Who you are, What you do

Returning to work as a new mother is one of the most challenging things I've ever done.  Driving away from the house, away from my baby, feels utterly insane; every instinct is screaming for me to jump the curb and race home to nurse/snuggle him.  Sitting alone and topless in my office 3 times throughout the workday to pump feels like the most absurd other-reality - why am I hiding in a shitty little room pumping my milk out, looking at pictures of my baby, pounding 32oz of water in 15 mins and eating microwave oatmeal to try and magically increase my supply (jury's out but I'm SO hungry and thirsty)... WHY am I not at home just nursing my baby?

My 3 month old nursling

Money, really.  I have to make money because we live in the Bay Area and, even with university housing, my family needs my income.  I have to make money because my husband patiently waited and worked while I finished my degree, and now it's his turn to go to school for something he loves.  I have to make money so we can save for Henry's education (and inevitable orthodontia), save for our retirement, save for my future cat rescue (Chris, if you're reading this, yes we are going to have a cat rescue, it's going to be awesome and potentially spawn a reality TV show, which will in turn fund aforementioned retirement.  Or we will just have many cats, probably more than you want.  Love you, bye!).  I have to make money to pay off my student loan debt (oh the Alanis Morrisette irony).  So I sit in a little room, working and pumping and missing my baby.  And this leads to a very secret and deep dark thought:

I wish I was a stay at home mom.

My mama, the most awesome SAHM, now being a SAHG for my babe

Why is this a secret thought?  It's not because I have internalized judgment about SAHMs (that's a hip abbreviation I learned from my cool mom-friend, hi Hilary!), I was raised by one.  Watching my mom be a mother to 4 children and keep an immaculately-running home would convince any doubter of the legitimacy of this profession.  I know that SAHMs encounter judgment - people (mainly stupid internet people who don't have kids) think these parents are betraying the feminist fight for freedom outside of the home.  I get it.  Women fought for centuries to gain the right to work, and we still don't have equal rights and pay, and it can feel like being a SAHM is now a privileged position.  Claiming that you are persecuted as a SAHM because people are mean to you online, while really you are enjoying the privilege of being home with your child and not feeling the burden of needing to bring in income, it's easy to see why tempers flare.  On the other hand, SAHMs do get judged.  For some insane reason, uninformed individuals think that being home with children and running a house makes a person "lazy."  Jealous working moms might feel resentful, and this bitterness leads them to think SAHMs have it easier.  Working mothers can feel attacked in the same way.  Either they wish they could be home, but need to make money, or they value working and should not be made to feel guilty about that.  Jealous SAHMs might feel resentful of the praise working moms get for balancing so many responsibilities, and this bitterness leads them to think working moms are getting too much credit.  If I'm a SAHM, maybe I worry that others will think I'm lazy or letting my sister-suffragettes down...so I need to be ultra defensive and proud of my SAHM status by posting about it constantly on facebook and arguing in comment threads.  If I'm a working mom maybe I worry that others will think I'm neglecting my children or am a selfish ambition-hungry harpy queen...so I need to be ultra defensive and proud of my working mom status by posting about it constantly on facebook and arguing in comment threads

The common theme of all of this is guilt and feelings of inadequacy - powerful tools of the patriarchy!  .  

Really it all boils down to the same thing - we love our children, and we long to be free.  This conflict of motherhood shows me how much freedom we still have to gain as women.  How can we truly own and embrace power if we're so distracted by feeling guilty and inadequate for every choice we make?

I've spent my first 2 weeks back at work thinking about what space I occupy in this quagmire.  Truthfully, if I went home today and told my husband "I can't do it, I can't work, I need to be home with Henry to be a happy and fulfilled person," we would find a way to make that work.  He would probably have a panic attack, and we would likely need to move to a smaller apartment, and we would be eating crust-of-bread and water... but we could make it happen.  And when Chris is done with school and finances are less strained, that may become a more realistic possibility.  But why am I working now?  Why is my wish to be a stay at home mom a "secret" one?  Yes, money is the largest motivator.  But there is also a small part of me that feels guilty for me.  I spent 6 years getting a Ph.D.  I killed myself to get the best internship and postdoc positions I could find.  I devoted almost daily time throughout my pregnancy to studying for my licensing exam.  And now, after all of that, to be on the brink of receiving my license as a clinical psychologist, with my dreams a fingertip away, I don't want to work... It makes me start to question how and why I went down this path, and if I went back in time, would I make the same choices?

