Chat with Me~ Memoirs of a New Working Mom

We all choose our line of work for different needs, reasons and motivations. Below is my story and how I journeyed through adjusting to motherhood as a working professional. Grab some coffee, tea, kombucha or comfy treat and join me for a little coffee chat :)



Let's rewind to Winter (January) 2016. I'm pregnant and just a few months away from my due date.
My plan:
Work until I go into labor,
return after 8 weeks,
build my way up the leadership chain,
Chaya (baby) will be in day care- she gets to be socialized,
Zach (husband) gets time and space to do his entrepreneur thing.

All would be great. We'll work ourselves out of debt. Life is good. We'll move out of our little one bedroom apt when Chaya turns 6 mos old. Great plan. Strategy in motion. Ready, set, go.

2 weeks before due date: 
Feeling strong but...
Mentally feeling a shift begin.

The atmosphere in our home was changing. A preparation was being made in our hearts as parents and our home was also starting to look different. Car seat arrived, baby sleeping equipment, home birth supplies arrived- things were getting real. Something in me knew I was being pulled in to a different realm of life. Weeks before, my midwife encouraged me to reconsider working so close until my due date. My thought was that I was healthy and felt fine and I needed the extra $$ so I had no real excuse to not work.

But the decision this early on was setting up a value system in me that would lay a foundation and be a precedent to how I make my decisions in life moving forward. This decision weighed not just my financial wellbeing but my mental health and spiritual/emotional wellbeing. Some things just didn't feel well-aligned and I knew the very day this feeling settled in that it was time to turn in my projects at work and officially give myself the opportunity to fully transition into motherhood- mentally, physically and spiritually.

The last day before my maternity leave, I went in to sign my leave papers. And it was that very night that I entered into labor. Talk about timing! It was as if my body was waiting for my mind to catch up. Although coordinating my leave was challenging because it was not financially covered outside of my saved vacation and sick leave (I worked for a small non-profit), God provided for us in amazing ways. As I layed in bed that night, feeling as though I had tied all my loose ends at work, I patted my belly and said: "Okay, you can come now." I closed my eyes only to be woken up 20-30 minutes later with a startling shock and wave of pressure and pain that reverberated through my whole body. I'll have to share more of my birth story sometime in another post, but 24 hours later, my precious Chaya was here and my whole world changed.

The Arrival:

Those 8 weeks went by like a flash and I remember being so dumbfounded with myself for thinking that returning to work after 8 weeks was a reasonable plan. There was no way that I was ready. And yet, there is no way one can really prepare or know how much of a life-changing shift our hearts and minds go through after becoming a parent.

I talked with my job and negotiated a later return date. Again, here I was making a decision between my mental health and my financial wellbeing. It was hard. I have car payments, grad student loans, personal debt, etc. I decided I could only afford 3-4 more weeks to buy me more time with my daughter, to heal, to establish getting Chaya to take a bottle, etc. before going back. But how does one really put a price and timeline on our mental health? And postpartum recovery? Most mamas can probably agree that 3-4 more weeks is still not enough time when our babies are still so young. Neither is 4 months. 6 mos. A year? Maybe we're getting closer. Depending on the woman. And to think many women return to work after only 6 weeks. It's unreal!

The lack of priority and consideration that our American working society and culture puts on women as child bearers is a somber reality.

 
The Return:

It's now late spring 2016 and I was fortunate to have considerate accommodations upon returning to work. A conference room designated for pumping and happy coworkers who were excited to welcome me back. I couldn't complain too much. A week later it was announced that our organization would be applying for a nearly million dollar grant. This meant late nights and little sleep in the non-profit world. Consider ourselves slammed. I was already managing another quarter-million dollar grant and I remember sitting at my desk just melting into my chair. Melting. And leaking. It was time to pump again. I had just started figuring out what to begin chipping away at on my to-do list- but nope! It must wait. My boobs were saying otherwise. I dash off to the conference room and set up my pump station. As I pumped away I scrolled through pictures of my Chaya (it's supposed to help with your letdown and milk production). Emotions began settling in- ...wondering how she's doing. She was too little to notice I was gone or miss me. But also still refusing the bottle so I was anxious about her feedings. After breastfeeding on demand, it was so hard to be away...

Okay. Boobs were empty. Shut off emotional thoughts, wipe eyes, return to desk. Switch back to work mode. But keep an eye on the clock for next pump break. And make sure to eat a nutrient dense snack, pop some fenugreek, drink lots of water. Gotta keep that milk supply up. Check and feel boobs periodically- but discreetly. I was pumping and breastfeeding 60+ ounces of milk- easily. That is almost 8, 8oz glasses. So my boobs filled up quickly. I was a machine. Always calculating. And because Chaya was not taking the bottle, I was able to negotiate going home to feed her on lunch breaks and in-between community meetings.

