Dear Work: I’m Not Coming Back from Maternity Leave

A few weeks ago, I received this message from a precious fellow mama I’ve known since we were both little girls, and who now reads my blog:

Hi Stephanie! I have a funny question to ask you. I know you were planning on returning to work after Emerson was born, but then you decided to stay home after all. I’m curious how you told your boss? I feel like staying home is what God has for me now. But I’m TERRIFIED of telling my boss! I can’t seem to muster up the words to quit. I’m so worried about letting everyone at my work down. Maybe this seems silly, but I thought I’d ask you—maybe you have some tips? Anyways, thanks in advance!

First of all, NOT SILLY at all! The intersection of kids and career is one of the big crossroads we women reach. Secondly, I’m truly so honored that my old friend messaged me, as if I have anything revolutionary to say. But in truth, revolutionary or not, I do have a LOT to say about this. The whole experience of quitting my job to stay home has changed me in ways of self-discovery, truth and bravery that I never could have foreseen.

Harder than breakups, harder than call-outs, harder than revealing no-good terrible news to a precious loved one, one of my life’s hardest conversations was telling my former manager that I wouldn’t be returning from maternity leave. For me, that conversation required a tremendous amount of prayer, practice, courage, faith, and diligence in actual follow-through. Right up until I heard myself speaking the words, I thought I might say, “Here’s my return date! And how did that pitch go? I MISS YOU GUYS!”

I don’t know if it’s like that for all women. Maybe some mamas, presented with the opportunity to stay home, can’t give their notice fast enough or with sufficient unbridled excitement. Maybe they can’t wait to run away happily after four months’ paid leave, knowing they’re free at last. Not so for me. At the time, my descriptors for the whole situation were: bittersweet, difficult, weird. It felt a lot like breaking up with an old boyfriend I still loved very much, but whom I had to let go of in order to fully embrace the new, greater love who I knew held the rest of my future, and irrevocably now, my heart.

What made it so hard? To name a few highlights…

Identity. Who was this new woman with an unrecognizable body, and gaping afternoons to fill with cooing and playing and trying not to go insane? I wasn’t sure. But I still felt somewhat in touch with (though increasingly distant from) the career gal in skirts with creative ideas, a few degrees, and a pretty outstanding work ethic. Could I really leave her behind to embrace this imposter now called a mom??!!!

Relationships. Anyone who’s ever worked full-time knows you spend a LOT of time with your co-workers. They were all I knew at the time in terms of day-to-day interaction. They had become some of my greatest friends if not pretty much like family—and this was key: I did not want to let them down. Was it really time to abandon that circle of love for this new life, my actual family?

Purpose. Strategic writing, hard deadlines, won deals, new revenue. These made sense to me in terms of purpose. Tangible, good-old-fashioned, intelligent things to accomplish. Trying to get my newborn on a sleep schedule? Dealing with her public blow-outs? Scheduling mom dates with strangers? No, no, no, that is not purpose, that is momentary insanity.

In a little, I’ll get to discussing how over-the-moon, confident, in love with my decision I am, today. But at the time, it was tough. I felt deeply that staying home was my calling—I knew this to be true without doubt. But if something is calling you to, it is calling you also away. I simply had to leave the old thing to fully embrace the new.

So, advice! What did I say? How did I say it? How did I find the courage to tell my boss? Do I have any tips?

They are humble, they are simple, they are haphazard, but I do have some words on the topic. They worked really wonderfully for me. These are the tips I gave to my friend (more or less), which I’m so happy to share with you:

1.  You might be nervous; you might be terrified. That is simply OK. If a conversation is going to alter the course of your life, you should feel the weight of the choice. Heart racing, stomach dropping, voice shaking, tears falling: these are normal human reactions, and don’t let anyone shame you out of them. Plus, your hormones are still raging, so you REALLY get a pass on this one. I remember so clearly where I was when I called my boss—on a walk on a peaceful spring day. Peaceful except for my inner apocalypse! Deep breaths in through your nose, out through your mouth, are helpful. But don’t hate yourself if you choke. Just keep talking and know that it’s going to be over soon.

2.  Plan ahead of time exactly what you plan to say. This sounds lame, but I totally rehearsed what I wanted to tell my boss. I wrote it out first, and then practiced it. More than once. This helped settle my nerves (somewhat) and ensured that I wouldn’t forget anything important, like, oh, the fact that I was not coming back. Practice makes perfect sense. I said something to the tune of: “This decision has been so tremendously difficult for me, but I’ve done a lot of thinking and spent a lot of time evaluating what’s best for our family over the past few months. With Doug’s job, it recently became possible for me to stay home with Emerson instead of return to work, so I’ve decided that I won’t be coming back at the end of my leave. I wanted to give you a few weeks’ notice so you have enough time to replace me. I’m going to miss you guys so much!”

