\n<\/p>\n
I was only three months pregnant the first time I learned there\u2019s no foolproof plan for juggling parenthood and career.<\/p>\n
My boss quit and I was interviewing to backfill her position. I thought needing maternity leave would be a dealbreaker so I didn\u2019t mention that I was pregnant and obviously, no one asked. The whole time it felt like this huge, unspoken thing that took up space and gave new meaning to \u201cthe elephant in the room\u201d as I danced around it.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t get the job.<\/p>\n
When it was my turn to meet with the woman who would become my new boss, one of the first things out of her mouth was \u201cby the way, I\u2019m five months pregnant!\u201d \ud83d\ude04<\/p>\n
That was the first time I learned there was no point in hiding the fact that parenting affects your career, but it wasn\u2019t the last.<\/p>\n
I wasted countless hours trying to control the uncontrollable, attempting to shape my career around the demands of motherhood. Even now that I\u2019ve left, as I send another email that starts with \u201csorry for the delay,\u201d it\u2019s clear that I\u2019m in year 7 of an identity crisis where I write about my freedom<\/a> as if my son doesn\u2019t impact it<\/p>\n It gets old, doing this dance around disclosure. Constantly calculating whether being honest about your responsibilities at home will come back to bite you in the performance review. But that\u2019s the game, isn\u2019t it? We pretend like our lives don\u2019t extend beyond the 9-5, even though our roles extend way beyond just being employees.<\/p>\n Wednesday was my son\u2019s last day of school, and this week\u2019s podcast episode<\/a> is about our plans to have an unstructured summer.<\/p>\n \n