‘I used to be a lawyer and now I am a mum. I don’t know how to be both.’

For ten years, I was a lawyer. I wore great pencil dresses, killer heels, went to court a lot and occasionally cried under my desk. I suspect, like a lot of people, I crafted a good deal of my identity around my career.

But now I have had a baby and I am wrestling with the same question that so many have before me – who am I now that I am a mum?

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Truthfully, I found the early days of motherhood pretty manageable.

I was blessed with both a baby that slept, and a husband who could take a significant amount of parental leave. In the early days, my son was pretty portable. We would just pop him in the capsule or the carrier and go about our lives, making smug but naïve comments about how the baby was going to fit into our lives and not the other way around.

But now he is bigger, more distractible and more in need of the consistency and stability that doesn’t exactly mesh with the pre-kid lifestyle of two inner-city professionals.

Gone are the weekly dinners with friends that lasted as long as the wine did. And although nothing has ever brought me as much joy as being butler to this tiny human, I would be lying if I said there wasn’t a small pang as I close the front door behind me, leaving early to take him home to bed, whilst my friends' laughter continues on the other side without me.

Gone are the spontaneous netball games and trips to the gym – the small human doesn’t care so much for being confined to a pram on the sidelines.

I know I am not the friend I once was. 

Never particularly good at responding to text messages in a timely manner, they now sit unanswered in my inbox until my friends (true angels, all of them) cheerfully text for the fourth time in a row when I can reply. 

On the rare occasion I see people in person, I carry on half conversations whilst keeping an ear out for signs that the small human is choking on the crust of fruit toast I gave to keep him occupied for 45 seconds.

I am not the daughter, sister or cousin I once was. I forget birthdays and cancel plans at short notice because one or both of us is tired or sick. The only text messages I do seem to send are videos of my child accompanied by a frantic, “IS THIS NORMAL OR DO I NEED TO TAKE HIM TO HOSPITAL”.

I’m not the partner I once was either. 

Although I feel parenthood has brought us closer, there is a twinge of guilt when he gets home from work and I immediately pass him the baby and fall asleep on the couch, or retreat to the bedroom to scroll TikTok in blissful silence without being touched.

And then there’s work. What does work look like now? Does it look like still going for that promotion I desperately want and truly feel I deserve? Does it look like pausing career ambition for now until he’s bigger and I have this all bit more figured out? But will there ever actually be a time when I have this "figured out"? And if there is, what if it takes too long and I am behind the eight ball and that first ten years of blood sweat and tears are effectively wasted?

Or does work now look like totally pivoting away from law and leaning into things with more flexibility – writing and teaching Pilates? What will the Governor of the Reserve Bank have to say about that?

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A friend of mine nailed it by saying that parenting is wanting two (or more) completely opposite and incompatible things at the exact same time. I want to be with my son every second of every day. I want some time to myself. I want my days filled with friends and family like they used to be. 

I want to be able to stress-eat a packet of Tim Tams every week and still fit in my pre-pregnancy jeans. I want to be able to work and achieve my goals and I do not want to hear that I cannot do all of these things at the same time.

I suppose there is no right answer. 

I have been tying myself up in knots trying to work out the exact combination of when to return to work, in what capacity and number of work days/daycare days/grandparent days that will mean I am fulfilled, my son is thriving and the mortgage is paid.

But truthfully, whatever decision we make will have consequences, good and bad. We will just have to roll with the punches and figure it out as we go.

Author Elizabeth Olds is a full-time lawyer, part time Christmas movie reviewer (not really, but if you build it they will come, right?). She's currently a tiny person's snack bitch.

Feature Image: Supplied.

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