Weighing In on Having It All

In the last few weeks, the discussion about whether or not it is possible for women to “have it all” has resurfaced, with a vengeance. I read this article in the Atlantic two weeks ago and thought it was really brave of Anne-Marie Slaughter to speak so candidly about how she felt stuck between a rock and a hard place when it came to balancing her intense Washington job and her two teenage boys. I appreciated the fact that she brought up and argued against some of the points Sheryl Sandberg made in her TED seminar, addressing the unfortunate fact that women are often made to feel like they are to blame when they are unable to do everything. 

Last week, the news came out that Marissa Mayer, formerly of Google, will be taking over as the CEO of Yahoo – effective immediately – and that she is six months pregnant with her first child. The announcement has led to much conversation about what kind of precedent Mayer will set as a high-profile mother and executive. She has already explained that she does not plan on allowing maternity leave to take her out of the game for too long, and that even when she’s out, she'll still have one foot in the door. 

I don't know Marissa Mayer. I imagine she is an incredibly intelligent, resourceful and talented woman to have made it as far as she has. However, I also think that the strangest thing about pregnancy is how we are so intensely anticipating something that we cannot even begin to fathom. The changes that occur immediately after giving birth cannot be understood until they are felt. The thing about Mayer’s comments that worry me are that they are spoken without any acknowledgment of the hormonal shift that happens at this time. How Mayer will deal with this influx of emotions is entirely unknown, even to Mayer herself. However, even with this uncertainty, Mayer feels confident talking about how available she will be in the weeks after her son is born. Whether or not she is able to maintain the connection to her work that she's proclaimed she will is yet to be seen. But, by making these comments so publicly she has already sent a message, not only to other women but, possibly more importantly, to the men we work with, that maternity leave need not be a full break from the workplace. 

Many women would counter this point by arguing that maternity leave absolutely needs to be a full break from the workplace. They would go on to say that someone like Marissa Mayer can afford to hire nurses and nannies and housekeepers and that it is preposterous to hold other women to the same standards as someone who has that kind of flexibility. These statements are fair and accurate, and I understand why women feel frustrated by the fact that they are being asked to live up to unattainable expectations set by women at the very top of their fields. But I must also point out in light of the Atlantic discussion that that this model does not necessarily constitute having it all. We need to be very clear about how we define this particular expression. I think for most of us, the term suggests that it is possible to not only have children, but to give them the time and attention they need while also getting our jobs done efficiently. If this were not the case than Ms. Slaughter would not have found herself in such a difficult position. But after years of having her husband bear the brunt of the workload at home, she realized that she did not have it all - she mostly only had work. Similarly, Ms. Mayer's statements regarding her leave and her plans to work throughout it lead me to believe that the people who are looking to her to prove that it is possible to "have it all" should start looking elsewhere.

Ms. Mayer states that the board members at Yahoo "showed their evolved thinking" by hiring a pregnant woman. My feelings on this are bound to be unpopular. I know that women have been fighting long and hard to create these exact opportunities.  I think women are absolutely as capable as men and should be allowed to prove themselves in any field they wish to be a part of. But, I don’t necessarily think it was forward-thinking or advisable to hire a woman who is pregnant with her first child to do this particular job.
 
It is no secret that Yahoo is struggling. They need someone at the helm who is going to be able to give them all of her attention. I'm not saying that Mayer won't be able to figure it out. It is very possible she will, particularly because she can afford to have a lot of help. And I am glad that we live in a world where people can appreciate a woman's talent and realize that she is the person they want leading them. But, as I stated earlier, there is no way to know what kind of reaction Ms. Mayer, or any woman, is going to have to motherhood. Clearly, she believes she will be able to bounce back quickly and that staying connected to her job won't be too difficult. It is possible that she knows herself well enough to be able to predict this, but it is also quite possible that she does not. This kind of unknown paired with the intense needs of a company like Yahoo, isn't an ideal combination. It doesn't leave Ms. Mayer with much room to have any kind of experience other than a very smooth one, which is not necessarily realistic.  

