“I don’t have the time” is perhaps the one phrase I repeat every day to family, friends and myself. Where is all the time going, you may ask? Let me start by declaring that I recently joined back work, after my daughter, Meher, turned one. Not work-from-home, not part-time, but full-time office going work.  I was working before, but never was the weight of the job and household been so daunting. What happened? Or what changed?

As a new mother, I had read, followed and watched countless testimonials on how to deal with the change that is being a working-mother. The child of a working mother all my life, I figured how hard could it be! So, I started work brushing aside the heavy notions of “mom guilt”, “double shift” and “mental load”. Like most from my generation, I was determined to soldier on. As we strive for gender equality, especially at our workplaces, we as women often feel it imperative to show that we are no different from men and that childbirth doesn’t change us. I slowly came to question this notion.

To be honest, getting back to work with a small baby at home is brutal. Perhaps, the first month is a struggle more for the mother than the child. Leaving Meher home, the first few mornings, when she would cry and leap into my arms, only made me leave in tears. I had wanted to call her every hour. See her face on video. Any free time was invariably spent dialing home and checking in if she had eaten. The world could be unraveling before me, but Meher’s timetable would work like clockwork in my conscience. 

As I would rush to get home, there she would be waiting at the door. With only “Mumma” in her dictionary, then her welcome would melt away the days fatigue. We would go to the park, if not late, and then come back for her dinner time. Evening play, reading, night time bath and milk all became sacrosanct rituals. Initially, much like mom-guilt, the child also overcompensates, for she would stay up till 12, way past her bedtime. It was like she was making up for the hours Mumma was gone during the day. By the time she would sleep, I’d drop dead, sometimes even before saying good night to my husband.

The next morning, paucity of time would again be the reigning emotion. From Meher’s waking to changing to her breakfast, mornings would go in daze. Throw in the household chores of ordering groceries, setting the menu and managing the help, and the mornings would resemble a fire drill with the alarms blaring. Initially, Meher would cry from the moment she would see me go to change. Between teaching her that Mumma goes to office and trying to sneak out by distracting her, every trick in the trade would be tried. 

Offices don’t relent either. You can be a new mother joining back after a break, but work doesn’t always ease you in. It was like getting back together with an ex, where you know the expectations, the asks and the challenges, but the distance has only grown making the memory only a faint reflection of reality. With a lot to learn and relearn, the uphill task of settling back at work was also daunting. So, while I would be fully aware of what Meher was having for lunch and snack that day, my own work would make me skip lunch. All I’d want is to get home in time in the evening. On reaching home, the same schedule would repeat. 

The above went on for almost 45 days. And so between office and Meher, there was no time for anything else. But perhaps, most for myself. And that was the biggest challenge. With friends in the same boat as me, I have had the privilege of an unfiltered outlet of my emotional journey. I don’t shy away from admitting that it that it is not easy. Straddling two worlds is not easy. Working and mothering together is not easy. The double shift is all too real and the mental toll is exhausting. Many, especially in the workspace, have said that “so and so manages it all”, “she came right back” or “she hasn’t changed”. Maybe there are women out there who can have it all. But for every mother, I am sure there is a journey, though the runway may vary.

It’s only now, two months into this cycle, can I say I am slowly regaining myself of control of my life, time and priorities. Yes, my day hasn’t changed much from the above schedule, but mental tenacity has expanded. Now, my daughter waves at me when I leave in the morning. She has learnt to say “mumma office” and somewhere understands weekends are days she gets her mom 100%. And so, we have both found our rhythm. A child changes your constitution. I am not the same person I was before my Meher was born. My concept of self has changed. And consequently, so has my role as a spouse, child, and friend. I just hope one can be as vocal about the challenges as one is about the joys of motherhood, for acknowledging is half the battle.