He is bald, chubby and, at times, quite demanding.

I am madly in love with him.

After a 15-year career as a newspaper reporter, I recently decided to turn in my press pass to stay home with my baby, a boy born last summer. Motherhood may be my toughest assignment yet.

It wasn’t an easy decision. When I waddled out of the Toronto Sun newsroom last June – just three weeks shy of my due date – I told my colleagues I would see them in a year. And I meant it. My unborn child was already on a waiting list for day care and I was still ambitious, hungry to tell the stories of this city.

Then along came Oliver who changed everything.

I was 36 and newly married when I became pregnant with my boy and I felt ready to be a mom. I was unprepared for Oliver to completely sweep me off my feet.

I spent hours watching my boy sleep in my arms, happily cataloguing his features from his wee toes to his wrinkled brow. I woke up hourly without complaint some nights to nurse him and rock him back to sleep. I changed hundreds of messy diapers, only able to laugh as Oliver, ever the typical boy, soaked the change table, the wall, even the floor. I delighted in each new feat as my boy -- the spitting image of his father -- learned to hold up his head, roll onto his belly, smile, giggle and sleep through the night.

It hasn’t all been a fairy tale. There are afternoons when I watch the clock, waiting for the hour when I can put my fussy or busy boy down for his nap. There are mornings when I wonder if my journalism degree is being put to best use as I make up words to children’s songs because I can’t remember the original lyrics. Some days my only adult conversation is with the woman who takes my drink order at Starbucks. Some days I am bored. Some days I am lonely.

Despite this, as the weeks raced by, my desire to return to work cooled. News broke around the city – a massive propane explosion, the shooting death of an innocent bystander outside a local tavern, a blackout during a winter cold snap. Yet I was content to huddle inside with my boy, leaving these stories for other reporters to cover.

I could no longer imagine leaving my boy, even with the kindest of strangers. When my newsroom was painfully downsized just before Christmas, I volunteered to take a package and I walked away.

There are nights I wake up in a panic, wondering if I made the right decision. Will I grow restless and resentful? Will I lose my independence? My life up until now has revolved around media scrums, crime scenes, city council reports and courtrooms. Moms’ groups, music programs and milestones are all frightening and uncharted territory.

Then the morning comes and I find my boy awake in his crib, his face lit up with a smile. Every morning I am reminded of how fortunate I am to be able to stay home with my son to see him grow up. Every morning I know I made the right decision.

Motherhood may be my toughest assignment, but it’s also the most rewarding.

-- Sarah Green

   sarahg@babyontheway.ca