Somewhere along the way the words "hormones" and "emotional" became synonymous with "weakness" when it came to women in the workforce. Women had to prove that they weren't going to fall apart in a meeting just because they were menstruating. In overcoming this stigma, we now find ourselves at the other extreme. We've worked so hard to show that we can control our hormones that we are afraid to admit that something major happens to a woman when she has a baby. When I read Mayer's plan for maternity leave, it sounded to me like a woman who is desperately trying to prove that she won't be weakened by the act of having a baby, that it will be just another hurdle she is sure to overcome. 

I worry that we live in a world where we are afraid to acknowledge what a big deal it is to become a mother. Women should absolutely be afforded the same opportunities as men, but we also need to be honest about when choices are necessary. I know for certain that I could not be a CEO of a major corporation and also be the kind of mother I want to be. I don't think that means that I am being slighted or punished for being a woman. It just means that there aren't enough hours in the day to make it possible for me to do both of those things. 

Marissa Mayer already knows that her job is incredibly important to her. She doesn't yet know how her feelings will play into her role of being a mother. Only once she discovers that can she truly plan how she wants to split her time. Whatever she chooses, I hope she feels satisfied. Ultimately it is finding satisfaction in whatever balance we are able to achieve that I think is the goal. As Ms. Slaughter discovered, sometimes we need to reevaluate our own satisfaction and make some different choices.

I Thought It Was Supposed to Get Easier

So here I am, almost 11 months into motherhood, and I'm thinking I've pretty much got the hang of it. We have our routine down, we (usually) manage to get out of the house on time in the morning and in bed on time in the evening. We keep to a pretty solid schedule, but I'm not opposed to messing with it a bit for the sake of getting out and socializing. Matty's eating like a champ and crawling all over. He's deep into his exploratory phase, putting his hands on anything in his reach and his mouth on anything that's not nailed down.  He's growing too fast for me, but that is to be expected, and probably won't ever stop.

Overall, I feel about a thousand times more comfortable with this mom gig than I did eleven months ago. Even the logistical things that used to make me hyperventilate (how are we going to get all of that into the car!?) are starting to freak me out less. I would say that things have definitely gotten easier. Except for one thing.

I did not take into account the shift that happens when a baby starts being more aware of his surroundings. Leaving Matty at daycare, putting him down on the floor after I carry him in from the car, even laying him down on my bed in the morning after I take him out of his crib - it is all cause for intense crying. This happy-go-lucky kid is suddenly very, very aware of when I am leaving him - even if it's just to walk across the room and he does not like it one bit.

I have always heard that around nine months babies start to develop separation anxiety, so this did not come as a total surprise. However, I've been thinking back to the first time I left Matty at daycare. It was a difficult experience, but the difficulty was all mine. I was sad to be leaving him. I was sad to go back to work. I was sad to be missing out on things. He, on the other hand, didn't know the difference. He was in a fun place with fun toys and he was perfectly happy. He had no understanding of my leaving and so once I got used to the idea of leaving him, the actual act of walking out the door was no big deal. Fast forward 7 months, and things have drastically changed. He knows exactly what's going on when I leave and he's not always so cool with it. Suddenly that walk out the door is a painful exchange of looks where I can see the pleading in my son's eyes saying "no, Mommy, please don't go." Amazingly, this sadness reached its height right after my husband and I left him with his grandparents for the weekend. I am always in awe of the intelligence babies have and the way they can translate experiences.

So, what's my point? Well, I like to find the lessons of parenthood along the way, and here is the one I've found in this new territory. Babies respond directly to how we behave. When a baby falls down the best thing to do is smile and say "boom! you're ok!," and clap our hands and make it seem like no big deal. It's when the grown ups start gasping and making a fuss that a kid will start crying (unless there's a real injury), because babies really do take our lead. So, as hard as it may be (and sometimes it's really, really hard), the best thing to do is just act like everything is fine. Every morning I drop my son off, and when it's time for me to go, I give him a kiss and I say goodbye and I tell him I'll be back at the end of the day. No drama. No drawn out goodbyes. Just a matter-of-fact exit. And when I realize he's going to start crying, I remind him again that I'll be back later, and then I go. I don't look back and I don't peek in (mostly because I consider that to be self-torture, although most often if I did look, I'd see that he's stopped crying within seconds of me walking out the door).