My job role was heavily involved in the community so there was a lot of community organizing, focus groups, strategic planning and outreach in the evenings too. I needed some way to get home to breastfeed Chaya in-between all of this. Chaya was so strong-willed that she would go up to 8 hrs during the day refusing the bottle until I got home. This created so many challenges. I was constantly keeping track of my milk and boob fill-age and before going home I would have to pump just enough to keep my milk supply up but not too much so that there would still be enough left in my boobs for her when I came home to feed her. This took a good percentage of brain/thinking/emotional capacity- cue mom brain.

The Reversal and the Downward Spiral

Like a lot of working moms may notice, babies will usually just switch their circadian rhythm when this reversal of feeds happens. The baby will begin sleeping more during the day and make up for lack of day feedings at night. This is what happened to us. I was a zombie. Pumping around the clock, operating at a highly strategic level at my job writing this mega grant (which we were awarded months later, by the way!) and managing another. I was still driving all over town in rush hour traffic to make it to community meetings. Hoping there would be a place for me to pump. Or else it was my car. I even pumped while driving at times because there would be no time for a pumping break.

We hired a part-time nanny who was amazing, but gee, we could never give her a consistent schedule with my husband being an entrepreneur starting up a few projects and with me and my sporadic non-profit community schedule. There was one day where I left the office in a rush for a meeting and knew I wouldn't have enough time to do my usual lunch time feeding. I phoned our nanny to let her know I would be picking both her and baby up and taking them across town to my meeting with me so I could feed Chaya in the car quickly before the meeting started. Note: it was in the heat of the summer too. My meeting was actually very exciting- discussing with a high school in the community the feasibility of implementing a farmers' market that accepted EBT (food stamps) at the school's community garden. Yet, my passion was being pulled in too many directions. I needed to feed my baby and I needed to be on time to this meeting that I was facilitating. This type of tug-of-war of emotions and decision making happened all too often.

I was a chicken running around with what felt like my head cut off. Having anxiety and panic attacks on the way to work, meetings and at night. Not knowing if I would get a good enough sleep. The sleep needed to operate at my level of job responsibility which was highly strategic developing action plans, grant administration, etc.

 Days went by. Weeks went by. Many late nights staying up writing away at this mega grant after already working a full day. Many emotional breakdowns. Until one when night I lost it. My husband was staying up with me for moral support and I just broke down. My chest was heavy, my throat closed up, things started to get black, my heart pounded, breathing became labored and harder. Tears poured down my face and words were coming out saying, "I can't do this. I can't do this anymore." I was having a full blown panic attack. I'm not sure how much time went by but I wiped my eyes, reopened my laptop and kept writing . Who was I kidding? I wrote it off as a temper tantrum and stayed up until 5am finishing some more writing.

Another few weeks went by and my work performance was starting to take a toll. This is straight-A, honor roll, valedictorian, 4.0, perfectionist Mary here was struggling with her work performance. I was turning up late to meetings, forgetful, and just lacking overall passion and drive. No time to exercise. Barely any time to eat and eat well. I was not myself. I was angry, stressed out, easily upset, anxiety to the max, snappish at home with my family and husband and just overall just unhappy and not fun to be around.

I remember telling my supervisor that my level of performance and abilities in this stage of my life was down to a 60-70%. I could tangibly feel that decrease in my work performance. I was slower at getting things done too. And I needed her to know that that was all she could expect from me. She was such an advocate and we had a great open communication type of relationship. She encouraged me to do what I could and that it was okay to accept and acknowledge that I was doing what I could with what I had to give. I felt like a failure after that meeting but at least our expectations with one another were on the same page.

It's Fall 2016 and Chaya was getting older- 6 mos old now. And having full on tantrums noticing that I was leaving for work (object permanence). She would scream for me as I close the door and walk down the stairs to my car. She's crying- and I was crying too. I wiped away the tears as I entered the office, late again (another feeding gone too long), arms struggling to juggle my purse, breast pump, lunch bag, and work binders (we're still writing this grant). I needed a suitcase! Because of last minute changes with child care there were other times when I actually had to tote Chaya with me to these meetings - our executive director present and all eyes on me. I reflected on all these moments and realized that I really couldn't do this anymore. This wasn't a childish temper tantrum. The tight throat, heavy chest, shortness of breath, heart palpitations and blurry vision started creeping up again. This was real life. I was reprimanded for being late and went back to my desk still in mid panic/anxiety attack. The world around me just kept spinning and spinning. I called my husband amidst my overwhelm and he gave me full permission to do what I felt would be best for me- even if it meant quitting. But I didn't want to quit on those terms.

In her book, Maxed Out: American Moms on the Brink, Katrina Alcorn mentions that "motherhood is now the single biggest risk factor for poverty in old age."
She also goes on with some statistics about working parents and calls this a public health crisis:

• 80% catch up on work nights and weekends
• 81% worry they will burn out
• 88% said they suffer from at least one stress-related health problem since becoming a working parent
• 59% have problems with anxiety
• 43% struggle with depression

After my last panic attack, I told my supervisor that I was not in a good place to operate in my job and needed to take a leave of absence. Again, it would be unpaid. I had no vacation or sick leave since it was all exhausted on my maternity leave. The theme continues: mental health vs financial well-being/ stability. I took a week off to reflect and come up with a game plan, recover, rest and just give myself a break. I wrote down some thoughts that I would present back to my supervisor that should improve my circumstances. Some were organizational, some included setting boundaries on community meetings, delegating my workload, onboarding interns, etc. But there was one standing item that no planning or level of organization would solve: Flexible Scheduling.