I had exactly one conversation about getting my Ph.D.  I was 2 years into my B.A. at UW, and had already completed all of the requirements in the English major.  I'd had several disheartening moments of looking around at my peers in the creative writing department and realizing that we had little to nothing in common.  It seemed to me like people who were/are successful writers are people who thrive, in one way or another, on the anxiety of survival.  I love writing.  But I didn't think I could spend the rest of my life scrambling to create.  I felt ashamed of this, like a sellout, and that's how I ended up in the psychology advising office.  Like hundreds of other undergrads, I'd loved my Psych 101 course, and so I started to wonder, is my passion for literature more a passion for understanding the human experience?  And so I made an appointment to figure out how I could complete a psych major in 2 years.  During that appointment, I asked what someone had to do to become a psychologist.  I wanted to get as far away from the anxiety of failure as a writer as possible, so, I thought, I'm going to be a scientist!  No one can reject me if I'm a researcher! (cue laughter).  The adviser said, "well, you would need to get a Ph.D.  To be competitive for that, you should start volunteering at the crisis clinic and doing undergrad research."  The Hermione in me was purring.  A plan.  A challenge!  I left the office, joined a research lab, started volunteering at the crisis clinic, and after I graduated, I applied to Ph.D. programs.  Seven years later, here I am, a bona fide psychologist with a (semi) steady paycheck.  Why did I do this? Am I a big phony?  

There have been many moments, including recently, that I have questioned this path.  The part of me aching to be home with my son wonders, would it have been the braver thing to do to write a book and try to make it as a writer?  If I had made this choice, I would probably be home right now.  Did I let fear of failure push me into this career, and now that I've done it, am I just in too deep to redirect?  I accumulated a house's worth of student debt, and subjected myself and my family to years of struggle to make it here.  And let's even take being a writer out of the equation, what I'm really longing for right now is to be a stay at home mom.  My three months of maternity leave confirmed what I already knew, that there's no more demanding profession... but you don't need a Ph.D. in clinical psychology to do it.  WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?

Throughout my years in clinical supervision, I've had many conversations about "getting the clients you need."  Through some strange kismet of the universe (are you there, God, it's me, Katey), it often seems to happen that, just when you're struggling with something, coming to a large realization, or losing faith in your profession, an even more meaningful client will walk through your door.  Someone who really needs you to have your shit together and not be crying into your breast pump or showing them pictures of your baby (I swear I've never done this, don't report me to the ethics committee).  Or maybe the emotional vulnerability that accompanies major life events allows you to become even more attuned to and present with your clients.  Either way, I've had this experience several times throughout my therapist-life, and, luckily, this happened again yesterday.  After pumping for the 2nd time during my workday and crying about missing my baby, I was deep in my own mind:

I want to be a stay at home mom.

I think I need to quit, I can't do this.

Just become a Beachbody coach, all the moms are doing it.

My boobs hurt.

Where can I get donuts?

I MISS MY BABY!

And then a client needed me to have my shit together.  He came in seeking support for depression and childhood sexual abuse, and I was amazed by his simultaneous strength and vulnerability.  I couldn't help but reflect on how incredibly lucky I am to bear witness to people's lives.  How amazing it is that people will share the most intimate parts of their mind with someone in the brave hope that they will receive help in return, and how much strength it takes to ask for that help.  And I am fortunate enough to get to be the one to help, or when I can't help, to simply be the one to sit through it with them.  

I am profoundly honored.

When people ask me how I can do my job - "How do you sit there and listen to horrible things all day?  How do you not get burnt out by the weight of all that?  How can you deal with crazy people all the time?" - to me, the answer is easy.  This job has never felt burdensome to me.  I am honored to be a witness, to be a helper, to have one small role in someone's large and complex life. 

When I tap into this feeling, I know that I am doing exactly what I'm "supposed" to be doing.  That Who I Am is mommy, but What I Do is important, too.

Now, REAL TALK, if someone walked in to my office right now and said "here's a million dollars to be a stay at home mommy" I would drop my job in a heartbeat.  I love you, crazy people, but Henry is just superior to all other humans.  But I've realized this week that, if I have to work (and I do), I might as well be doing something I also love.  I've realized that nothing can compare to how much I love being with my child, and maybe that has to be ok.  I didn't make the wrong choice before, I made the choice based on the dreams I had then, not knowing that there would be new levels of happiness, new dreams, that nothing but being a mother could have awakened.  But until my Cat Rescue reality show pans out and brings that boatload of money in, I'm going to do what I do 2nd best and work.

Now then, does anyone know where I can get some donuts?  I'm so hungry.

Who are you, and what do you do?  And how do you navigate both?  Comment and let me know!  If you have ideas for future blog posts, or want to me to chat about something, comment that, too.

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With love from, Katey