From here to maternity…

If you’re a female of a certain age and working in banking, you’ll appreciate that at a variable point in your thirties (round about early- to mid-) your career track and biological clock mysteriously start working against each other.

In spite of all the marvellous ‘returner’ programs and flexi-deals, if you’re brave enough to make an early return to your career after giving birth, you’re quite likely to slip down a grade or several, and find yourself sidelined into less exciting, less profitable areas of the business.

It doesn’t happen to the men – for the most part – because they’re very often cushioned in their home lives by that marvellous invention: the live-in domestic goddess.

No. It isn’t fair. Yes, it happens all the time. So what can you do to avoid this particular Pink Ghetto?

Planning:

No, you can’t possibly know how you’ll react to red-faced howling or angelic gurgling offspring until you’ve given birth. But you can make plans for your return to work, making some sensible assumptions:

• You may not be able to do the same previous long hours on a regular basis, but you definitely mean to get the work done however strange your waking hours become;
• Presence in the office is preferable, but you’d quite like the flexibility of working from home if this isn’t going to be achievable on occasion, even if only short-term;
• You’re a professional: you will make use of your time in the best way possible, so you’d appreciate some trust from your managers/colleagues;
• In the early months, you will be more tired than you ever were before, so will have to pace yourself;
• Put a time limit on all this. You won’t be allowed back ‘in’ if you extend it beyond about a month to six weeks (so you get your childcare sorted out asap).

Practicality:

If you or your significant other get the call from the childcare people that Junior has a fever, it will very likely be you having to escape the office, unless you are spectacularly lucky with a) your other half or b) your support network of friends, aunts, sisters, cousins, whoever.

Try to limit these escapades if you don’t want to alienate your colleagues, who will grudge having to cover for you if it happens more than once every six weeks…Best answer is really (really) good childcare. Worth every dollar/pound/shekel/euro. Also rarer than hen’s teeth, but it’s your best option.

Perseverance:

Things have got a whole lot better in the last generation. You owe it to yourself, and to your children if you want to be a positive career role model, to make sure that parenthood isn’t the death knell of your career, so don’t stop chewing that carpet about promotion and pink ghettoes, keep on quietly pushing for recognition and approbation where they’re merited; don’t forget to sing your own praises about how fantastic a job it is you’re doing (with no reference to your Motherhood status, because, well, the men don’t have to refer to being fathers, do they?).

A sense of humor:

When the day dawns where a businessman is described as ‘father of four’ (or three, or two, or whatever), Utopia will have been achieved. Until then, if you’re called Supermummy and your fecund status is a talking point, aim for a little amused cynicism. It’s far more powerful than anger or irritation.

Lastly, some hope from unexpected quarters?

Fathers should have up to three years’ paternity leave. So say wised-up wonks in the UK’s Conservative Party’s ’Quality of Life’ policy review according to details leaked today in the UK Evening Standard.

I know. I don’t believe it’ll ever happen either.