In all of this, not only was I learning what I needed as a working mom (how do you make up for the energy lost after 6 back-to-back sleepless nights?), but I was learning what I needed as a creative, as a deep strategist and content creator. I was learning that I was not fitting the mold of the 9-5 work culture. I knew this about myself, but something about becoming a mom brought this to the surface and it all came crashing and colliding at once. How many of us grew up with single parents who had no choice and currently face much subconscious post traumatic stress and stress-related conditions over their sacrifice to work and override their mental health and wellbeing in order to financially provide for their families?

I was continually faced with the decision to battle and advocate for a flexible schedule. It was a constant tug of war conversation. I had beautifully drafted a well-thought out proposal, but many of my requests were edited out. While more and more employers are offering flexible work schedules, it is still quite countercultural in our American work culture. Ultimately, I had to sacrifice a great deal of my salary and exempt status to become a part time hourly employee in exchange for my flexible schedule. It was a win in many ways, but still extremely difficult and felt like a loss in other ways.

It is now late Fall, 2016. Chaya is still home with Zach (no more nanny), drinking the bottle a little more now but still not sleeping through the night due to some of the habits developed earlier on in my return to work. I was still extremely tired and sleep- deprived to a state of nearly neurotic insanity it felt like. Just barely making it. I was still having anxiety and panic attacks. And still at a cross roads about my job and overall wellbeing. There were a lot of internal/organizational challenges going on in my workplace. Even though I had reduced myself to part time, I was still so stressed out and unhappy. Even on weekend trips to beautiful places like Tahoe with friends and family, I was miserable and couldn't get a grip on this working mama gig. Something was just not right.

It was time to pursue an exit strategy.

The Exit Strategy

Eventually I knew that I needed to decide for the long-term sanctity of my health, my family and relationships what I was going to do about all of this. If you've ever read the 4-hour Work Week book, it encourages us to consider to what extent we would go to experience peace, happiness and time freedom in life. Because when we look back, they always say that we'll never be proud of how much life we spent working, but how much life we enjoyed living. So we decide what we're willing to sacrifice. For some it's a nice car, a bigger house, starbucks, etc. Maybe selling our cars altogether and taking public transportation. For my husband and I, we're still nice and cozy in our one bedroom apt and Chaya is now 19months old. We're taking a little longer to get out of debt. But I've never been happier. We prayed as a family and a community for provision and creative opportunities. We have been so blessed to pursue multiple streams of income, job interviews, and more. Taking this risk to be self-employed is not for the faint of heart though. I officially decided to exit my career-track job and became a self-employed, work-from-home mama early January 2017.

At my last community meeting with the non-profit as I said my goodbyes the lieutenant, who was a dear community partner of ours, came up to me and said, "You won't regret it. You will not regret it at all."

And oh, how he was so right.

Just a week after resigning from my job-all on good terms after many months of riding things out- we got notice for Chaya's first Old Navy booking. The timing! My new job doing contract work as a health coach consultant also needed me sooner than anticipated. It was amazing how things started falling in to place. It was not by no effort. I was working my butt off pursing job opportunities that aligned with my values and mental health and skill-set, staying up late updating my resume, cover letter and pursuing certifications that would help me be more marketable as a prospective applicant. I worked hard to get our daughter the best positioning and set-up for her modeling. Some things we cannot change right away. But with staying true to my exit strategy, advocating for myself, intentional and specific prayer, patience (not leaving my job on bad terms), I experienced such blessing and God's provision. Some moms may consider going back to school to improve their job options and some moms may consider downsizing their lifestyle in order to be able to afford being home more. I truly believe that God believes in and loves when we prioritize our health and family as good stewards of what he has given us in a season.

My health, and the walls of my family were crumbling and so I set my mind to figure out what I could do and at what cost or sacrifice. We still are living very humbly in our small space, I don't shop for clothes often (see minimalism post part 1 and part 2). But what a transformation I've gone through from this time last year until now. Not every working mom has the same story, but my hope is that we can share our struggles with one another and acknowledge and give ourselves permission to say we're not okay when we're not okay. And to work together, one-by-one, to change the work culture so that the decision between being a good mom, wife, etc. while also being a good employee, staff, boss, entrepreneur becomes easier. That we don't have to choose one over the other.

There is so much I am still learning- as always.

Every mom has her own unique giftings, talents, strengths and desires. Not all want to be at home and not all want to be out of the home. The most important thing is to stay true to and in touch with our value systems. Making sure we advocate for ourselves and our value as mothers and contributors to this world.