Ladies, gather ’round. Prepare yourselves for a revelation that might just rock your world: Motherhood has a significant impact on your professional journey.
I apologize for my sarcasm, but I find it frustrating to see a surge of articles flooding my social media feeds claiming to unveil a shocking truth about the gender pay gap: Motherhood is the culprit. To the esteemed Ph.D. researchers out there, let me clarify—this isn’t new information. It’s the reality for many of us.
Take, for instance, a recent piece from Vox that highlights a striking graph illustrating the crux of the gender wage gap: it’s primarily a child care issue. The article reveals that men’s and women’s salaries are comparable—until a woman gives birth. The author expresses astonishment that in today’s world, even in the most progressive Scandinavian countries, mothers still bear the brunt of child care responsibilities. This disparity inevitably hampers their careers.
At this point, I imagine women across the country rolling their eyes in unison and muttering, “No kidding. Share something we don’t already know.”
The author and her expert offer two potential explanations—neither of which are mutually exclusive. The first is an environmental perspective, where societal norms create barriers for mothers trying to maintain their careers. Under this framework, mothers may miss out on job opportunities that require travel or long hours due to the assumption that they are the main caregivers.
The second explanation is biological, suggesting that women may have a stronger inclination to engage in child care. I wouldn’t label it a preference though—nobody relishes changing diapers or calming a fussy baby. However, priorities do shift after childbirth. My partner and I made a conscious decision that my career would take a backseat after we welcomed our first child. While I had just earned my master’s degree, he was the primary earner, and someone needed to be the available parent.
Once I cradled my newborn, that economic choice morphed into an emotional one. That tiny, crying bundle became my top priority, eclipsing my professional aspirations. I contemplated quitting my job, but we relied on my income, even after accounting for daycare costs.
Leaving my infant at daycare for the first time at ten weeks old was heartbreaking. To cope, I vowed he would never be last to be picked up and that I’d attend every event and milestone. Thankfully, I have a supportive job with generous leave policies and benefits, and I can afford daycare. My spouse is equally involved, but balancing everything remains an ongoing challenge. I often opt for takeout, hire help to keep our home in order, and I feel guilty when I let my son watch too much television.
He always seems to sense when I face impending deadlines—that’s when he gets sick. I’ve managed to complete entire work projects during naptime and at night, answering calls from the pediatrician’s parking lot or while preparing dinner. My limited ability to travel or commute further restricts my job options.
I recall a moment when my son was six months old, feeling devastated over a potential promotion. It was an opportunity I desired, and I likely would have been considered, but it involved too much travel. I could have spent a significant portion of the raise hiring a nanny, but the thought of being away from my baby was unbearable. I had spent months nurturing him through a challenging pregnancy, and I couldn’t bear the idea of someone else raising him.
That decision was tough, yet it felt clear, and I have never regretted it. Eventually, the right job opportunity presented itself a few years later, one that I cherish and provides even more flexibility. This is fortunate, as I’m currently expecting my second child.
The thought of juggling two drop-offs and pick-ups next fall fills me with anxiety—more sleepless nights and double the sick days. I would gladly trade six months of unpaid maternity leave for a part-time schedule. Honestly, I’m not interested in promotions right now, given the additional stress and responsibility they entail.
And this brings me to what I dislike about the term “child care penalty.” The word “penalty” feels dismissive, implying that there’s something shameful about being a mother, something to regret. What I truly regret is the lack of flexible work arrangements, the absence of paid maternity leave in our country, and the exorbitant cost of quality childcare options. I deeply empathize with those women who lack the privileges I have.
However, I don’t regret choosing to prioritize my children. It’s a choice rooted in love. My most significant role isn’t the one that comes with a paycheck; it’s the one where I offer hugs, prepare meals, read bedtime stories, wipe noses, and attend doctor’s appointments. It’s about raising two boys to be decent, hardworking individuals who contribute positively to society and treat women with respect.
That’s what motherhood means to me.
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Summary
The article explores the ‘motherhood penalty,’ highlighting how motherhood impacts women’s careers and earnings. It emphasizes the emotional choices mothers make, the challenges they face in balancing work and family, and the societal structures that contribute to unequal outcomes. Despite the challenges, the author expresses that prioritizing children is a choice made out of love, not regret.