I Never Thought I’d Want to Be a Stay-at-Home Mum
In my twenties, I was ambitious. I studied hard, built a career I was proud of, climbed steadily, and felt like I was on the path I’d always aimed for. I liked being good at things. I liked structure. I liked the feeling of being useful and productive. I thought I’d be one of those women who had a baby, took leave, then slotted right back into work life.
I never expected that I’d want to stay home with my child.
But I did.
And I still do.
I Wasn’t Ready For It
No one tells you what it feels like to return to work when your whole world has changed – but everything around you expects you to act like it hasn’t. And don’t get me wrong both my boss, my colleagues, my company and my team have been super supportive. But it’s still hard!
I show up. I sit in meetings. I contribute.
But while I’m listening to updates and new deadlines, I’m also quietly thinking:
“Is my baby okay?”
“Did she eat anything today?”
“Has she napped yet?”
Why hasn’t the daycare app updated?
When the meeting ends, the first thing I check isn’t my inbox like I would have before becoming a mom, now it’s the app.
And if the answer is no sleep, barely ate, I carry that with me straight into the next meeting, where I try to nod along to project timelines while my mind is still back at daycare, wondering if she’s crying and if someone is able to offer her a little comfort.
Then someone asks a question and I realise I’ve said yes to something I barely heard. And I carry that too.
I’m Split And I am Tired
I thought I’d be able to balance work and parenting. I thought I’d find a rhythm. But honestly, even part-time feels like too much some weeks. Not because I don’t like my job. I do. But because I’m mentally somewhere else.
I don’t want to lose my career, but I don’t want to miss these moments, either.
And that’s the tension I sit in most days.
The Pressure Is Everywhere
There’s this unspoken pressure to do it all:
To raise emotionally well-adjusted kids.
To keep your career moving.
To show up, contribute, stay sharp.
To manage a household, keep it clean, keep it together.
To look… okay.
And mostly, I do.
I’m not crying in the car (well not always). I’m not falling apart.
But I’m not at peace, either.
I’m getting through. I’m ticking boxes. I’m remembering hats for daycare and replying to emails on time and squeezing in washing loads between meetings.
But I’m tired. Not just physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Deep-tired.
I Don’t Know the Answer, But I Know the Cost
I’d love to stay home with my child. I’d also love to keep something for myself, something that still feels like me, outside of nappies and nap schedules.
I worry that if I stay home too long, I’ll lose momentum.
I worry that if I work too much, I’ll miss things I can’t get back.
I worry that even saying this out loud sounds like I’m ungrateful when really, I’m just unsure.
I Want Better for Her
Maybe it’s too late for us, maybe we’ve internalised too much of this pressure to ever fully escape it.
But I want something better for my daughter.
I want her to know that it’s okay to choose a slower path.
That “success” doesn’t have to look like full-time work at full-speed with a side of family and zero sleep.
I want her to know she has choices, real ones. That staying at home can be enough. That chasing a career can be enough. That there’s no perfect formula.
Just whatever feels right, when it feels right.
And the freedom to change her mind.
For Now…
I’m figuring it out. One blurred workday, one drop-off, one daycare app notification at a time.
I’m trying to hold space for both versions of myself: the one who worked hard to get here, and the one who now just wants to slow down and sit on the floor with her baby.
And maybe, right now, the best I can do is keep asking the question:
What matters most to me today?
And make peace with the fact that the answer will probably keep changing.