So you want a Me-Ternity leave?

I was right in the middle of writing a blog post for a client of mine on the topic of parental leave in the U.S., and then I read this. And my fingers started burning.

I had just spent my morning reflecting on the sometimes insurmountable challenges I faced before, during, and after pregnancy (for the record, I have 1 toddler and 7 month old twins; I also run a businesstwo, if you’re counting).

There are plenty of statistics out there for you to browse, but I’d like to share a few that feel most relevant to me now (since I did just do the research!):

So for starters, Meg (can I call you Meg?), a lot of women don’t have the LUXURY of taking maternity leave at all. Not in this country.

They simply can’t afford it.

I’m self-employed and gave myself 4 weeks of “maternity leave” to recover from an unplanned c-section and, you know, figure out how to mother a human infant. I’m glad I did it, but I didn’t make any money, and when I did start taking work again, I overdid it because I wanted to catch up. In the midst of it all my body felt like a wreck and my emotions were even worse. — Cindy

Like you, they’ve got bills to pay and more than just themselves to take care of. That’s right, 1/3 of my income regularly goes to my nanny so that I can enjoy the LUXURY of work.

I don’t even know where I fit in: I’m self-employed, worked right up until my son was born, then went back to work after two weeks. And now, I’m paying more than I wish just so I can work. — Erin

According to Pew Research Center, “40% of all households with children under the age of 18 include mothers who are either the sole or primary source of income for the family.”

What does this mean to you, Meg?

Well, let me break it down: this data shows that nearly half the mothers out there are actually working two full time jobs.

If they are salaried employees, they are likely working well over 40 hours for their ‘day jobs’ but of course that doesn’t include the ‘night shift.’ Yep, the one you take on the second you walk in the door after a long, productive day at work. Your toddler is whiny and hungry. Your baby is colicky, and the best part of your Monday is probably that big glass of wine you might enjoy for 15 minutes while sitting on the floor of your bathroom while you bathe your kid.

Although my birth experience was positive and empowering in many ways, it was certainly not equivalent to a spa weekend designed to reconnect and recharge. Yes, someone brought me food on a tray, but it was chicken broth and applesauce, not a mimosa and organic salad, and instead of a Swedish massage for my aching back, my breasts were massaged to express milk for my new baby. — Nicole

But what about weekends? You probably spend yours drinking coffee and “world traveling.” That sounds nice, Meg. I miss those days. I don’t have the LUXURY of taking a vacation right now. Moving on.

My newborn was colicky, gassy, slept only on me, ate non stop, and cried every night from 11pm to 3am. When I wasn’t nursing, I was pumping; and when I wasn’t pumping, I was nursing. I averaged about 4 hours of interrupted sleep; my nipples were cracked and bleeding, and I was, as it turns out, suffering from postpartum anxiety, which was agonizing. My work gave me 8 weeks paid and 4 weeks unpaid, and I took all 12 weeks because that is how long it took for me to barely (just barely) pull myself together. — Olga

I’m one of the lucky ones. I lived in California during both of my pregnancies, where the state requires employers to give employees 6 weeks of partially paid time off to take care of their baby. AND, both of my previous employers supplemented my time off with either additional time and/or money.

I know what you’re thinking: It’s so unfair that all these mothers get to just vacation for six weeks while I put in hard time at work. I want to “shift” my focus away from work. The “flexibility” you get with maternity leave is enviable.

PERKS? How about the sleep deprivation, bloody, cracked nipples, mastitis, stitches that refuse to heal, cleaning up a carpet covered in baby poo, and going days without showering. — Melody

Meg, I have a nifty little idea for you: it’s called a sabbatical, and it’s pretty attainable by all. It’s not that radical. All you have to do is ask your boss for some time off to reflect. Or, just quit your job to grow and learn. Bonus: you’ll actually be able to do all those things without all the nasty child-bearing and rearing business. Just call it what it is: a sabbatical.

And I’d like to clue you in: maternity leave isn’t much different from a sabbatical: except most women don’t get paid. No. They actually have to WORK FOR FREE. Go back to those intern days, Meg!

This thinking is the problem with America’s approach to maternity leave.

You see, Meg, your book and this thinking is the problem with America’s approach to maternity leave. You’re not the only one that believes it’s a vacation. As my friend Hannah (who doesn’t have kids yet!) aptly said, parenthood requires you to clock out of your day job and clock into another job that is in many regards much more draining. There’s little time to reflect.

It’s not about ‘me’ at all.

Thank you so much to my wonderful friends (online and offline), mothers and non-mothers, who helped contribute to this piece. #girlpower

P.S. Let’s help make change happen faster.