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I never wanted to be viewed as being less capable or less dedicated to my work just because I was a mother. Slowly, I’m learning there’s a balance.
At a black-tie event in October, the room was filled with hundreds of people in glamorous clothes holding fancy cocktails. Amid all of the people, I couldn’t help but notice the one woman in the room holding something entirely different: her toddler. As soon as I saw her, I had to talk to her and find out how she ended up in this situation.
Turns out, her babysitter fell through at the last minute and she had no alternative care options. And then she did something I’m not sure I would have had the guts to do: She brought her daughter along for the evening. I was actually in awe of her bravery and felt slightly jealous of her courage to basically say to the hundreds of people in that room, “Hey, I want to be here, too. I have a daughter and no child care, and I’m not going to sit home tonight because of it!”
Bringing her daughter did something profound — it put motherhood front and center when most of us work tirelessly to hide the difficulties of motherhood from the outside world. We take our kids to day care early so we can get to work on time. We find emergency care when our kids are sick so we don’t miss an important meeting at work. We lose the weight and “bounce back” so you don’t even realize we’ve had children. We keep photos of our family off of our desks, to avoid suggesting we can’t handle a promotion at work.
But there we were, for an evening at least, reminded that motherhood can bleed into our lives in a way that might be inconvenient. It was beautiful and brave and reminded me to be more open about the responsibilities on my plate as a mother who is also managing a career.
Baby steps to balancing family, career
Two weeks later, I was asked to take a conference call at 3:30 p.m. on Halloween. Any mother of young children knows one thing — if you can swing it, 3 p.m. or later on Halloween is off limits. It’s a time for costume parades and evening preparations. Fueled by my newfound confidence to be more honest with others about what motherhood really entails, I told my client I couldn’t do that time — I had a Halloween parade to attend!
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It felt absurd to type in the response email. I could have easily made up an excuse that would be more professional. I could have lied about another client call and it would have come and gone without any notice. But I didn’t want to lie. I wanted my client to know that my children matter, too, and that time had been set aside just for them. It felt oddly empowering to send that email. And to my delightful surprise, it was no trouble to simply schedule our call for the next day.
I realize this sounds small. Baby steps, my friends. Baby steps.
My unwillingness to even hint that my family could affect my career was something I had worn like a badge of honor through the years. Having no maternity leave at a former job, I was still at work waddling around eight days after my due date to save vacation days for after the baby was born, and to also convey my commitment to the job.
After my daughter was born in 2014, I went back to work part time 2 1/2 weeks later and raved about how glad I was to be back. With another pregnancy, I went to work three days after having a miscarriage — can’t have the team thinking I was too emotional or not focused.
Baby in diaper stock image. (Photo: Image_Source_, Getty Images/Cultura RF)
My managers and co-workers responded differently to each of these instances. Some were amazed by and appreciative of my commitment to the job, while others really couldn’t seem to care less. I interpreted both reactions to mean I had made the right choices. When I received praise, I felt like a star. When I was ignored, I told myself that any efforts to take more time for myself would have backfired.
Work, parenting and pulling it all off
Work has always defined a significant part of my identity and purpose, making these professional decisions surrounding my pregnancies seem like the obvious and only choice. But I also made these decisions because I never wanted it to seem like my growing family would take away from my ability to do my job. I had read enough of the headlines and research to know that I didn’t want to mess with the possibility that my newfound status as a mother would hinder my ability to be the career woman I always wanted to become.
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Research suggests that mothers face “maternal wall bias,” keeping mothers and pregnant women from being viewed as having the same work ethic and capabilities as their childless female counterparts. And a 2014 analysis found that for each child a woman has, she makes 4% less. By contrast, when men become fathers they make 6% more.
I didn’t know whether the research was all true or would come to fruition in my life, but I wasn’t willing to risk it. Instead, I did what so many of us who are moms do at work each and every day: Pretend the balancing act was easy. Nothing to see here! We’ve got this!
