While pregnant, I’d heard that for a brief few months after becoming a parent, I might be in denial that anything had changed. And I found that to be true. However, that little while stretched into 2+ years. I didn’t want to feel kicked to the curb — I wanted to be the femme fatale who was doing and having it all. I didn’t buy into that you can have it all, but not all at the same time. I was enjoying parenthood, but couldn’t shake the feeling that life was passing by in the fast lane and that I was stuck on the shoulder with a flat tire. I wanted to do everything personally and professionally that I had always done — regardless of how my circumstances had changed. The “Second Shift” that Arlie Hochschild had warned about in my college sociology class was fully in effect. My husband and I shared the tasks, but because of the type of parent I wanted to be and because of the circumstances of his work, it was far from the 50/50 balance I’d imagined. From the get go. Inevitably, for those who breastfeed, the shifting and rebalancing begins moments after a baby is born when s/he needs to be fed. A few weeks after my first was born, I asked my husband how he was feeling about parenthood. He said “I think I’ve hit my stride.” Yeah, me too. Just kidding — I felt like I’d been hit…by a semi.
As time passed, the imbalance felt like our blender was on high and the lid went missing (thank you, Jerry Seinfeld — brilliant). By design, years earlier, I had created my consultancy with flexibility and scalability. This kept the business agile, relevant and profitable. However, that was quickly reappropriated to pick ups and drop offs, daycare closures, and doctor appointments. I needed more hours in each day to keep my business going and to do the nursing/pumping/playing/snuggling/bathing/singing/reading that I wanted to do. After a relatively very short while that seemed much longer than it was, life did rebalance — more sleep, fewer diapers, more work/play/travel. Then our second arrived. Rewind/replay/repeat. However, this time, in the midst of re-experiencing the denial redux, I relocated across an ocean.
Before relocating, I’d agreed to being full-time primary caretaker for the duration of our time abroad (3 years — once in a lifetime — carpe diem). However, upon arrival, I couldn’t let go of the gainfully employed part of myself. And my husband was on company time, so it was up to me to make it work, create balance, or cut bait. As soon as the lights were out in my kids’ room, I would hop on conference calls with clients and freelancers, field emails, and stay up as long as it took to over-deliver on client expectations. As the kids grew older, lights out pushed later so the work shifted later, less sleep, more stress. I did the work itself during the day while the kids were at daycare/childcare, but the timezones and gaps in childcare started to be too much. My consultancy didn’t suffer and my kids were thriving, but I needed to pick a lane.
One day I landed myself in the ER — a self-inflicted simple and totally avoidable accident caused by piling things too high, too close, and too fast — and that was my wake up call. As I rode in the ambulance, “You’re going the wrong way!” (Planes, Trains & Automobiles) ran on repeat through my head. In that moment, I made an easy/hard choice…and continue to on a daily basis. Caveat: for now…
A friend took time off from her career to raise her three kids. When the youngest headed to preschool, she got a part-time admin job…that led to her reviewing the office’s website. Her input revealed her background in finance and technology. That company is now footing the bill for half of a master’s degree that will both bring her up to speed and add a new capability to their team. She wishes she’d known from the get-go that a decade after picking her lane, she would be able to switch. Not straight into the express lane or without a lot of work to get to where she wants to be, but that it’s achievable.
But maybe there’s something bigger to making that choice without knowing — deciding in the moment and being grateful that choosing (and not straddling) is an option. It’s my fear and ego being OK with the lane switch that I’m still straddling.
