Logically, I knew I couldn’t have foreseen or stopped the seizures.
Emotionally, the thought of being absent in his moment of crisis was devastating. I obsessed over the question: “Am I prioritising work over my child’s well-being?”
Before this incident, I’d thought I could have it all – juggling a high-flying career with client presentations while pumping milk on the go in airports and conference rooms. But this experience left me questioning if I was truly getting it right.
GUILT AS A STAY-AT-HOME MOTHER
Some years later, corporate restructuring left me in a role that wasn’t the right fit. I decided to quit, seeing it as an opportunity to make up for lost time with my son.
At first, he was thrilled. I was there to welcome him home with a big hug every day.
But it didn’t take long for my involvement to feel suffocating – for both of us. I was constantly checking his assignment book, insisting he use a ruler for straight lines and reminding him to write out his mathematics workings clearly on the right side.
He started making small but earnest comments, often during bedtime routines at night.
“Maybe you could be less strict about my handwriting.”
“Maybe I could have a few vegetable-free lunches.”
“Maybe I could have more TV time.”
His honesty stung a little, but it also made me realise that I’d been trying so hard to compensate for my previous guilt around not being physically present enough that I was unintentionally smothering his freedom.
I decided to focus less on my urges to “make up” for past shortcomings and more on creating positive memories with him now.