As I've always said, there is no right way to do this parenting thing. Different things really do work for different people, so I'm not suggesting this is the only way. Find something that works for you,  and go with it. The only thing I will caution against is this: it may seem like a good idea to sneak out so that the baby doesn't have a chance to get upset. Sometimes the thought of seeing that look and watching a baby cry is so distressing, that parents decide to leave while the child is looking the other way. The problem is that these early months are all about building trust. It's important for our babies to know that we leave them in the morning, but that we come back for them at night. Saying goodbye may be a rough moment, but it's a necessary one, as well. To be gone with no warning makes our children think that we can just disappear at any moment, which is an incredibly scary and anxiety-inducing notion.

These moments of sadness at separation are tough. Especially when reflecting on the fact that in the early days it was so much easier. But, it's also a good time for me to help my son understand that goodbye is not forever. I am teaching him now that he can trust that I will be there for him. I may have to go away sometimes - for work, or a trip with Daddy - but I will come back to him. In the long run, it's a really important thing for him to know, and I'm grateful that I have the opportunity to prove it to him now.

My Two Cents on Attachment Parenting

Attachment parenting has become quite a hot topic in the last few weeks. The TIME magazine cover has sparked a pretty roaring debate across the country about the methods of certain parents, particularly when it comes to the number of months they spend breastfeeding their children. However, if we are being honest, the first thing we have to admit is that most people – myself included – don’t know very much about this philosophy of parenting. For many people, the first real exposure they’ve had to this school of thought was a picture of a toddler dangling from his mother’s breast on the cover of a magazine. One can understand why that might have caused a strong reaction.

However, that cover is not the whole story, and in fact, I’m not even sure it’s really a part of the story. That picture was used specifically to get the response it has gotten. It was clearly going to bother people and that is usually what generates the most conversation. And it certainly has done that, so, mission accomplished. 

But, from an outsider perspective, the biggest problem with that photo is that it has completely taken the intimacy out of the experience of nursing. I remember having a conversation with one of my religious studies teachers in high school about the behaviors of some religious men in our neighborhood. I recall distinctly her telling me that I cannot and should not judge the entire religion based on people who practice it. It is a lesson that stuck with me, and it comes to mind today, when looking at attachment parents. From my limited understanding of the attachment theory, the idea is all about closeness and nurturing. I know nothing about the woman on that cover or her relationship with her children, but I know that picture does not send a message of closeness and nurturing. However, allowing ourselves to believe that this one photo of this one woman represents everything there is to know about attachment parenting is a big mistake.

In this Huffington Post article written by Alanis Morissette she discusses the most basic ideas behind attachment parenting. She addresses some of the issues that she knows people have, and touches on others that she acknowledges are worthy of a bigger conversation. I am not saying that I agree 100% with everything she has said, nor do I think this article is the end all of attachment parenting. But, I think it explains a lot of aspects of the theory that many people are unaware of. I recommend that all parents or parents-to-be read this article. For parents who think they may be interested in attachment parenting, this article may give you some insight into its benefits. For parents, like myself, who do not subscribe to this particular method of parenting, it is always a good idea to understand what is out there.

Most importantly, I think that we, the mothers of the world, need to start playing for the same team. Whether we nurse our children for 3 months, 30 months or no months. Whether our children sleep in our beds, in bassinets, or in cribs in their own rooms. We are all working the same job here. We are making the choices that we think are best for our children, and, as Alanis points out, for ourselves. We need to stop fighting each other. Let’s start giving other parents the benefit of the doubt that they have done their research and that the decisions they’ve come to make the most sense for them and their children. And let’s not judge entire philosophies based on a single photo.

A Few Things I Want to Tell My Son

It's so interesting to talk to soon-to-be-parents about their thoughts on the gender of their unborn child. So often, I hear men talking about how terrified they are of having girls. Not because they would prefer to raise sons, but because having been boys themselves not so long ago, they fear what awaits their daughters out there in the big, bad world. This fear does not go away for some fathers, and I have had several conversations with girlfriends of mine who have disclosed details of how carefully their fathers monitored their comings and goings as teenagers. These same friends have also said that their fathers did not treat their brothers the same way. I have seen similar behavior watching some of my parents friends with their children. I thought about this a lot when I was pregnant, and I vowed that if I had a girl, I would work with my husband to make sure that our daughter was not raised with that kind of double standard. Having grown up as a woman myself, I knew I would want her to learn to value her mind and to respect her body. I was confident that if I could teach her those two things and foster open communication, then there would be no reason to worry.

