A Rock in the River

I am like a rock in the middle of a swift moving river.

I don't particularly enjoy change. I get comfortable in one place. Things around me can be in constant transition, but I don't usually mind. I'm settled.

But today I made a difficult decision. I'm leaving the branch I've worked at for the last three and a half years and moving to the Roy branch. I don't love this job and always told myself that if I was going to make the effort to move, I would make it worth my while and change companies, maybe do something I really enjoy. Or, I'd just quit completely and rely solely on my photography and writing as my means of income. But instead of focusing on my possible paths to career success I chose to have a baby.

That decision made it inevitable that I would stay at Wells Fargo. Keaton's job doesn't currently come with benefits, and I can maintain our health insurance at Wells Fargo by working only 18 hours. I knew that if I had a baby, I would not want to work full time. And if I went anywhere else, no matter if in a more favored field or with a more desirable salary, it was unlikely that I would find the words "part-time" and "benefits" in the same sentence together.

When I got pregnant, however, I was happy with my job and didn't mind the prospect of sticking around for a while. Both my service manager and store manager were easygoing and fun. I felt like a valued member of a team. In April, however, when I was about three or four months pregnant, the store manager got moved to a different branch and the service manager went to work for another bank. Not a huge problem, things had changed like that before. The river is constantly moving...I just watch it go by.

Even when I hit some troubled waters, even when my new managers and I didn't "click" I still kept on, just biding my time until my maternity leave, when I could get a break. It was okay...I'd told both my new managers in June that I planned to go part-time when my baby was born. Even though we didn't see eye to eye on a lot of things, I didn't think twice about it. They tweak schedules all the time, why should I be any different?

Right before Jamison was born I was regretfully informed that I would be needed for 25 hours when I returned from maternity. Apparently six months is not enough time to shave more than five hours off of a person's schedule. At that time I should have stuck in my heels and insist I get 18, but I didn't. I just wanted to have my baby, not argue about what it might be like when I came back. It seemed worlds away, so I decided to wait before I made a huge fuss about it. A lot can change in three months, right? I figured by then they would be able to work it out for me.

Then I had my baby, and my complacency turned to urgency. It wasn't just about 18 hours of work a week vs 25 hours, it was a question of how on earth I would ever be able to leave my baby for any amount of time at all. (Carolanne was the recipient of many a tearful phone call, when I still had months to go before I had to worry about it.) Moms are supposed to stay home with their babies, right? That is the natural order.

But when I'm being realistic, it isn't in the cards. We need health insurance. We need that little bit of extra money. I'm going back to work for my family, not in spite of them. I had to come to terms with that fact.

But as I've been preparing to return to work, it became very apparent that there is no negotiating the 25 hours. I was told in no uncertain terms that if I wanted less than that I would have to go somewhere else. They would rather start over with someone else than work me one less shift. I know, I don't get it either. So I sucked in a breath and didn't argue. There seemed to be no other choice.

Then a position opened up at the Roy branch for 18 hours. I applied for it, first thinking that for sure they would have to give in now. They wouldn't really want to lose me. But all I got in response to my disclosing that I had applied elsewhere was a "keep us informed."

What?

But still, I held out hope that this could serve as some sort of bargaining chip. Eventually, they would have to give in. I could stay in my easy world and still get what I wanted. I had an interview arranged, and I went to it this afternoon. They offered me the job.

I didn't accept it, not right away.

Instead, I went home and cried. I was finally at a crossroads. I absolutely, positively DID NOT want to leave my branch. I've spent three years there. The customers know me. They ask about me and my baby. They sent me cute presents for him. I know their names and their stories. I also have friends in my other coworkers there. I have inside jokes with them. I take their family's pictures. I empathize with them, and they listen to me. They indulge my disorganization and forgetfulness. They let me vent when something bugs me. I don't want to leave, even if it means working a few extra hours a week.

After my interview I came home and held my baby. He'd been a little bit fussy while I was gone, and so I rocked and fed him, then he fell asleep curled up against my chest, his face snuggled into the crook of my neck. I started to wish to myself that I didn't have to go back to work at all. He needs me.

And thats when I realized--I do have to go back, there is no getting around that. But I need to get over myself. I can't have it my way. If by giving up my comfortable spot, planted firmly in the middle of the river, I can give myself an extra seven hours a week with my baby, I have to do it. I'll miss my friends at Syracuse, but I'm doing this for Jamison.

So I accepted the position. Yep, its the same company. Yep, I'll be doing the same thing day in and day out...but it was still a very hard decision to make. Because I don't like change. I like easy.

But I'm a mom now.