I never knew guilt like this before.
Photo by Tovah Lazaroff
My five-month-old is smiling, giggling, and gaining weight nicely. He turns over, he makes funny sounds, he flirts unabashedly with anyone who catches his eye. He’s still breastfeeding but starting to get a taste of solids – like avocado, banana and pumpkin – according to the latest recommendations of the American Academy of Pediatrics.
And yet, when I walk out that door to go to work – which currently involves editing a magazine and teaching two college courses – I feel momentarily like the lowest form of female life on earth. I am doing exactly what I once found distasteful when I heard of it being done by other women. I waited this long to have a child, so badly wanting that quintessential female experience of being a mother, only to deposit him with another woman for the day while I go off and do something else? Read more…