Our “Your Stories” series are submissions shared with us via email or in one-on-one interviews, for the purposes of our research and campaigns. All names have been changed (unless the use of real names was explicitly permitted by the author), and we have sought permission to publish from the authors/interviewees themselves. The opinions expressed in these posts do not represent those of AWARE.

Xin Hui: When I first stepped into the working world, I was an over-zealous greenhorn, unafraid to voice opinions. As a young woman, I was quickly promoted to be one of the youngest managers in my company.

I immersed myself fully into my career. Even while pregnant, I still put in long hours. I participated actively in committees and hauled my huge belly into construction sites to oversee the progress of my projects.

I thought I was unstoppable… until the baby came out.

Motherhood is, without a doubt, the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I was eager to prove that because I could manage teams of employees at work, I could easily add a child into the mix. But you know the phrase “sleep like a baby”? It must have been coined by a childless philosopher.

I was reluctant to ask others for help with my daughter. I took to breastfeeding to soothe her every time she cried. So by the time my maternity leave ended and I returned to work, she could only be put to sleep by being breastfed. On average, she woke up five times a night to nurse.

The extended sleep deprivation, and a mounting resentment towards my husband’s inability to help with childcare, made me very miserable. My husband, on the other hand, was discouraged by his daughter’s lack of interest in him. He parented mostly in my shadow.

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With barely five hours of disrupted sleep, my plans to reach the office on time would often be derailed by some unexplainable meltdown or a spectacular vomit incident. After finally arriving, I would multi-task between work and making endless plans—for baby care procurement, school logistics and healthcare. In between meetings, I would pump in switch rooms, toilet cubicles or prayer rooms while trying to figure out breastmilk storage.

The evenings were worse. Very often, in order to rush home on time, I would hastily conclude work meetings or excuse myself from draggy discussions. After finally putting the child to bed and packing her school bags, I would then return to my laptop to work until I dozed off.

My company did not offer flexible work arrangements. Even if it had, my management role wouldn’t have worked well with flexible arrangements, given the amount of time I had to be on ground to support operations. Also, the culture involved many (unnecessary) meetings that required everybody to be present.

My superior, who did not have children, would chide me to “get my act together” and report to work on time. I was given counselling and told that I was expected to do more. I was even reminded to check my emails and submit work on days when I took childcare leave to care for my sick child.

Eventually, my appraisal ratings fell. I hit a plateau in my career.

*

I often thought about how men balanced fatherhood and their careers.

I have always felt that the ideal co-parenting model would be an equal 50:50 split. Reality, however, is far from my dream. The stark contrast in parental leave entitlement between mothers and fathers has set the foundation for mothers to form deeper bonds with their infants while fathers are relegated to take a more passive role. Societal views too, mostly assume mothers as the main caregivers. We see child-related marketing materials mostly targeting mothers instead of fathers.

When I had to stay late at work functions, many colleagues would ask about my baby, concerned —ignoring the fact that I had a co-parent who was equally responsible for putting our child to bed. When I said that my husband was taking the kid that night, I was often given congratulations on having a hands-on partner. 

And I have never been praised for being able to tuck my child into bed without his help.

Whenever my husband and I had discussions on how he could take some loads off my shoulder, I would sense his eagerness to help but, at the same time, his dismay at his own cluelessness. We were used to seeing examples of successful men without family baggage. And conversely, horrible husbands who have no parental involvement, examples that many fathers would proudly compare themselves against before proclaiming that they themselves are much better. We very rarely hear about successful fathers who cut back on their work requirements to spend time with the family. As for examples of families with a 50:50 split in childcare responsibilities? As rare as unicorns. So the men honestly did not know how to do better.

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After one particularly stressful day, during which I snapped and yelled at my child, I became overwhelmed with guilt. I realised the words she heard most often out of me were “faster”, “come on” and “hurry” instead of “I love you”. What’s more, the things that had triggered my anger were just normal toddler behaviours. I was the one who was struggling to get my act together, and my stress had manifested in unrealistic expectations about my own child.So, after 10 years of building a name for myself in my company, I resigned.

I am fortunate enough to have a significant amount of savings and a supportive husband to rely on while I take a break from my career. The past six months have been filled with laughter, lazy mornings snuggling in bed and a renewed focus on my wellness. While my child is in school, I spend my time reading, resting, exercising and volunteering with a charity that helps disadvantaged women.

Now, I’m blessed with baby number two! The thought of a new family addition without my income worries me. But I’m looking forward to a much lower-stress pregnancy and a quicker recovery so that I can again pursue my passions beyond my home.