But I never really thought about what my vow would be if I had a boy. I grew up with three sisters, so I had no firsthand knowledge of what goes into raising a son. Then one day last August I gave birth to a boy and suddenly I had to think about it.  What kinds of traps can parents fall into when raising a boy? What messages are we unconsciously sending to our sons? What are we inadvertently doing to promote gender stereotypes in our own home? Are we doing anything to actively dispel any of these notions?

I've noticed over the last ten months that I've started looking at almost everything through this new lens of motherhood. Whether it be song lyrics, a TV show, or a story in the newspaper, I find myself critiquing the world, trying to figure out what messages are out there, potentially already invading my son's tiny head. Miller Lite has created an ad campaign where a group of male friends threaten one of their buddies with the confiscation of his "man card" for exhibiting certain "unmanly" behaviors. In one commercial the offending behavior is crying; in another, it is asking friends if they want to accompany him to the bathroom. I found myself wondering what commercials like this might convey to my son about what it is that makes him a man. Every time I see one of these commercials, it reminds me how hard I'm going to have to work to teach my son the things I want him to know. I decided to make a list of the messages I actually want him to receive. Not everything on this list is specifically related to the notions society directs towards men. But, with that idea as my guide, I thought about what I really want him to learn, and this is what I came up with. I am going to hold on to it and reread it from time to time to make sure I don't lose sight of the things that really matter.

1. Talking about your feelings does not make you weak. Women are not the only people with emotions. Everybody has feelings and it is important to share them with people you trust. Keeping your feelings pent up inside doesn't do anybody any good and will likely be damaging down the road.

2. It is okay to cry if you are sad, and in fact, I encourage it. I do not mean that every time you fall or scrape your knee, it is appropriate to cry. Nor do I mean that you must bare your soul publicly. But, when you are in pain, do not feel that you have to hide your tears from me, or your dad, or from the people you trust. It's okay to be vulnerable, it just means you are human.

3. There is no reason for you not to play with dolls if that's what you want to do. Learning a thing or two about loving and caring for someone who needs you will only serve you later in life.

4. Knowing how to apologize is just about the most important thing any person can learn.

5. Sometimes it will be impossible to avoid hurting someone you care about. That doesn't make you a bad person. But you can be respectful and decent even when letting people down. Make that a goal.

6. We live in a world that defaults to heterosexuality. You aren't even ten months old yet and already people look at you and make comments about your future girlfriends. I can only imagine how many times you will be made to feel like being with a woman is what is expected of you. I want you to know that I have no expectations when it comes to your sexuality. Your happiness is all that matters to your father and me. All we want is for you to love deeply and be loved in return.

7. If you don't like watching sports, that's okay. If you don't like playing sports, that's okay, too. I do hope you find something you love to do, though. And I hope you get to do it often.

8. My capacity to forgive is great, and my love for you is endless, but drink and drive and I will leave you in jail. 

9. "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me" is the single biggest lie adults have ever told children. Words can be deadly. Be careful with yours.

10. There is nothing unmanly about calling your mother.

Let's Be Honest About Breastfeeding

During pregnancy, women spend a lot of time weighing decisions that they will soon have to face: Will I learn the sex of the baby prior to the birth? Will I use drugs during delivery? Who will be with me in the delivery room?  Where will my baby sleep? And possibly the question that concerns new parents the most - will I breastfeed or formula feed?

Deciding how to feed a baby is a personal decision that each mother must come to on her own. Many women choose to breastfeed after doing some research on the topic. They find information about the plethora of good nutrients in breast milk and the bonding power of nursing. They read testimonials of mothers who have loved the breastfeeding experience, and they are bombarded with the new mantra of pediatricians: breast is best. These women hear the positivity associated with breastfeeding and come to the conclusion to do so without hearing the whole story.

