M otherhood Before Maternity Leave & a New Evolutionary Twist

I remember what it was like to be a working mother when the concept of maternity leave was very foreign. It still has a ways to go for many working women, including leave with pay, but this is a glimpse into the matter back in 1980.

I was an Assistant Professor in the School of Social Welfare at UCLA. In August, I gave birth to my second child and was expected to start the new quarter in just six weeks. Not only was there no maternity

And so began the new routine: up at 5:30 to ready my infant and five-year-old for the day; load the car with my books and papers, baby buggy and all the infant needs for the day; drop my five-year-old at his Montessori school; drive five miles to work; park across campus; load the baby buggy with his equipment and my work materials; then strap the baby to my chest and walk across campus to my office. On mornings when I had to be in the classroom, I’d pick up the older woman who stayed leave, but neither did the university stop the tenure clock which kept ticking away the time remaining to keep my job, income we needed to also keep our house. Putting my infant son in daycare was not an option.Not only did he refuse any type of container other than Mom for his feeding, but even more pressing, he had a dangerous respiratory problem. He had an incident that resembled SIDS enough to put him on an apnea monitor when he slept. I was not about to leave my baby behind and go to work.

To the rescue came the kind and forward-looking Dean of our School. Because I had my own office, he said I was welcome to bring my baby to work with me. “Besides,” he said, “your office is in the middle of the offices for the Child Welfare Training Grant, wouldn’t it be hypocritical to do otherwise.” with the baby in my office. During the ten minute class break, I’d dash to my office, nurse the baby, then return to finish teaching.

Fortunately, my son was a smiley, happy baby, even with his respiratory problems. And so, students took turns holding him as we worked in groups in my office on their Master’s Thesis, and one student and I even nursed our babies in tandem as we worked on hers. Faculty and office staff “borrowed” Daniel to sit on their laps and play for a short break from their daily routine. As he developed childhood asthma, I could monitor his breathing and medication regimen in a safe environment, with a hospital across campus,which, thankfully, I never needed to use.

At the end of the year, my Dean recognized that the arrangement would not work with a rambunctious toddler. Again, as the social worker he had always been, he granted me the sabbatical for which I had earned enough teaching credits and helped me apply for a grant which gave me two additional quarters off, in total, a year at full salary to work at home with my young son.

For the rest of my teaching career, my sons were welcomed at the workplace. Daniel’s con tinued asthma episodes had him at work with me whenever he was recuperating and needed monitor ing and medication. Students became accustomed to seeing Daniel playing on the floor with his cars in the back of the classroom while I stood teaching at the front of the room. On one occasion, when my students hesitated, this very bright seven-year-old stood up and correctly answered a question I had posed to see if they understood the principle I had just illustrated.

Over the years, numerous students commented on how important it was to see me bring my children to work to help them realize that working and motherhood were not incompatible, that childrens’ welfare comes first, and that children should be welcome in all types of environments. However, I recognize how fortunate I was in contrast to mothers who had no options other than to quit work or leave their infants, and then only if child care were available, and that even today many working mothers have few positive options. Although there has been some progress, our society is still wanting when it comes to making the welfare of children foremost in its priorities.

I have thought about how evolution could have solved the problem. How different and less complicated our lives would be if we had descended from marsupials instead of primates. Bondingwould begin with the first sight of the inch-long human scooting its way into mother’s pouch. No more expensive medical equipment or complicated medical procedures would be needed; human marsupial medical teams would just need to peek into the pouch.

No more baby carriers and strollers, no more arsenal of baby equipment, Mom’s built-in carrier would replace them all. But this new evolutionary twist would ultimately be valuable to women only if men also evolved pouches for carrying their young: pouches for bonding and caretaking, for keeping in shape or accepting as enhanced by use, pouches recognized by the species as a place for the young whether the adult carrier be at home, in a restaurant, or in a board room.

If nurseries were a mobile part of the human anatomy, perhaps the issue of childcare would never have developed, because the answer would be built-in. ◆◆◆