Do you remember a moment when you felt guilt, shame, or not-enoughness? I’ve had many, but the one that stands out most is a car ride with my 1-year-old daughter. She was crying in the back seat while I was driving—relentlessly, inconsolably. We were just ten minutes from home, but it felt like an eternity. With no way to soothe her, I hit my breaking point.
“Shut up! Just shut up, please!” I yelled.
I’m not proud of that moment. I broke down in tears as soon as we got home. How could I yell at a baby for crying? But it wasn’t just the crying. It was the exhaustion. The sleepless nights. The crushing sense that I didn’t know what I was doing—and whatever I was doing, it wasn’t enough. I was stretched thin trying to keep up at work and still be a decent mom. I was tired. I was depressed.
Having a child demands patience, energy, dedication, and sacrifice. But what I missed most was control—over my own time, my own needs. Before, I decided when to sleep, when to go out, when to relax. Suddenly, someone else held the reins of my schedule, and I felt the pressure to always put her first.
The first time I went out dancing without my partner and daughter, I felt a deep pang of guilt. How could I enjoy myself while my partner stayed home with our infant? I came back in just an hour and a half. The guilt was still there the next time—a girls’ night out with friends. Again, I faced the choice: say no to my friends, or ask my partner to shoulder more responsibility.
This pattern repeated. But I’m lucky. My partner is incredibly supportive and always encouraged me to take time for myself. And even when guilt lingered, I also began to feel something else—a sense of self returning.
As our daughter grew and things got easier, we started taking turns. He’d go biking, I’d go for brunch. He’d catch a basketball game, I’d head to yoga. We found a rhythm. But there was still something missing: us spending time together.
Our first date after having our daughter came 18 months later. We were visiting my in-laws, and they offered to babysit. Sitting down to dinner without chasing a toddler or cleaning up spills felt surreal. We talked, laughed, and shared a glass of wine. It was magical. That one evening rekindled a sense of connection that carried us for months, filled with inside jokes and a revived sense of closeness.
After that, we made the most of visits from our parents. A Broadway show here, a quiet dinner there—even a casual trip to the mall. Still, a part of us wrestled with guilt for leaving her behind.
Recently, something shifted. When she was younger, she’d cry when we left. Now, she says cheerfully, “Have a good time!” We hope that by showing her the value of nurturing friendships and our relationship, we’re giving her a gift—an understanding of how meaningful connections enrich life.
Next challenge: summer at Grandma’s house. Will we be able to leave her there for a few weeks without guilt? Stay tuned.
