives. I won't be
there for any of it. No kissing boo boos, no hugs or cuddles at nap time,
no singing, no dancing, no playing. I'll be lucky to get a good night
hug and kiss in at the end of the day and it's heartbreaking. All of those things are left in the hands
of people that I pray can love my boys as much as I do, though I know
there is no way they could. But we move forward. I try to
remember that playing with other children is good for them, learning to
be in a classroom setting is a skill Zane needs to develop, and
whatever else I can come up with to rationalize my 14 hour days away
from them. This all usually works fine and I don't find myself agonizing
about it all day while I'm at work.
Yesterday was a different story. After doing my morning rounding I sat down to chart and
checked my phone. One new voicemail. A pleasant voice comes on and tells
me that Zane has forgotten his blanket at home and is "very upset"
about it. And could I "just run that by" at some point. My heart sunk, I
knew there was no way I could run anything by and doubted that Zach
could either. The thing about nursing is I can't leave my work day unless he is coming to the ER downstairs, then I could go visit him. Or if I'm in labor, I did leave once when I thought I was having a kid, but it wasn't easy. I knew that in reality Zane would be fine, he wasn't sick
or hurt, but he was "very upset." Zane still struggles with the idea of
being away from me all day and I'm sure naptime is very hard for him there, but usually he at least has his beloved blanket and Mooly to cuddle.
I have pictures of Zane, at every age, looking just like this, asleep, cuddling Mooly and his blanket.
I talked to Zach, who also couldn't "run anything by." I took a
minute and tried to move past it. I went on about my day until a few hours
later I couldn't pin point why I felt sick to my stomach, like
something terrible was happening, even though I was having a pretty good day. I
knew I was stressed about our house situation, because that always
weighs on me, but I had never really felt this physically ill about it before. Then I put
it all together. It was mommy guilt exemplified. Mommy guilt to the
extreme. I knew that Zane was having a rough day, "very upset," probably
crying, and so sad, but there was nothing I could do about. I could fix it all by just walking into the room, but instead I would be taking care of other people's children for another ten hours. It was a
devistating feeling, that I had to consciously try to surpress all day
long. I'm sure it wasn't that big of a deal to him, he probably was over
it by the time I listened to that voicemail. But for me the thought of my children feeling any kind of discomfort or stress due to something I could have prevented or because of something I did/didn't do is the worst feeling in the world. Even when it's something as silly as a blanket.
When I got home from work and asked Zane how his day had been he said, after a very heavy sigh, "well I not have my bwanket or Mooley, so I was berry sad. I not cry, I just berry sad..... all day." Oh he played it up, with his little head down and puppy dog eyes. I think he even busted out some little sniffles in there somewhere. "Mommy they say they call you, but you not bring it to me. Why you not bring me my bwanket?" Crushing blow to my soul. I didn't show up when he thought I was going to or thought I should. There was nothing to be done, but he couldn't understand that. "Mommy I was berry cold to nap time. My toes were berry freezing." Because anyone who has seen his paper thin, stretched out blanket, can tell you it would really keep him warm. But I could tell his feelings were hurt and it had been a tough day.
Mommy guilt is my least favorite part of parenting. Or maybe the time I'm forced to be away from them is my least favorite part. I think it would be made easier if I had a job were I truly loved being there or found ot really fulfilling to me. That isn't really were I am now in my life. It's a job, it's fine, and it's only three days a week. I can bare it because I get to be with my kids the other four days. But missing entire days of their lives is not getting easier and I'm not getting use to it.











