9 Months In, 9 Months Away!

For a mother, the 9-month journey is the most significant phase of her life when she bears a child inside her. Cruising through those seemingly long months, when she finally holds the little baby in her hands.

Even before realizing it, she dives straight into parenthood, and her world starts revolving around her offspring. Days, weeks, and years pass by; regardless of time, external forces, or numerous changes in circumstances, the child remains the center of her universe.

 

As parents with young growing children, it is hard to think about staying apart from them, even for a few days, let alone weeks or months. Yet, I made that choice — the choice to live apart from my baby and my family for 9 months.

 

“What sort of mother doesn’t want to be with her children? Do you even have a heart? How could you leave your little kid and live across the world? How are you such a selfish mother?” Thankfully, no one asked me these questions to my face, but I am sure I would find these sentiments if I could read minds. When I decided to take up a work assignment in London from Kathmandu without my family accompanying me, I knew I was doing the unthinkable.

 

Even my ultra-progressive mother had her qualms. Having been away during my childhood, she didn’t want her grandson to miss a mother in his parent-teacher meetings or when he won another sports medal. But she assured me of her support, just as she has done all her life — for which I am utterly grateful.

 

The work assignment was highly coveted and could potentially open doors professionally. Yet, when the offer was on the plate, I couldn’t say yes right away due to a mental battle with monumental apprehension. How could a mother choose to stay away from her 8-year-old child for her career? I was vilified, mostly by my own mind. It took a great deal of persuasion from my wonderful husband to make me understand that regret would be harder to overcome than the difficulty of being apart. He convinced me of his capabilities to handle our son, and, fortunately, we have a lovely extended family I fully trusted not to let my son be affected by my lengthy absence. With this comfort, I set off on a solo journey across the world, leaving behind a piece of my heart — my son.

 

Initially, comprehending my new life was hard. For the first time in 8 years, I was doing things for myself, and I admit I felt lost. Even my basic grocery list back home had items for my son's breakfast, school lunch, or dinner. Weekdays revolved around his school run, his food, his homework, and projects. Weekends were about chaperoning him to activities, playdates, attending friends' birthdays, or looking for food joints serving his favorite ramen. Parents of his friends became my new best friends. I had a bit of helicopter-mom syndrome, needing to be on top of everything going on with him, even when working full-time. I spoke to his nanny several times a day to ensure his routine was followed. This was in addition to a webcam I monitored from my office once he was back from school.

 

And now, here I was, in a new country alone — soaking in the mother-guilt. I did well at work but refused to immerse myself in the numerous tourist attractions of one of the most loved cities in the world or enjoy the big balcony of my fancy apartment overlooking the Thames River. "How can I have a good time without my family?" Once again, my superhero — my husband — came to the rescue, encouraging me to step out. Sitting thousands of miles away, he provided a list of touristy things to do over the weekends and enjoyed every bit of it through me. How truly blessed I am! We found ourselves in a newly discovered long-distance relationship after 11 years of marriage. There was a lot of recalibration, and eventually, we settled into a rhythm of video calls a few times during the day, despite the wide time zone difference. I also caught up with my son to narrate his day before he went to bed.

 

I realized that back home, when we talked, I was usually thinking about a hundred household things to take care of, often listening half-heartedly. I used to be with him 100% of the time, but I wasn’t fully present most of the time. Now, as a blessing in disguise, this doesn’t happen to me anymore. Both of us now have undivided attention while we speak through the screen. Sometimes, we even do revisions for his class tests over calls and prepare lessons for school. I was worried about his grades, as I had read that children often get adversely affected by a parent’s sudden absence, but to my relief, he continued to display flying colors on his report card throughout.

 

Contrary to my controlling personality (guilty as charged!), I handed over full command of my son to my husband and took the backseat, witnessing him beautifully navigate being a temporarily single dad. Despite the frequent urge, I resisted all temptations of instructing him on how to raise his son and provided advice only when solicited, which worked wonders for us. After all, how much harm can an occasional pizza treat or extended screen-time do?

 

Being away also revealed to me all the things I have taken for granted. It made me more aware, more grateful, and more present. I have accepted the fact that my child can grow into a well-rounded mature individual even without me hovering over him day in and day out. I have acknowledged that a father can be as invested and devoted as any mother and that it's never too late to accept fresh challenges professionally, provided you have the right ecosystem around you. These self-awakenings are small perks compared to the pain of being away from home, but I will always cherish them.

 

I was particularly thrilled when my son was able to spend his summer vacation with me, enjoying the UK to the fullest. In his own words, he became more of a “Londoner” than his mother. Seeing him navigate through the tube stations, malls, different cities, and striking conversations with strangers, it never felt like he was visiting this country for the first time. His trip highlight was sadly not meeting his mother but witnessing English Premier League football games at the stadiums. Ah well, no offense taken! As parents, we felt we could give ourselves kudos for making him a well-traveled, confident child at such an early age. A few brownie points to myself for taking up the assignment and making this long holiday possible for him in one of the most sought-after tourist destinations in the world.

 

Maternal guilt for me hasn’t been a new phenomenon. Belonging to a family where everyone, including the women, had successful careers, having a professional life was a given for me, regardless of becoming a mother. But reality was harder than anticipated. I was on the verge of giving up my rocketing career more than a few times when I felt I had to be with my child rather than typing away on the laptop in my posh office. Especially during my son’s early years when he would fall sick often, attending calls only to rush out of clients’ meetings, frequent official travels, own hormonal changes, and whatnot. Like most people, I also believed that stay-at-home mothers would make better parents simply because they are more available for the children. Outwardly, I wanted to appear a perfect, involved, working mother and a successful professional. Inside, I self-doubted myself about being a good enough mother. Despite wanting to take care of everything all the time, I could not be in two places at once, and that affected me for the longest time.

 

But I am so grateful for the support system around me, the company I worked for, and my family that encouraged me to continue working despite all my mental turmoil. Whatever the exact figures, the issue of women — rather than men — leaving the family unit for work still creates a lot of debate. Despite all discourses and progress on women empowerment, women are still expected to play the role of a nurturer, regardless of other external circumstances. There’s still an unshakeable stigma attached to women leaving their children behind to pursue their careers, often considered as abandoning their duties and responsibilities, owing to our history, cultural ideas, societal conditioning, and gendered relationships.

 

As for me, I have eventually made peace with myself as I now head towards the end of my 9-month stint and look forward to being reunited with my son, who turned 9 while I was away, making it the first time ever to have missed his birthday. However, thanks to technology, I was still able to wish for him when he opened his eyes in the morning. He cut the cake, which I had designed, and opened the gifts that his dad and I had carefully picked for him.

 

This “9 months away” period was truly congruent with the “9 months in'' phase that I spoke about at the beginning. I carried my baby through both phases, first in my womb and now in my mind and in my heart. Both were phases of struggle, turmoil, anxiety, and eventual joy. I couldn’t have navigated either without the support of my incredible husband, extended family, and friends who have always been my rock-solid support system.

 

Whether society will eventually become more accepting of mothers who live apart from their children remains a matter of debate. Meanwhile, I am convinced that we as working mothers need to consciously eliminate our maternal guilt and not let the emotion keep us from pursuing our career aspirations, as long as our children have the support they need. We need to set the right example for our children, who will eventually appreciate and emulate the value of being career-oriented and confident individuals, as their parents.