While it is true that there is much to be gained from nursing - the health benefits cannot be denied and the time that mommy and baby spend being so physically close is unlike any other - it is important to know that breastfeeding is far from a walk in the park. What many women fail to learn before giving birth is that breastfeeding is hard. In fact, often it's really hard. If a new mom enters motherhood expecting to jump right into successful nursing, chances are she is going to be extremely disappointed.

New moms need to have realistic expectations in those first few weeks. If nursing is important to a new mother, then she should understand that there is a certain amount of commitment involved in reaching breastfeeding nirvana. There may be days when she feels like quitting. There may be many days like that, in fact. Lactation consultants can be very useful at these times, giving tips on positioning and helping baby latch effectively. It's crucial to remember that, even with their natural instincts, babies do not emerge from the womb knowing exactly how to eat. And new moms don't have any idea what they are doing either. It would be unfair to assume that two clueless human beings would be able to figure out something so complex so quickly. Some babies have an easier time learning to nurse than others. New moms should try hard not to compare their own stories to those of friends or family. Each baby is going to be different.

So, to the moms who have embarked on the breastfeeding journey, I offer you this advice. Be patient. Know that it is absolutely normal to take some time to work out the kinks, and give yourself that time. Don't be too hard on yourself or your baby. Learning a new skill never happens overnight.

And to the moms out there who are not breastfeeding for one reason or another, I want to say this: there is a lot of positive hype out there surrounding breastfeeding and its importance, but at the end of the day how a mother feeds her baby has absolutely nothing to do with how good a mother she is. Many women try the breastfeeding thing before coming to the conclusion that it isn't going to work for them, and then feel tremendous guilt about giving it up. Others know before giving birth that it is not something they are interested in and choose formula from the start. Whatever the circumstance, it is important to remember that there are thousands of opportunities every day for us to show our babies how much we love them, and there is plenty of time for bonding, with or without a breast. When it comes to motherhood, our job is to do the best we can. Only a mother in her own individual situation can know what that means for her.

A Lesson Learned in Forgiveness

I have been planning to write a blog post on forgiveness in parenting for some time. It has become one of the things I talk about most often in regards to being a new parent. I realized early on how important it is to be able to forgive yourself. When caring for a baby, it is inevitable that accidents will happen. From things as simple as getting some skin caught in the nail clipper to more frightening incidents like falls down the stairs. We certainly should take all the precautions we can to avoid situations where our children get hurt, but when the unavoidable ones happen, it is crucial to be able to forgive ourselves and move on.

I was thinking that this ability to forgive ourselves is one of the most difficult things to learn as new parents. And it is. But, what I didn't think about is the fact that I am not on this parenting journey on my own. I did not factor in the fact that I have a partner, and that he, too, may have moments where an error in judgment leads to a baby mishap. My failure to consider that possibility also means that I hadn't given any thought to how I might feel or react were such an event to occur.

Over the last nine-and-a-half months I have had my fair share of close calls when it comes to my son, Matthew. Just recently, I was using a sharp knife to cut up his food while he was sitting in his chair waiting for his dinner. I didn't realize how close I was to him or that he was reaching out to grab the food as I was cutting it. I saw his finger at the last possible second, just in time to move the knife away and sigh one of the biggest sighs of relief I've ever released. There have also been times when I have also turned my back for a quick second and turned back just in time to avoid disaster. In all of these instances, the worst-case-scenario of what could have happened plays over in my head several times, and I know that had I actually hurt him it would be very difficult to forgive myself. But, I also remind myself that at some point in the years of his development, accidents will happen. I will do my best to prevent them, and, of course, I hope not to cause them, but when they occur, I need to stay calm and do what is best for my son. Being a good parent isn't just about protecting him, it's also about caring for him when I am unable to protect him enough.

And so I have had this conversation with myself many times about how I will respond when the first accident occurs, and how I will try not to punish myself too much. And then it happened. He fell off the bed, and no one was quick enough to catch him. Only it wasn't me who was playing with him, it was my husband, Scott. And all of a sudden, all of that knowledge I have about how I've been close to this exact scenario several times before and how any of those times could have been different and how any day now I could look the wrong way at just the wrong second - all that went out the window. Suddenly I was filled with this righteous indignation that such a thing would never happen on my watch. I was listening to my baby cry and all I could think was "How could you let this happen?"

