The women’s majlis: The trials of being a back-to-work-mum

Two days left. In less than 48 hours, I return to full-time work. In less than 48 hours, I’ll be leaving my 3-month-old son in the care of his nanny – my helper, but also a stranger. My son Adam was born on September 15. My maternity leave ended on ­November 13, but to me, that was too soon to leave him. At his young age, he was in desperate need of unconditional and constant love. As much as it ached to get up for a feed, a cuddle or a nappy change, I pushed myself, because I knew the clock was ticking.

Thirty days left. I was taking my older son to school. This brought about another challenge: where was I to leave Adam? I had to take him with me.

Fourteen days left. I chose to exclusively breastfeed. Both science and religion encourage breastfeeding for two years, and although I couldn’t even imagine how I could continue breastfeeding while working, I was determined. It was difficult to ensure that I ate, slept and drank well, to encourage the healthy flow of milk. I wouldn’t feel thirsty or hungry, but I needed to take care of myself, for Adam. I also needed to take care of myself emotionally, as I noticed that he felt any feelings that were affecting me.

It’s not my employer’s fault that I’m working. I chose to work to ensure a home, good schooling and a comfortable life for my family. But the anxiety of planning and waiting in anticipation of how your day will go is tough. It needs to be planned well. When do I express? Where? What time? Where do I store the milk? Who will deliver the milk? Should I leave? But this report is due.

Zero days left. I’m back at work, and although many probably have coped much better than me, I’m sure many understand that I felt cooped up and at times, hopeless. I keep imagining my child crying out for me, but I’m not there. As the American poet Robert Frost puts it, we each have an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired. I missed Adam as much as I’m sure he missed me.

Safety cameras, check; microphones, check. The small window on my phone allows me to see what his day is like, in another woman’s arms. And while I am grateful for the blessings I have, I can’t bear not to interact with him for the bulk of the day. I read that a child’s first teachers are his ­parents.

I’m going to lose out on that special bonding that breastfeeding brings. Why do we only offer 45 to 60 days’ maternity leave when it is obviously not enough?

Back-to-work mum earns the dirhams that pay for the house and daily necessities. I can only try my best, and hope and pray that the mothers after me will have better opportunities.

• Khawla Saleh is employed full-time and a mother-of-two. She's currently in the final year of a doctorate in child public health.

If you have a good story to tell or an interesting issue to debate, contact Shireena Al Nowais on [e-mail].