It’s no secret that when you become a parent, a massive shift in identity occurs.
My whole world had changed, and no matter how much I had prepared for it, I could never truly understand until it happened. Suddenly, you can’t take a shower without announcing it.
When that identity shift for me came with a layoff, I had to reorder my entire life twice within a span of a few months.
I was laid off months after coming back to work
I gave birth, and 12 weeks later, I came back to work. A couple of months after my return, I was told my position would no longer be funded at the end of the year. I had three months’ notice to find work during the holiday season and an election, but wasn’t able to secure a new gig.
I celebrated the new year knowing that I had no idea what would come next. Still, I remained hopeful. It’s been almost a year, and I’m still searching for full-time employment.
For many people, jobs are just a means to pay the rent, which is a valid and healthy perspective on employment. But my parents are both people whose careers held a lot of personal meaning for them and made up part of their sense of identity, so I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I sought out work that gave me a sense of purpose as well.
I always saw myself as a working parent
When I envisioned myself as a parent, even before I had decided it was right for me, I saw myself as a working parent. There was never a part of that dream that allowed for a version of me that didn’t have the financial stability and identity that my work gave me. My mom always emphasized, as well as modeled, financial stability and independence for me, and so did other women in my life who parented their kids as single moms.
Work allowed me a clear way to see my contribution to the home. I made a higher income than my spouse. Finances were still tight, as they are for so many families, but I knew that even on a day when I didn’t do as much laundry as I planned, I still earned a paycheck to help us pay the rent and afford diapers.
Courtesy of the author
Now I have to recalibrate my identity outside and as part of my relationship to my child. I can’t afford childcare again until I have full-time employment, and although I earn freelance payments, they’re not enough to cover the vast majority of our needs.
There’s value in my unpaid work, too
I choose to understand and value the unpaid work I do as a parent who is home with my toddler most days, even if society largely doesn’t, both financially and socially.
I can’t define myself by my smaller paychecks. When I show my child how to say certain words or encourage imaginative play, I’m doing something important for my family. My household labor is essentially 24/7 and allows my spouse to do their paid labor.
My days are packed with work as a stay-at-home parent, which I didn’t fully understand about stay-at-home parents’ days before I experienced them. The mental load of fulfilling and adapting to your child’s ever-changing needs, while managing housework, freelancing, and searching for full-time employment, is enormous.
My spouse is a very involved and loving dad, but the practical reality is that I’m the person our kid sees most, and certain responsibilities have fallen to me as a result. We care about resisting strict gender roles in our family, but circumstances have made it so that we have to work extra hard not to fall too deeply into them.
I have flexibility, but sometimes feel isolated
Then there is the fact of social isolation. I have to work even harder to find social interactions with adults outside my home. Occasionally, I reach out to parent groups, attend a library story time, or prioritize asking my mother-in-law to watch my toddler so I can get some time away to see friends or try to make new ones. It isn’t always enough, but it helps me keep a sense of self, and it gives my child other people, and sometimes kids, to develop strong bonds with, which is good for them.
Of course, my life isn’t all strain and struggle. I have more flexibility to take my toddler to the dentist and play fun games with them between naps. All of those things are magical experiences, and I know that whatever comes next, I’ll look back on this time and cherish the memories I shared with them while they were so young. However, I still want my child to know me as someone who loves them dearly but is also independent, with hobbies and a career, so that they understand that such a life is possible for them.
As a family, we will continue to find ways to see beauty and community in life, despite hardship, and value each other’s labor, whether paid or unpaid, and be empathetic toward one another. I also value the work of stay-at-home parents more than ever, and I wish I had understood the load they carry much sooner in life. These lessons will be valuable for me even when financial circumstances — hopefully — change.
