gratitude-a-thon day 290: being paid to be a mom

This is an interesting article on what monetarily you’re worth is as a mom (http://www.thedailybeast.com/witw/articles/2013/12/03/why-stay-at-home-moms-should-demand-postnuptial-agreements.html).

Hmmmmmm.  I hope it’s worth more than just some green stuff.

I have struggled with the work/mommy thing since I was 35 and had my first child. Having been in the work world for a lot of years, and having an identity tied to being an independent person out there who made her own paycheck, and got professional fulfillment from a day of conceptual thinking (and let’s not be silly–doing a lot of other crap), it was challenge to stop working and start being a stay at home mom. The struggle wasn’t like cloth vs. disposable diapers (easy choice there, DISPOSABLE, sorry globally warmed earth), it was much more complex, and not something you could buy at CVS.

Having a three year war with infertility forced me to think deeply about what it is to have children, to be a mom, a parent. First of all, you have to accept that we’re driven to procreate by our biology. In other words, we almost unconsciously must have children to keep the species going. But that aside, which I know is a large factor to put aside, why do we do it? Is it an act of selflessness, or an act of selfishness?

For me, being a parent has been the biggest, most important, and best part of my life. I was not a little girl who always wanted to be pregnant and have babies, in fact, I always wanted to adopt. I didn’t feel the immediate need to start the family thing when I got hitched at 26 (and given the reality, I couldn’t have anyway, even if God himself had decided to have sex with me). It was one of those things that was on my future list of to do’s. I wanted to be a mother, but it felt like something I would attempt far into the future. Maybe I knew I wasn’t ready? Maybe I knew I was still too selfish? Maybe I knew I needed some professional success before I could fully give in to the multi-level challenge that wipes that smile off your face, gives you more joy than the fulfillment of the eternal quest for world peace. Whatever it was, I finally did it, should say, I was ABLE to do it (not an easy task for me).

And it was like nothing I could have ever imagined. I felt connected to the world in a way I never had before, a part of the bigger whole. I alternately felt terrified and blissful eighteen times a day. I was fascinated by my baby–all his fingers and toes in exactly the right places, his giant eyes that looked right into me–someone who had been renting space inside my stomach for nine months, and at the same time, scared like I just heard a nuclear warhead was heading to Boston, of what he meant for me. How could I ever work in advertising, AT ANYTHING, for that matter, with the daunting responsibility of taking care of this little guy, of teaching him all the really important stuff that needed to be learned to make his way in the big, bad, amazing and phenomenal world?

I struggled. Some women are cut out for the immense need a baby has for his mommy, but I felt like I was in a very tiny elevator. Claustrophobia set in early and I knew I needed to work. Let me make one thing crystal clear, I WAS ELATED TO HAVE MY BOY. IT WAS AGAINST ALL ODDS, AND I LOVED HIM LIKE he loved his bottle (UNTIL HE WAS TWO, BY THE WAY,and yes, I nursed, but only for four months–go head and judge me). But after an adult life of working, it was a switch I couldn’t make without a lot of grieving and ultimately, without doing the thing that was the hardest–being a mom and working.

I don’t get all judgey about the mommy wars because it’s a private and personal choice that isn’t always made because of emotional reasons, but because of financial reasons and because of a whole lot of other reasons, too. I was lucky, not that we were super wealthy, but just that we made choices that allowed me not to work if I wanted not to. But I wanted to, AND YET IT WAS TOTALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO SPREAD MYSELF SO FUCKING THIN.

Ultimately, for the kind of person I am, my stamina level, the fact that we didn’t have parents who were helping out all the time (Not that mine might not have, but they were dead, so that was that), I chose to work as a freelancer. And this was a good choice for me. Not necessarily a choice that would keep me making a full time salary, but a choice that allowed me to do some of what had made me, me to start with, and some of what would make me feel I had responsibly and lovingly given what I needed and wanted to my children. It was also a choice I made with my husband. Was it perfect? No. Nothing is, but once you have kids, you do what’s closest to perfect, as imperfect as that may be.

But the monetary value? Of being a teacher, psychologist, mentor, diaper changer, drool wiper, snot rag, vomit receptacle, chef, driver, entertainer, innovator, moral center, housekeeper, play date maker, school volunteer, policeman, doctor, lawyer and indian chief? Well, you couldn’t pay me enough. There isn’t a high enough salary for any parent is the real truth.

But you needn’t pay me at all. Isn’ t this our choice–to be parents? Nobody forces you to begin a family. It’s a choice. And that choice is not about the cutest little ugg boots, and all wheel drive strollers and designer nurseries, it’s about actually raising up a person. A WHOLE PERSON WHO DIDN’T USED TO BE HERE, BUT IS HERE BECAUSE YOU BROUGHT THEM HERE. Our choice. A couple’s choice. One you don’t have to make.

So, should I be paid for all my missed earnings? Why no, because I proudly, (and admittedly sometimes frustratingly), count being a mom as a privilege I was lucky enough to experience. It has given me, and continues to give me more than enough, even if it isn’t in the form of cash.

Now if I were to divorce, would I think it fair for my full time working husband to give me support, my lost earnings? Support yes. But lost earnings, no. Again, I go back to the choice we made as a couple, to be parents and to have me work part time. It’s what made the best sense. Choice, people is the key here.

I know I’ve made a lot of parenting mistakes, but I tried hard, the hardest I have ever tried at anything, but I still think it seems odd to consider my missed earnings as owed to me. Being a parent is a payday in itself. It’s a choice you make with another person. And I for one, feel really lucky to have gotten to play this gig.