Stormy Weather: On Work, Pregnancy, and a Dose of Reality

I’ve had a rough couple of weeks, so picking up my metaphorical pen has been hard, but I’ve committed to this endeavor of sharing my story in order to help women (and others) feel less alone. I can’t accomplish what I set out to accomplish if I contradict myself and choose not to write during the storms.

Without getting into the nitty gritty of why, the driver of this recent storm has mostly been work stress, self-doubt, and frustration. Work stress is a constant, but some weeks are tougher than others, and adding pregnancy to it makes it all seem overwhelming at times.

My doctor has always operated on the side of caution. In the early stages of my pregnancy, before I could feel her move, I had no idea what baby was doing in there. I had no way of knowing if her developing limbs were still waving around, if her heart was still beating, if she had gotten into drugs – I just didn’t know. Sitting in the waiting room, waiting to see if they’d find a heartbeat this month (and catastrophizing myself into a spiral of how I’d process the loss if there wasn’t a heartbeat) elevated my anxiety levels pretty significantly. Anxiety, in turn, elevated my blood pressure.

So, very early on I was classified as “high blood pressure.” I knew it was mostly due to anxiety, and I told my doctor as much, but her job is to protect the health of me and my baby, so she’s taken preventative measures against hypertension with me from the beginning. Additionally, at our 20-week anatomy scan, they diagnosed a Single Umbilical Artery which is an abnormality. Women with this abnormality are officially classified as high-risk pregnancies, so she referred me to a high-risk doctor in Panorama City who I see once a month in conjunction with my regular checkups.

I will probably dedicate an entire blog in the future to the SUA thing, but I should say this here so as not to cause unnecessary alarm: as far as high-risk abnormalities go, SUA is on the lower end of the spectrum. Most SUA babies are born perfectly healthy – and so far, Charlie is perfectly healthy.

That being said, between the high blood pressure and the SUA, my doctor is very cautious with her recommendations.

How does all of this tie into work? Well, for the longest time, my plan was to work up until Christmas and go on maternity leave two weeks before our due date. At our appointment two weeks ago, my doctor told me that she actually wants me to go on leave at 36 weeks, two weeks earlier than I’d been planning. That’s two weeks less time to get work done that I need to get done and to make sure my team is set up to function effectively when I’m gone.

Additionally, my doctor wanted me to start Non-Stress Tests, which is something most women don’t start until 37-38 weeks, and I was only 32. NSTs, as I learned during my first one on Monday, are about hour-long sessions in which two monitors are strapped onto your belly as a machine measures for baby’s heartbeats and contractions, and you’re given a Jeopardy clicker to click every time you feel baby move.

I have to do this twice a week…. In addition to my regular checkups, which my doctor now wants me to have once a week…. In addition to my high-risk appointments. I pay rent to Kaiser now.

The fact that I go on leave sooner than expected, paired with the reality that I’m going to have to miss more work than expected due to doctor’s appointments, on top of things that came up at work throughout the last two weeks that have caused pretty intense feelings of failure, defeat, and frustration: stress has been high.

On the plus side, it does make me think that doc was probably right in telling me to go on leave earlier, and I’m not about to fight her on it.

Through all of this, and outside of it too, I’ve been thinking a lot about how difficult it’s going to be to come back to work after leave – how difficult it probably has been for women who came before me and how difficult it will be for women who come after me. Hell, even men can relate to this.

We spend so much of our time at work, and it can get depressing to think about if you really devote your mind to it (as I do, as I do), and it gets worse when you add children to the mix. Charlie is only going to be my baby for so long, and I’d hate look back when I’m older and be confronted by all the things I missed out on.

My sister, a teacher, has very graciously and excitedly offered to take my children over summer breaks, and as happy as it makes me, it also makes me profoundly sad. To think about my kids making memories of beach trips, pool parties, and other summer adventures that I won’t be part of is hard to swallow.

At the same time, I don’t think I could ever be a stay at home mom. I’m too ambitious of a person and need an outlet for that ambition, and also, I want to be an example to my daughter that a woman can work just as hard and be just as intelligent and successful as any man can be.

(Important aside: I recognize that being a stay at home mom *is* hard work, and I have nothing but respect for women who do choose that path.)

Plus, even if I wanted to stay home with her, I don’t currently have the option. With Sean in school, we’re currently financially reliant on my income – and even when he does finish school and get a job, as we know all too well right now, you can’t exactly thrive in Santa Clarita/California on a single income, unless said income is insanely high.

So return to work I will, and the thought looms overhead like a dark cloud in the distance that you just know is going to be a rough storm when it reaches you. That cloud darkened just a little bit more these last two weeks.

But. It’s my birthday. And storms pass.

“Waves roll in and off they go.” – Atticus