I found myself paralyzed. I felt anger rising up in me, but I knew I couldn't let it out. I knew deep down that it was unfair and that expressing it was going to be damaging. I kept thinking about how utterly awful I would feel had I been the one near him when he fell and how much worse it would be if my partner was yelling at me. I felt these two conflicting ideas raging within me - the emotional irrational anger versus the rational cognitive understanding. I did my best to focus on the task at hand - soothing Matthew and making sure he was alright - and not on the moments leading up to his fall. Ultimately, I think I got stuck somewhere in between my two minds, choosing not to address my husband directly until after the initial anger subsided. In all the times I had thought about how I would feel if I allowed something to happen to Matty, I never once thought about how angry Scott would be with me.

The whole ordeal lasted no more than five minutes from the moment of the fall til Matty had completely stopped crying and seemed to have forgotten it had even occurred. Once he had calmed down and I had time to think, I realized that I just as easily could have been the one playing with him by the bed. Over the last few weeks, his ability to move around has increased tenfold, and sometimes these changes happen from one day to the next. It is shocking how quickly he can get from one side of a bed to the other. A mistake was made, there is no question about it, but it does not mean that my husband isn't an excellent father (he is) or that I couldn't have made the same one (I could have).

I walked away from this whole experience with a very salient lesson in my pocket. Forgiveness is an extremely important tool in parenting. We must learn how to forgive ourselves, as I have been saying for some time. But, possibly more importantly, we need to be able to forgive our partners. Accidents can happen at any time, to any of us. Aside from cases of gross negligence, we are all doing the best we can. Even the greatest parent can make a poor judgment call at one time or another. We all know this, and yet when accidents occur, we feel our entire ability to be parents has been called into question. What we need from our partners is support and reassurance. We need to be reminded that we are wonderful parents and that everybody makes mistakes. What we do not need is to be interrogated about what we were thinking and berated for our errors. A conversation about ways to avoid similar situations may be appropriate at a later time, but in the direct aftermath of an accident, forgiving our partners can go a long way in promoting successful joint parenting.

It's Not Am I Mom Enough, It's Am I Me Enough

From the moment that my delicious son, Matthew, entered my life, he has been my world. In the really early days my entire being functioned around what he needed. I slept when he slept, I ate between his feedings. I changed diapers, ran to pediatrician's appointments and prewashed about a thousand items of clothing. When I factored in my own needs at all, they were always secondary to his. Through the last nine months he has grown, and the intense burden of the newborn days has been relieved a bit, but he is still the focus of most of my time.

I have never once questioned if I was "mom enough," as the provocative Time article has done. In fact, the question that I wondered more often than any other was if I was "me" enough. The life of a new mother is intense. It is incredible, but it is also all-consuming. I struggled, and still struggle, with trying to maintain my identity as I adapt to this new role.

Part of what made this struggle so profound for me is the total confusion of what my body, and all of its parts, are for. For the first 29 years of my life, my breasts had no other purpose other than to look pretty. They were ornamental at best, used to attract men and make tank tops look better. Suddenly, I give birth to a baby, and they've become the most functional, incredible, life-sustaining organs. It is a mind-boggling turn of events, one that I have not quite wrapped my brain around, even now.

I have very much enjoyed nursing my son. I still breastfeed him at night before bed and first thing in the morning. But I can say honestly that I will not feel that I am truly myself again until my breasts are my own. It is true that parenting requires sacrifice. There are many things I am sure I will give up along the way for my children. But my identity is not one of them. Three years is too long for me to be in the midst of this identity crisis. And truthfully, my husband deserves time when he is not sharing my body with our son.

I try very hard not to judge other mothers. We are all out here, fighting the good fight, doing what we can to give our sons and daughters the best possible lives. If you choose to nurse your child through toddlerhood, that is your prerogative. But do not suggest that if I do not that I am less of a mother than you are. I am a mother with every fiber of my being. Where I fear I may be lacking is as a wife. As a friend. Maybe as a daughter. But as a mother? Don't be ridiculous.