Kudos Mrs. Mayer, Here’s to You!

Rarely ever do I read USA Today or any other big news publication. I scan headlines for something that might peak my interest and then I might read an article or two. But I habitually avoid mainstream news. A bad practice, I know, but after seven years and multiple separations from my Soldier husband, it’s my own form of survival.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not out of touch with the what’s going on in the world, I just have a very selective attention span. I can digest what I need to know in just a few minutes via the multiple apps on all of my Apple products.

I will however, drop everything for a little women power commentary in any kind of news outlet, which is why after the Marissa Mayer Yahoo CEO announcement this week, I found myself immersed in a USA Today cover story focused solely on her pregnancy announcement.

USA Today wasn’t the only media source covering this “shocking revelation” from Mayer, made right on the heels of her appointment to Yahoo CEO. But the article, in its entirety rubbed me the wrong way. So much so, I read it twice.

And here’s why. I am Marissa Mayer. Ok, minus the $100 million, minus being CEO of an Internet giant, minus being 37, minus…ok well minus everything. I am NOT Marissa Mayer, you got me. But I’m not far off from where she must be mentally in her life right now. USA Today explores why she would even think of admitting she will be working through maternity leave, whether or not she can totally bond with her infant, and claims she is “testing the glass ceiling” and throwing all maternal caution to the wind. Ok, no, it doesn’t come right out and say that, but it’s what I took away. But coming from someone who has been there, I get it. I get Marissa Mayer.

Before I thought it would be super cool to join the Land of the Consultants, I worked in local government, where as a Public Affairs person, I was expected to drop everything when the city or county needed me. Sixty-hour weeks weren’t uncommon and a trip to the Wal-mart in sweatpants and a t-shirt meant I was going to run into at least 15 people who would interrogate me about sewer rehabilitation, street resurfacing, and other riveting topics.

When I was pregnant with what I called the most planned out fetus that ever did occupy a uterus, it was awful, uncomfortable, painful, and most importantly, nauseating. Elizabeth Banks’s emotional breakdown scene from the movie, What to Expect When You’re Expecting, is a perfect depiction of what most people call a beautiful experience. It’s not, don’t let anyone lie to you. Twenty-two weeks into my pregnancy, I called BS on the whole thing. But for the entire 39 weeks, I worked. When the nausea was too much, you could find me under my desk on a nice little pillow that looked like it might make a great dog bed. Five minutes, sometimes ten, the earth stopped spinning and I could be productive again. I was shameless about my need and desire to keep doing what I loved and what I had worked hard for. Plenty of judgment, a few pounds, and nine months later, I found myself completely exhausted when I literally held my new responsibility.

But not powerless.

Yup, I worked on my maternity because grant deadlines don’t take a maternity note. And at 6 weeks, with a husband on a yearlong deployment and me on my own, I marched back into my office with an intact, though somewhat tattered super woman cape blowing in the wind.

Now I know that’s not for everyone. And Yes, Mrs. Mayer may have a lot more at her fingertips than I did with a newborn, but she didn’t get to where she is because she is incapable of multi-tasking.  And I have a sneaky suspicion that she understands the expectations of motherhood…and of being the Yahoo CEO.

So instead of calling her out for daring to be bold, we should remind ourselves we are indeed in the 21^st century now where a woman’s uterus is no longer what defines her. And we should pat her on the back. Not write a commentary on whether or not she will be able to fully bond with her child if she works on maternity leave.

Because coming from a person who has been there, done that, and got the t-shirt, her choice to work, whenever it may be, won’t be what makes her a good or bad mother.

My daughter, at 3 years old, is my best friend. And no, not just because I have to love her because she’s mine, but because she makes me laugh. She makes me smile. She’s who I want to see when I get up and go to bed. And she’s who I want to share every experience with. If I’m crying, which I try to limit as much as possible, I really only want her to be there to see it. She knows when mom has to work. She can tell the difference between my fun flats and the professional pumps I slip on when I mean business. And when she’s much older, I can only hope that the work I put in when I do get to be home will inspire her to chase whatever person she hopes to be. That’s all any mother, stay at home or not, can do.

So cheers Marissa, I’ll sip a congratulatory glass for you…since you’re only going to get to break open the sparkling grape juice.

 

Image from: http://www.ohfish.in/ex-google-yahoo-ceo-marissa-mayer-pregnant-photo/

Facebook Conversations

comments