There was a time in my earlier parenting days when, in my naivete, I honestly believed mother's guilt was something only working mums suffered from. Having returned to working part time when my son was very almost three and my daughter just over a year old, I quickly became familiar with this issue.
It attacked on so many levels. There was the guilt at not being there to pick up my son at the end of his morning at kindergarten, even though very few children at his kindergarten are picked up by a parent. His kindergarten has a large catchment area, and most children go home by school bus. Most of the rest are picked up by the family helpers. But as I was to learn, the guilt of a working mother rarely listens to reason.
There was the guilt that came at leaving my daughter when she was so young - around 14 months - when I would have never dreamed of leaving my son at the same age, the guilt that came with the realisation that she was having less time at home with me, and the guilt that an accident might happen - a broken bone, a head cracked open - simply because I wasn't at home.
But my children have always been reasonably tolerant of my working. The guilt was mine alone. For my children it seemed quite natural and normal for mothers to work. A large number of Hong Kong mothers work; most of my son's and daughter's friends' mums work. A lot of the time, the play dates they go on involve all children and helpers, anyway, so there isn't always reason to miss Mum quite so much.
Yet all that guilt was counteracted by the simple fact that not working was no longer a luxury I enjoyed. My husband and I had made the decision quite early on to send our children to what we considered to be the best primary school in the area, which meant sending our children to the best kindergarten in the area to be eligible for an interview at that primary school. As an international primary school, both it and its kindergarten charge the high fees that are the norm for middle-class Hong Kong families. Work is a necessity. There is no getting around that and so no getting around the guilt.
But there is also the guilt that attacks on the days when I realise that I have enjoyed being out of the house - days that I have enjoyed conversing with adults only and days that I have just enjoyed a social, child-free lunch.
If a child is sick and I don't stay home from work, I feel guilty and call my helper every half an hour as she reads their temperature into the phone. But if I stay at home with a sick child, there is the guilt I feel at missing a morning's work. I'm talking about children sick with a low- or medium-grade fever, a cough or cold. Anything worse and there is no guilt at being with them.