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Being a working mom is hands down the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Yes, harder than both unmedicated births. Harder than breastfeeding. I’d do both all over again time and time again if it meant I could be a stay at home mom.

Before you get up in arms- don’t. There’s always some smug Facebook commenter who loves to point out “stay at home moms work too.” Yes, I know. All moms are working moms. I’m not here to shame stay at home moms and claim they have it easier than me. Motherhood is not a competition of who has it the hardest. I firmly believe when we play that game we are just trying to feel validated in our hard work and sometimes our suffering.

Stay at home moms work. It’s hard, I know. Working moms are also full time moms, and it’s hard too. The challenges are different and that is ok.

When I say it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done I’m speaking from my experiences and can acknowledge that the experience of motherhood while working, or not is different for everyone.

But there is some kind of added pressure when you leave the home to work. And this isn’t for the stay at home mom. This isn’t for the working mom who loves her job and was excited to return from maternity leave, and feels relieved at the office. This is for the working mom who is tortured everyday with the guilt of being a working mom. Who would do almost anything to be able to be at home, but just can’t. Because money. This is for the mom crying, no sobbing, on her way to work. Pumping in a closet while watching videos of her baby and contemplating walking out of a classroom when your 5th attempt at your attention getter still isn’t working. This is for the mom who is struggling trying to balance it all out of necessity, not want. This is for the working mom that is so overwhelmed by to-dos from the second she wakes up to the second she closes her eyes that the little things like remembering to grab her lunch, and her keys/phone/wallet just slip through the cracks.

I hate to admit it, but I’m jealous. I’m jealous of the mom who can take her toddler to the zoo on a Tuesday afternoon. I’m jealous of the mom who gets to worry about cleaning the house with an open schedule as opposed to my jam packed 5 hours in the evening. I’m jealous of the mom who knows exactly what her kid ate that day, how much screen time he got, how many diaper changes and how many kisses he got.

Sometimes my jealousy makes me bitter, hateful and mean. It makes me scoff at other women’s stresses and makes me want to scream, “try doing what I do!!” Then it makes me feel guilty for thinking that because that’s my problem, not theirs and I remind myself that it’s not healthy to compare and everyone has their own struggles that I may not see.

Sometimes my jealousy makes me feel alone. My husband doesn’t understand the pressure on mothers. My co-workers say they couldn’t handle being at home all day. My mom friends feel sorry for me as I break down in tears telling them how sad I am to return to work. I often wonder where are my people? Where is the reluctant, struggling working mom?

I catch myself thinking it’s not fair. It’s not fair that this mom, or that mom gets to be a stay at home mom. I was made to be a mom. I’ve waited my whole life for this and now I miss 8 hours of it daily?! This is my passion. This is what makes me happy.

I feel guilty when I come home from work wallowing in my negativity and am exhausted and in a bad mood. I want to give my boys all of me. I want to do everything. Give them a good meal. A clean home with clean clothes. I want to read books and play games and sing songs and dance. I want to go on walks and to the park. I want to do a bed time routine. I want to snuggle.

But there are only 24 hours in a day.

And I need to cook, clean dishes and sterilize bottles. I need to have clean work clothes, and pack my lunch or eat subway again and I’m broke until Friday. I need to grade papers, and wash the sheets that have throw up and breastmilk stains. I need to wash my hair because I haven’t in three days and I need to go to the store because we’re out of milk. I need to call my doctors office before 5 and of course pay some bills.

So half of my to do list will go undone. Half of what I need to do will get sacrificed for what I want to do because I want to be good mother. I want to get the most out of our time together in these 5 short hours in my evening. I want to see my son so I let him stay up until 10:30. I want to enjoy my time with him so I let dishes pile up and order a pizza again because I’m already spending too much time cleaning the 10 bottles I use to pump and give him breastmilk. I’ll go to work with the same pants on that I wore on Monday and a messy bun made with dry shampoo.

In order to make the most of our evening I often times sacrifice myself, my house, my sanity to make myself feel like I’m getting the most of my boys that I can.

But you can’t have your cake and eat it too. I may be a present mom, but then I’m the dirty, messy, mom. When I am the most present mom I can be I am the employee who gets there almost late and leaves as early as possible, who needs pumping “breaks” and is always tired in meetings.

Then I feel run down and defeated. I feel like I am failing. I should eat better, drink more water, work out and have some me time. But me time takes time. Time that I don’t have. And money I don’t have. I can’t afford a shopping spree, a makeover or a yoga subscription. I don’t have time to cook a meal let alone a healthy one with fresh ingredients. I can’t stomach the thought of a 20 mins drive to work out for an hour because there goes 2 hours of my precious time with my boys that I’m not willing to sacrifice in order to lose 15 pounds.

Being a working mom doesn’t make me feel accomplished or successful. It just makes me feel stressed, depleted and sad. Being a working mom isn’t having it all. It’s having too much. It’s juggling too many balls and not knowing which one is least important to be dropped, but knowing without this job you wouldn’t have to chose.

The only thing that keeps me going is the promise to myself that something will change. It’ll change and in the meantime my kids will see hard work like no other. A sacrifice they will never understand because I know they need a home and food on the table and a quality of life that provides opportunities and experiences that will make them well rounded, better people.

I remind myself perfection means nothing. Who cares if I have messy house, unstylish wrinkly clothes, a messy bun and eat too much fast food? What difference does it make if I’m the best at my job or have 15 extra pounds? I have my most important job- motherhood, to get done and everything takes the backseat when it comes to that.

I pray to god that he will change something. I’m not afraid of hard work, but I want that work to be fruitful. I want it to be invested into my boys. Not spread thin across too many spaces. I pray for strength to get through each day without crying, being hateful or jealous. I remind myself nobody has it easy, but this season is just particularly hard for me. I pray that my boys stay safe because nobody cares about them the way I do. Nobody knows them the way I do. I can’t help but scream internally from the overwhelming fear that something will happen to them while I’m at work.

If you’re a mom like me, working to live and get by, not working for fulfillment and ambition just know that I see you. That you are not alone and that it’s ok to have the moments of anger and mini pity parties as we covet the lifestyle of the stay at home mom down the street. It’s ok to feel that, but it’s not ok to stay there.

Being down, depressed and defeated about a situation with no immediate solution is a waste of energy and time. I’m not one to easily change my negative to a positive in any situation, but thinking of my boys and husband having to hang out with a mom who is bitter and angry just makes me sad. I acknowledge how I feel but then move on from that because it just isn’t healthy to do. Which is why I work hard for a change praying that it comes sooner than later. I search for the opportunities hoping God will lead me there.

I started keeping a prayer journal a few years ago to help me become more intentional with prayer. One thing I didn’t expect was to be able to look back on all these documented answered prayers. A healthy baby when I was pregnant, a house when we lived in a garage apartment, another baby, and then a new job that pays more. So, I’m continuing to pray with the hope that God has a plan for this suffering. That he is using it to make me strong and teach me lesson that only he can. I am not sure of what it is, but I know there is a plan and a purpose. I know God has me where I am at for a reason, even if that reason is not always clear to me.

^“16 Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. ¹⁷ For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. ¹⁸ So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

2 Corinthians 4:16-18