Monday 14 July 2008

Maternity benefits should pay attention to biology

Last week poor Zoe Williams lost her mojo amid a post-natal hormonal fug (see Guardian G2, Friday 11 July); this week Sarah Veal (TUC) and Sylvia Tidy-Harris (www.womenspeakers.co.uk) have ferociously debated the merits (or otherwise) of employing women of child-bearing age - not once, but twice… in one morning (on Woman's Hour, then on the Jeremy Vine show).

Yes, motherhood is top of the news agenda … again.

Ms T-H is an employer who says she won't employ women of child-bearing* age…
Hmm … I wonder how she'd react if an employee of hers discovered they were ill? What if (heaven forbid) they contracted cancer and had to take 6 months off to undergo surgery and recover from chemotherapy?

Those who complain about new legal provisions to protect their employees might do better to go back to their offices and do a bit of 'forward planning'. Employees are not bound to stick with an employer for ever - women of child-bearing age are just as likely to go out and find a new job (with better terms and conditions!), as they are to get pregnant. Nothing in life is predictable...

Sensible employers do understand that having a baby is a life-changing experience, and offer as much support as possible. But for all the maternity leave, childcare vouchers, and flexible working hours, the one thing that's not often on offer to new mothers is a 'good ear' to help returners talk through their problems.

I was lucky to work for an employer who offered excellent support for its female employees - including an on-site crĂȘche. Nevertheless, three of us who worked in one division - and who all became pregnant with our first babies within a short 'window' (arousing comments like "There must be something in the water round here...") - all left once we had served enough time to avoid having to pay back our maternity pay.

Why?

In my own case, I'm pretty certain it was a question of hormones.

I took the full amount of maternity leave, going back to work when my baby was seven months old. In that short time my life had changed completely - not just a new baby, but a new (and as we later discovered, unsuitable) home as well. (Oh, and I almost forgot - recovering from emergency surgery!) Plunging back into the office, even on reduced hours, was another massive upheaval.

Even just the simple change of routine to get to work took some coping with. Where once I could have woken up, dress, breakfasted and been on the road to work in around 60 minutes, now I had a whole new list of things to do before I could step out of the house - wake, feed, dress baby; pack bag for nursery; mop up sick; change baby's nappy (again), change me (smudges on suit). [No need to explain further - this is a common scenario for all mothers, whether they're going out to work or just a basic shopping trip or school run.]

I was very lucky that my baby thrived at nursery, though quickly picked up the usual assortment of childhood bugs, which meant time off work. Despite my employer's flexible attitude I didn't feel that I was doing either job (employee; mum) justice.

I didn't sit around staring at my PC wondering what my baby was doing, but my brain definitely wasn't in gear either at home or at work.

The idea of working at home was therefore appealing; crucially, I wouldn't have to be at a certain place at a certain time. And as I had always had the idea of working for myself in the back of my mind, it seemed - at the time - like a logical thing to do.

What I hadn't thought through, though, was the the many benefits I have lost by taking this route: job security, career progression, and the biggie - a decent pension. And my employer lost a member of staff with more than five years' service, who they'd only recently sponsored through a post-graduate diploma.

When I handed in my notice, with baby's first birthday approaching, no one questioned my decision; not family, not friends, not my employer. Everyone just assumed I was a grown up and I'd made a grown-up decision.

What no one had factored into the equation was that I was still breastfeeding (just) and even if I hadn't been, I would still have been, like Zoe Williams, in the post-natal hormone fug. A few more months and I might have made a totally different decision.

So I applaud any efforts to extend the maternity leave period. Surely it's better for employers to mark a little more time waiting for their familiar, trained and refreshed female employees to return to work, than to hurry them back when they're still struggling to get a grip on their new life status, and their biology is working against them?

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that all new mothers should be forced to stay at home, but I do think there should be greater consideration given not just for the obvious outward signs of new-motherdom, but for what's happening on the inside.

Interestingly, a quick Internet search for scientific studies of female hormones after birth draws lots of articles about post-natal depression, but nothing at all on general issues of hormonal changes. [Not surprising, as a lot of medical research is geared up to developing drugs to cure 'illness', rather than understanding perfectly natural phenomenon.] Wikipedia says that in some East Asian countries: "... confinement traditionally lasts 30 days, although regional variants may last 40, 60 or as many as 100 days".
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* She's currently 'representing' one Katie Hopkins, the scourge of last year's Apprentice who kept her own maternal status a secret until she reached the show's finale. Nuff said?

1 comment:

ms_well.words said...

Tim Lott (author) talking on last week's Woman's Hour (Radio 4; Saturday 19th July) came up with a novel idea:

…give men and women equal rights to maternity/paternity leave; that way employers wouldn't be able to discriminate against women of childbearing age.

He did acknowledge that some women might not want to 'give up' their privileged position as primary carer, but overall, an interesting idea…