Back in the Game
Today, I’m the strongest I’ve been since the first trimester of my pregnancy, which was over two years ago. I’m getting regular sleep again, I’m eating well (pretty well), and I’m getting the occasional power walk in there with Clara strapped to my back in the Ergo Baby Carrier. I’m feeling successful now that all the hard work I’ve put into sales in the last three months is paying off. I have the most fabulous problem of them all--so much work that I get to bring in new talent, something my Creative Director, Lara, and I have both been itching to do for a while now, if only for the chance to mix it up, which is so important to the vitality of a creative shop.
Last night I had something of a “coming out” experience. I mean, in the debutante way. I went to a networking event for advertising people where I met up with some colleagues that I hadn’t seen since the summer of 2003. That’s when I stopped going to these mixers because I was tired of people ogling my giant, pregnant belly and asking me, skeptically, what I was going to do with my company after the baby was born.
It felt so good to speak honestly with these people about what the past two years have been like for me, how the challenges we all face as members of the creative services industry mean something so different to me now since I became a working mother. And, of course, the best part was being able to say, for better or for worse, I did it. I made it through this year of unprecedented transition with its sleepless nights, pumping milk five times a day, having my available productive hours cut by a third, and navigating the unpredictable waters of employee and client relationships. And it was worth it. There was a time when I wasn’t sure I’d get to say that.
But really, the best part of last night was the brainstorming for projects I did with the new people I’ve met in the last few months as I’ve slowly re-entered the networking game. Until this past February I didn’t have the bandwidth to get out of the office. And I simply wasn’t willing to be away from my baby in the evenings.
Now I’ve joined a board, am about to be appointed to another, and I’ve been taking every opportunity to go to coffee or lunch or cocktails that I can. I’m am once again the Queen of Networking. I’m transitioning from maintaining what I’ve got to creating new opportunities.
I walked out of that bar bubbling over with so much creative energy I had to call my husband on my cell and babble at him until I could breath normally again.
I feel like I can finally tackle the long list of ambitions that has been languishing, painfully, for the last year. But there is a lingering fear that’s keeping me from moving forward with complete confidence. One part of me feels like I can take on the world and do it all. Another part of me thinks I’m just one unplanned, unscheduled disaster from it all falling apart: a sick kid, a sick me, childcare problems, car problems, my dad’s cancer coming back full force. It could be anything, from the simple and expected to something catastrophic (it could even be something really good!), and everything would fall into chaos.
This is one of those moments when I have to call on my lessons learned from my experience of preparing for my own maternity leave while my company was exploding with success. I know the biggest risk to my career, and my sanity, is being overcommitted. And I know that it is one of the easiest situations to avoid.
The first step is to know what are my goals. The next is to prioritize commitments and if something doesn’t directly map back to a goal I simply say no. It was actually very easy to say when I was pregnant as my energy slowly turned inward. Now that I have much of my bandwidth back it’s harder to keep from jumping into every juicy opportunity that comes along. But I know that my biggest responsibility to my family and to my company—and myself--is making sure my ambitious eyes aren’t bigger than the commitments I can stomach.
Last night I had something of a “coming out” experience. I mean, in the debutante way. I went to a networking event for advertising people where I met up with some colleagues that I hadn’t seen since the summer of 2003. That’s when I stopped going to these mixers because I was tired of people ogling my giant, pregnant belly and asking me, skeptically, what I was going to do with my company after the baby was born.
It felt so good to speak honestly with these people about what the past two years have been like for me, how the challenges we all face as members of the creative services industry mean something so different to me now since I became a working mother. And, of course, the best part was being able to say, for better or for worse, I did it. I made it through this year of unprecedented transition with its sleepless nights, pumping milk five times a day, having my available productive hours cut by a third, and navigating the unpredictable waters of employee and client relationships. And it was worth it. There was a time when I wasn’t sure I’d get to say that.
But really, the best part of last night was the brainstorming for projects I did with the new people I’ve met in the last few months as I’ve slowly re-entered the networking game. Until this past February I didn’t have the bandwidth to get out of the office. And I simply wasn’t willing to be away from my baby in the evenings.
Now I’ve joined a board, am about to be appointed to another, and I’ve been taking every opportunity to go to coffee or lunch or cocktails that I can. I’m am once again the Queen of Networking. I’m transitioning from maintaining what I’ve got to creating new opportunities.
I walked out of that bar bubbling over with so much creative energy I had to call my husband on my cell and babble at him until I could breath normally again.
I feel like I can finally tackle the long list of ambitions that has been languishing, painfully, for the last year. But there is a lingering fear that’s keeping me from moving forward with complete confidence. One part of me feels like I can take on the world and do it all. Another part of me thinks I’m just one unplanned, unscheduled disaster from it all falling apart: a sick kid, a sick me, childcare problems, car problems, my dad’s cancer coming back full force. It could be anything, from the simple and expected to something catastrophic (it could even be something really good!), and everything would fall into chaos.
This is one of those moments when I have to call on my lessons learned from my experience of preparing for my own maternity leave while my company was exploding with success. I know the biggest risk to my career, and my sanity, is being overcommitted. And I know that it is one of the easiest situations to avoid.
The first step is to know what are my goals. The next is to prioritize commitments and if something doesn’t directly map back to a goal I simply say no. It was actually very easy to say when I was pregnant as my energy slowly turned inward. Now that I have much of my bandwidth back it’s harder to keep from jumping into every juicy opportunity that comes along. But I know that my biggest responsibility to my family and to my company—and myself--is making sure my ambitious eyes aren’t bigger than the commitments I can stomach.
posted by Katherine Gray @ 7:17 PM
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