3.  Time it right. Timing of the conversation depends entirely on your situation. I had a very close, very wonderful relationship with my boss—and I knew that she wouldn’t terminate my benefits the second I broke the news. I also knew she would appreciate the heads’ up so she could start looking for my replacement. I called her about three weeks before the day we had penciled in for my day to return. However, I have former-exec/now-stay-at-home girlfriends who were in very different situations. Several had to wait until the very last day of their leave, to avoid getting axed immediately. Just be smart and sensitive with your particular timing.

4.  Own it, sister. You are AMAZING. If I could give any mom in my former heels one piece of advice, it would be this: Your decision is so BRAVE and IMPORTANT and COMMENDABLE. Don’t let your boss or your friends or society or the media or ANYONE try to make you feel less than worthy, less than whole, less than wildly successful because you’re choosing to stay home with your child. You are making a sacrifice, and that is true love. And true love is all your little baby will ever need from you.

You know what else? Working moms make endless sacrifices as well. Don’t bash them, don’t be envious of them, and don’t assume they think you made a dumb choice—they are your sisters and you are bonded by motherhood and chances are you could laugh and cry together at the drop of a hat if you both just let the walls fall down.

Also, don’t feel guilty because you were just paid to stay home with your child, and now you are peacing right out. If you have worked at the company long enough to earn the leave and your state gives you disability, it is your employment and government right to take that time with your child while being compensated. Take the time to heal, take the time to enjoy motherhood, and take the time to make the absolute best possible choice for that sweet little babe you just made.

5.  Exit with grace and gratitude. Thank your boss for the absolute privilege of being part of the team. Thank them for the opportunities, the experiences, the marks on your resume and your soul. If there’s any hint of a negative response to your choice—something I didn’t encounter, so I cannot speak from experience—be the bigger person and hold your head high. First impressions are important, but so are last impressions. You want to leave them with nothing but GREAT THINGS to say about you, because that is how we always should live. Plus, you never know if you’ll need a reference in the future; it’s best to never burn bridges.

In addition, I can’t write this post without profound and abundant praise for my former boss. I think one of the main reasons my big-bad post-maternity exit stands out to me so much—oh, apart from its bifurcating my life story into all-new terrain and changing my view of the world—is because the process just went so well. And that is largely, hugely, just majorly due to my old boss’ acceptance of my decision with infinite grace, love and support. She was my friend. She was a mentor. She helped train me and shape me. She was a fellow new mom. I went to her wedding in Lake Tahoe and she helped throw me a baby shower. We worked seamlessly together, and I loved her, and I did not want to let her down. I knew that if I stayed at the company, she would see to it that I soar at the firm, continue to increase my talents, and reach my highest potential. We could have been such a cool-mom power-duo! But my path was different. And she let me go—with professional encouragement and sisterly love. She told me she was proud of me, that she would miss me, that I was one of the most talented writers she’s ever known. We’re still friends, and I hope we always are! We might even work together again someday. I’m so grateful for the way that she handled things.

So if you, mama, are ever on the OTHER side, as a Boss, hearing a mom tell you that she’s decided to stay home, know that maybe her heart is breaking a little. And that you can make a lasting impression on her. Handle her bold-but-vulnerable choice in a way that will help her sleep like anything but a baby, because we all know babies don’t sleep. Give her peace; give her closure; give her praise. Choose words that will forever impact her view of career moms.

I want to close by fast-forwarding to today. October 2014. I’ve been a stay-at-home mom for one year and seven months. And I have never been happier. I have my days, sure. It’s straight crazy! But my identity now belongs to God. My relationships are abundant and wonderful. My purpose has never been clearer.

After not working at all for five months, a beautiful thing, I decided to give freelance writing and editing a whirl. That whirl has swirled into dozens of opportunities to continue doing what I love, while home with my daughter. I’m so grateful I could cry, and I do, often—because God knew it all along. He knew that by surrendering something so dear to my heart—my old job—I would ultimately amble into something far beyond my dreams—my new job, which involves lots of play dates, lots of Target, lots of writing at naptime, lots of editing during sports games curled up next to my husband. And I get to blog, which is just my FAVORITE! Thank you so much for reading my words. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.

Sometimes a crossroads seems like the end, when really it’s just the beginning.

And WAIT! I changed my mind. I actually want to close with this. I’m so proud of and excited for my friend:

So, I did it! And I cried in front of my boss (embarrassing!) partially because I was so nervous and partially because I felt so guilty. But he was really understanding. He said, “I think that’s a great decision.” And he was really supportive. Thanks again for the advice!