It’s funny how life works. You wait for a moment to come, and then when it does, you’re hit with a tidal wave of emotions you didn’t even know you were holding inside.
That moment arrived for me this past week—my first time leaving my boys behind since giving birth in 2018.
It was only for one night, yet it felt like an eternity. I was heading off to a work-related event, and while I was looking forward to it in many ways, especially because it was also my first time aboard a plane, I wasn’t quite prepared for the flood of emotions that came with the thought of leaving them.
As I packed my bag, the reality of the situation began to hit me. It felt strange to be packing for myself—no snacks, no extra outfits for the kids, no toys or distractions to keep them entertained.
Just me, my work clothes, and a handful of things, one bag!
My mind immediately went to them. Would they be okay without me? Would they miss me as much as I knew I would miss them?
The flight was amazing, as a child I would watch the plane fly over my parents home and tell myself "one day I am going to be up there too"...so just that alone was a wow moment.
Then the mom brains kicked in, I want my boys to experience this, the way it feels when the plane lifts off, how it looks from on top, how the cars looks like little ants...this feelin somehow morphed into, I wonder what they are doing, are they okay...
Now every little thing that reminded me of my boys.
Upon landing, a driver was waiting, and let me tell you the quietness of that drive, even though I was talking, it was a stark contrast to the usual noise and chaos that come with having two young children.
The quiet felt foreign and almost too still.
As soon as I arrived and settled in, a group of fellow journos (they were all men) some are parents themselves, were taken to the event.
A little part of me wanted blurt out how much I looked forward to having a night's uninterrupted rest- while still missing my kids at the some time, but they would probably not understand.
It was a great experience, and I relished the chance to focus on something outside of motherhood for the first time in ages, while I had this constant pull on my heart- sounds mad I tell you.
The hardest part came when I spoke to my husband that evening and heard my boys in the background.
Big Brother’s little voice saying, “Mommy, where are you?” sent a wave of emotion over me.
I knew they were in great hands with their dad and grandparents, but still… it was the first time I wasn’t there for their bedtime, to say a little prayer with them, the first time I wasn’t there to kiss them goodnight.
I’d been so wrapped up in the excitement of the event that I hadn’t fully realised how deeply I’d feel the separation.
It’s such a strange thing, isn’t it? How you can crave time for yourself—time to focus on your work, your interests, to reconnect with the person you were before kids—but at the same time, you can feel so torn when it’s finally time to let go, even for just a short while.
The next morning, I woke up to a video call from my husband—both of my boys happy and smiling, baby ended up kissing the phone, the simple image made my heart feel whole again, so as I got ready to head home, I felt the excitement of reuniting with them building up inside.
The work event had been a success, but nothing could compare to the joy of holding my boys in my arms again.
Leaving them for the first time since 2018 was harder than I thought it would be. But in the end, it also reminded me of the balance I’m constantly striving to find. It’s okay to step away, to take time for myself and my career.
It’s okay to give myself permission to be more than just “mommy” sometimes. But it’s also okay to miss them with every fibre of my being. It’s part of being a mommy. And I wouldn’t change a thing.
Weekend Argus