Stay-at-home-feminist, part 4

This is the fourth in a series – click here for part 1.

Becoming a mother of an infant meant that a new depth of love was opened up to me.  My little baby came from me, is therefore a part of me, and so I have difficulty having her apart from me.  When she is apart from me, my thoughts never depart from her.  It is an unconscious constant.  This is what I mean by a new kind of love, where words are insufficient to describe.

It is a new kind of affection and a new kind of joy.  When do I not love spending time with her, watching her grow and getting to witness her amazement at seeing something she’s never seen before or doing something she’s never been capable of?  I confess that I absolutely adore my little baby!

At the same time, becoming a stay-at-home-mom meant the beginning of a new kind of tug-of-war.  I am beset with a constant nagging feeling that I should be doing something or getting something done, but when I actually work on something, I feel guilty that I’ve been ignoring my baby.  But if I devote the whole day to being by her side and nothing else, a hollow feeling of unproductivity sets in.

There must be a balance somewhere.


2 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by Candy on April 15, 2010 at 8:18 am

    Thanks for sharing! I totally resonate with the fact that when I am not productive, I don’t feel good about myself. Unfortunately for me, it was tied in with the fact that I defined myself by the work that I could do and realized that I would look down on people who were not as productive. I suck.

    There is so much that you are doing though. The way you love, care, give to your baby is anything but passive.


    • Thank you for your comment, Candy. Unfortunately, it is true that most of us define productivity with some kind of ‘tangible’ result. It’s ingrained in our culture. I think it would take daily reminders to ourselves that productivity is responding to God’s love, and this kind of ‘obedience’ might end up resulting in something tangible or intangible.


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