Womb to Bloom - Maternity & Beyond

You’ve made several big decisions recently – to have a baby and to quit your job to stay home with said baby. Your decision to stay home may be the fulfillment of a lifelong goal or dream. Or it may be a largely financial decision if your income doesn’t greatly exceed your child care and other work-related expenses. Or a combination of the two. Any which way you look at it, it can be a difficult transition – even if making the choice was easy.

Of course, it all depends on your personality and your work history and experiences. I know, in my situation, the transition has been rocky. When I was in high school, I wasn’t even sure that I wanted to have children in the future. I was pretty driven academically and saw my future self as a career woman for sure. Never a stay-at-home mom. I went to college and then to law school. My thoughts about kids changed as I matured and became involved in grown-up relationships. But I still always saw myself as a working mom.

I was working too hard at my education to think that I would, someday relatively soon, walk away from my career. That and the enormous mountain of law school debt I accrued. I became a litigation attorney and then got married. I had two children and kept working. I was lucky enough to work at a law firm that allowed me to keep a somewhat flexible schedule.

After ten years of practicing law, I discovered I was expecting twins. I was fortunate that my husband and I were in a financial position which allowed me the choice of working or staying home. And I just knew that I would not be able to handle being a trial lawyer and a mom to four young children at the same time. Many women can and do handle it every day. They do it well. It just wasn’t going to work for me.

So, I quit. I was a partner at my law firm. I had gone to college for seven years and passed two bar exams. I had paid off student loans that would make your head spin. And I was walking away from it all.

Suddenly, my days passed without meaningful adult interaction. My brain craved exercise. My daily wardrobe went from tailored suits and dresses purchased at high-end stores to jeans and T’s. My calendar was filled with playdates and swim lessons instead of court dates and depositions. If I wanted to have lunch with a friend, I had to arrange a babysitter in advance. The way in which I spent the majority of my everyday life for ten years was gone.

It felt really great for a while – like a long vacation. But soon, it felt like Groundhog Day. Everything the same, day after day. I peppered my husband with high-speed conversation the second he got home every evening. I craved adult interaction. I no longer had interesting work stories to tell. I had kid stories – just like every other mother on earth. I felt like I was boring my husband and my friends. I was aimless because I had no real schedule for the first time in my life – at least when the bigger kids weren’t in school. It felt like everything about me had changed overnight.

I started scheduling playdates with my kids’ friends and their moms, then feeling anxious beforehand as if it were a date. Will she like me? Will I like her? Will we want to hang out and be friends eventually? I was so unsure of my new self and so much in need of intelligent adults with whom to spend time that these “dates” made me nervous.

I won’t lie. It’s been over two years now and I still struggle with the whole identity change. I run into former colleagues here and there and I sometimes still feel a little self-conscious about my choice. Like I’m not as smart or sophisticated anymore (it’s hard to feel sophisticated when you’ve got today’s fingerpaint project on your shirt and you’re wiping someone’s drool off your jacket). I can’t really discuss recent legal cases with two toddlers yelling at me from the double stroller while in line at the deli. And I’m a bit jealous that life goes on at the firm without me.

It’s probably just my nature – I don’t generally have self-esteem issues but this seems to be the one tough area for me. I wouldn’t change my choice for the world and I don’t know that I’ll ever go back to the practice of law. I’ve settled into my new job now. And when I think about it, it’s ultimately not much different than lawyering.

Now as then, I often have unreasonable clients who seem unable to communicate a rational thought. I deal with emotional people who look to me to solve their problems. I defend those who need defending. I prosecute those who need prosecuting. I have a high stress level and very demanding clients. I use my negotiating and mediating skills daily. My calendar is filled with appointments, usually six or seven days a week. I often take complicated situations and processes and explain them to my little clients in plain English.

So, maybe my law school education isn’t going to waste after all. And maybe I’m not that different now either.