Updated: August 10, 2018
Originally Published: August 9, 2018
Only women seem to sign up for this kind of chaos.
First, let me acknowledge my privilege: I’m a white woman with a college degree, married, residing in a picturesque mountain town. I have a fulfilling career. I count myself among the fortunate ones.
Yet, here’s the reality of what “having it all” looks like from my perspective: Recently, while strolling to pick up my mail, I felt pretty accomplished. I have a 3.5-year-old and just welcomed a new baby a month ago. Despite the chaos, I’ve managed to work almost nonstop, providing enough income to cover my family’s needs and support my husband’s business. I’ve created work I take pride in, all without mentioning my recent childbirth to anyone.
But just as I was patting myself on the back for these “achievements,” I felt an unexpected surge of urgency—urine spilled out of me, right through my light-gray sweatpants. Mortifying, especially when my neighbor waved hello. By the time I returned home, I had to join a conference call while still in those wet pants. Fortunately, the baby remained asleep, but as soon as the call ended, my newborn woke up wailing for food, leaving me stuck in those pants for another half-hour. After burping the baby and getting vomit in my hair—no time to fix it, so I just clipped it back—I quickly changed and got back to work.
At 5 p.m., my older child dashed in, asking about the brownies I promised. I hadn’t made them. Then, my husband wanted to know what was for dinner. Slinging the baby onto my chest, I went downstairs to tackle both the meal and those brownies.
“Uh-oh, I think I might have popped a stitch.”
“What? That sounds serious!”
“Yeah, it doesn’t feel right, but what am I going to do about it?”
After that, I managed to take a shower, but the stinging from my healing body was a harsh reminder of my recent experience. I settled back into bed with an ice pack on my sore area, a baby nursing, and a laptop balanced on my lap.
For the past month, I’ve barely left this room aside from grabbing food. I took just one day off to give birth. Think about that for a moment. Thankfully, there’s a bathroom here.
As I glance at the pile of laundry and the bag of dirty diapers nearby, the smell is overwhelming.
I’m not a single mother. My husband is supportive and helps out more than many fathers. I’m not struggling to make ends meet. My only real challenge is navigating the complex landscape of being a working mother in the U.S.
Here’s the crux: the concept of “having it all” is fundamentally misunderstood. The feminist movements of the ’60s aimed to expand choices for women. Want to enjoy sex without the risk of pregnancy? Go for it. Need to terminate a pregnancy due to personal circumstances? That’s your choice. Want to work? Absolutely. Prefer to stay home with the kids? Perfect. Want to do a mix of both? Great! The notion that women can do everything simultaneously is unrealistic.
By that logic, single working mothers have been “having it all” for years, but society doesn’t hold them up as role models. Instead, it’s often perceived as a situation of hardship. Yet, this disregard for the realities of working mothers is pervasive across socioeconomic statuses when we encourage women to juggle careers and children without changing the systems that support them.
No one ever said, “Let’s create a life where I wake up at 5 a.m., make breakfast, get dressed impeccably, drop the kids at daycare, work for ten hours, fetch the kids, prepare dinner, clean up, put the kids to bed, and then work until midnight, all on five hours of sleep.”
We’ve shifted the narrative for women without altering the underlying expectations. Today, the message is clear: you should have a career and children, or else you’re deemed lazy or inadequate. But do it all without support, maternity leave, or reliable childcare, and without your husband playing a more significant role.
Companies may promote egg-freezing benefits for women, yet they fall short in providing the necessary space to have children during prime years without career setbacks. Instead of systemic change, women are told to “lean in,” as though it’s their fault for not being proactive enough. I’m leaning in so far that I’m stumbling.
Yes, I recognize that fathers play a role, and paternity leave is significant. However, the physical recovery from childbirth and the demands of a newborn are realities we often overlook. Acknowledging that women might need more recovery time isn’t an indictment of men; it’s a call for societal improvement.
I’ve frequently faced judgment from women for being pregnant or for not being available for evening meetings because of my kids. Ironically, I’ve encountered more criticism from women regarding my parenting choices than from men.
I don’t believe the world owes me an easy path, nor do I expect to navigate life without trade-offs. However, we need to stop perpetuating the fantasy that women can have it all without sacrifices. The truth is that wanting both a career and kids is achievable, but it often means feeling inadequate in both areas. Time off is elusive, and you’ll constantly juggle competing priorities, often at the expense of your well-being.
If we truly want to reshape the narrative for women, we must change societal norms. We should make it genuinely acceptable for women to choose not to have children without facing constant questioning. And we must also allow women the option to step back from work without being labeled as wasting their potential.
We need to provide sufficient support for all women, regardless of their background. Maternity leave and job security should be universal rights, not privileges of the upper class. Working isn’t a luxury for most mothers; it’s a necessity.
Let’s create an environment where women can openly acknowledge their pregnancies or take the necessary time off without jeopardizing their careers. Let’s redefine “having it all,” or better yet, let each woman figure out what that means for herself. In hindsight, reflecting on my first month with my new son and feeling pride in hiding my motherhood is profoundly disheartening.
For more insights on fertility and motherhood, consider checking out resources from Make A Mom and NICHD. For those exploring the complexities of reproductive health, Intracervical Insemination offers valuable information.
Summary
This article candidly explores the challenges faced by modern women trying to balance career and motherhood. It critiques the notion of “having it all,” emphasizing the need for societal change to support women’s choices, whether they involve parenting, working, or a combination of both.