I have a Bachelor Degree from Maryville University. It’s busy collecting dust, or being hugged by my daughter (totally made her do that).
It was the happiest moment of my life, at that time. I was so proud of myself. I had dreams of wearing a fancy suite-dress with stilettos and a briefcase and working at, well I didn’t know, I just wanted it to be someone important. It’s shallow and silly that I even had an image of how I wanted to look rather than where I wanted to work. I had dreams, big dreams.
With every job I applied for, a denial was offered. And as every denial came, a stab through my dignity it was.
When I found out I was pregnant, I was on top of the world that finding a job, just wasn’t appealing anymore.
I was going to be the best and most awesome stay-at-home mom there was. Images of my unborn child and I fluttered through my head.
Mariyah was born and there I was: important. Although, my wardrobe mainly consisted of yoga pants and milk stained shirts, nonetheless I was important.
Coincidentally, a few weeks after I gave birth, I received a Linked In message from an old networking friend with exciting news that there’s a job if I want it. I politely denied the offer. There was no way I can leave this precious child to go to work; she needs me. This is my job now and I will do it proudly. Motherhood is my job and I make my own rules.
… So I thought.
My days got longer and my patience got shorter. That feeling of importance disappeared. I no longer felt needed, just wanted.
Wanted me to hold her.
Wanted everything in my hands.
Wanted … testing my patience.
I desperately searched for a job. This time, not caring of my appearance; I just wanted to use my degree, and feel like I was contributing.
It wasn’t until a friend of mine knocked some sense into me that I realized how important the job I currently had as a STAHM was the only challenge I could handle at the moment.
“You’re a great mom, the best I know, and I know you, why are you stressing so much about this?” She then honestly adds, “Besides, you’re about to pop.”
That, right there, “You’re a great mom”, was all I needed to really hear. My husband tells me all the time, but I always dismissed it, thinking it was just what I wanted to hear.
Perhaps, I will work one day. I’ll be able to put my degree and the thousands of dollars I paid for it, in good use. But until then, I’ll be the best dang mom there is; stained shirt wearing, under eye bags looking and head held up high (mainly because i’m looking for curly headed child) there is.
There is and always will be the debate of whom has it harder, Working moms or Stay-at-home moms. I think they both have their struggles and disappointments, their ups and downs; never satisfied. In the end, whether you are a working mom or a SAHM, you are important.
The dreams I had fresh out of College were big, but my dreams (and future) today, are even bigger.