Boomer Connections This Boomer's Life

When I speak of one of my hardest days, I want you to know it wasn’t the worst day of my life. It didn’t involve losing someone I loved, and it wasn’t some terrible tragedy. Yet, even after all of these years, I remember it as so difficult that I still tear up and I feel the anxiety all over again each time I recall that day.

One of the hardest days of my life was the first day I dropped off my 8-week-old daughter at day care. Even though I was a new Mom, I was sure I could easily handle the stress. I was a mature, capable 35-year-old career woman…and military wife with several wars already under my belt. “I’m tough. I got this!” I thought. But I was oh so very, very wrong.

My heart was heavy as I wrapped up my baby girl that morning. I got all of the diapers, toys and bottles of formula set for the day…and then got myself ready to return to work. That was the first challenge. In the past 8 weeks I had come to love my daughter with my whole heart. Now that same heart felt like it was being ripped out.

My husband and I went in to the day care center together to hand her over to “baby jail.” As we did so, he looked at me and I saw the same doubt I was feeling reflected in his eyes. How could we do this? The center was busy, even hectic…and the teachers already looking frazzled at that early hour. It was a nice place and it had been highly recommended, but to us it felt and smelled like an institution. At home there had been peace, warmth, the sweet scent of baby powder. Some of the babies were in cribs. The caregivers were busy changing and feeding others. Since our daughter was awake but not demanding anything, she was placed in an infant swing. This was totally safe, but to our eyes like a holding pen. This is how we tearfully left her, nodding off alone in a baby swing while activity swirled around her. No one had time for our angst and we didn’t either…we were already late…so off we went, back to work.

At that moment,  my life definitively changed. The past year had come with so many new experiences and emotions: the pregnancy, the planning, the preparation, the classes, the showers, the celebrations, the birth…joy, doubt and fear all at the same time. Yet it was as I was leaving the day care center that reality hit. Nothing about the way I had arranged my life adequately prepared me for the hardest day I was about to spend.

As a late Boomer graduating from college in the 80s, my generation was reaping the benefits of the Feminist Revolution. Every young woman I knew in college was, like me, focused on a career. Children were for later. According to my original life plan, marriage was for later as well. Yet in spite of my plans to delay, I fell in love and married my college sweetheart when we were both 24. But I didn’t give up on my dream of a career…yet. I knew my husband wanted a family, he knew I had doubts, but we were so young, and naively assumed we would work it out someday.

As I set out as a working person, I surrounded myself with people like me, who validated my choice to focus on career, not children. These friends all had the same plans and schedules. We had similar goals, the same freedoms…and the additional disposable income. I got used to this lifestyle, and became increasingly doubtful of the heavy responsibilities that came with parenting. How could you do both well, be a good parent and a good worker? I had a hard time understanding that dynamic. However, as my 30s started to tick by, it became clear “someday” had arrived. In my heart I knew that, as difficult as it was for me to imagine and accept the life changes that come with being a (good) parent, raising a child was a human experience I wanted to have. Life presents difficult choices, at some point you simply have to “feel the fear and do it anyway.”

So, back to the door of the daycare center as I got ready to step out into a new reality. At 8 weeks into parenthood, my husband and I were strung out and exhausted. In a way I looked forward to getting back into the familiar territory of the office where things were orderly and understandable. Having a baby at 35 had taken me way outside my comfort zone. But something happened in those 8 weeks that I didn’t quite anticipate. I fell so hard for that baby. All I could think of as I began the work day was that no one could care for her like I could. But I needed this job…not for the money, but for myself. I felt like my career, now at its mid point, would be irrevocably compromised if I bowed out or pulled back at this juncture. I was so terribly conflicted. I know this same scenario plays out each day for millions of working parents. It’s hard to say goodbye each morning, especially to the littlest ones.

Sixteen years have passed since that first trip to daycare. Everything worked out OK…just as everyone told me it would. Although it certainly wasn’t easy, one thing I can say with certainty is that having our daughter was the best decision my husband and I ever made. She is our greatest achievement. She is beautiful. The career shuffle that followed that first day is the subject for another post.  Drifting away from all of my friends with no kids is yet another. So is the story of being on one side of the fence, as a working mom…then on the other, as a stay at home mom. It seems like there is always plenty of doubt and criticism to go around, as if anyone needs to make parenting any harder.

I speak of this first day as a defining Boomer memory because it reflected a major challenge for me and my peers: working vs. staying at home. What did I learn? I finally figured out that you can have it all, not just not all at once. This can be a difficult concept for a young person to grasp. It was for me. But it makes so much more sense as you get older! How about you? What did you learn from one of your hardest days?