Hannah’s a Honey, but Mom’s Back

For the past four months, I have been home with my family.

Our youngest member, Hannah, was born in September. She is healthy, moon-faced, soft and round.

She is beautiful.

Parents, of course, always say that. And it is always true. A baby’s beauty, as unformed as her future, reflects back what is good in ourselves: innocence, trust and need.

Babies allow us to hope.

It has been easy to appreciate all this while safe in the cocoon of my home and neighborhood with my husband, daughters and friends.

Away from the deadlines of this job, I often allowed my thoughts to swirl and curl back upon themselves instead of forcing them to march in logical, punctuated lines.

I slept little but dreamed a lot.

Hannah, on the other hand, was the one who demanded structure; she needed to be fed and I followed her cues. Mostly with a smile. Sometimes she turned my days upside down.

Or were those really nights?

I write this now because that time, already clouding to a warm blur, has come to an end. Beginning today, I return to writing this column three times a week.

I’m happy to be back in the pages of this newspaper because this is work that I love. I missed it, and I think it’s time to return.

I am sad, though, that I, like millions of others, must muddle on with this business of parenthood by choosing among options that are less than what we really want.

Most women, and a fair number of men, say that given a real choice, they would stay home to raise their child themselves. Nothing can substitute for a parent’s love.

But economics, and a lopsided struggle with grown-up self-esteem, dictate the terms of compromise. We tell ourselves that our child’s welfare is not some chit to be cashed in down the line. Yet the doubt lingers, and nags.

No, there is no such thing as “having it all”--as far as I can tell, some headline writers’ practical joke. That’s just not the way the real world works.

If we can say that it works at all.

And I, of course, have been more fortunate than most. So far, none of my choices have been bleak.

I enjoy, and need, my work away from home. I trust the woman who cares for my children while I cannot be there. They love her and she loves them right back.

Still, I start each day with my fingers crossed. Please, oh please, let the balance hold.

Friends of mine tell me the same. Baby-sitters don’t show up, a car pool runs out of gas, and on the job, a promotion goes to somebody else.

Precarious support systems wobble and collapse.

Even those parents who stay home with their children are not immune to tugs of doubt. They know that what they are doing cannot be more important; still, the message doesn’t seem to be getting out.

One friend left a career she loved to spend her days with her 2-year-old son. Now, she worries that she won’t have what it takes to pick up where she left off.

Her husband, who had told her he’d support whatever decision she might make, says he finds her lack of self-confidence hard to take. It seems they fight, she says, more and more.

As I did in the past, I hope to use this column to touch on these and many other issues close to our lives.

The subject range will be broad; the tone will depend on my mood. Some will be serious and in others, maybe I’ll try for a laugh.

Ideas will come from the news, from readers, from friends and, often, from out of thin air.

In any case, I’m taking a deep breath and counting to 10. Here goes . . .

It’s good to be back.