The Path Not Taken

By Wendy Walker

It was a step forward in the passionate journey — and one made possible by it — for educated women to say "yes" to motherhood as a conscious human purpose and not a burden imposed by the flesh.
~Betty Friedan

Most of my years as a stay-home mother have passed by me like the changing seasons. Busy days fold into one another until suddenly a child is in school or has outgrown his clothing. I stop then and look around, taking in the new and mourning the loss of the old, but then there are things to get done and I turn my attention back to the tasks at hand. Deep reflection is a luxury when time is short and children are calling. Still, a few years back, something happened that stopped me in my tracks and forced me to take a long, hard look at the choices I've made in my life.

When I was in college, I dreamed only of a brilliant career. I thought about children too, but in those thoughts I was kissing them goodbye as I headed out the door in my power suit. Upon graduation, I worked on Wall Street, then attended law school. Next was a big law firm in New York. The plan was to pay off some student loans before pursuing a career as a criminal prosecutor. But along the way, I met my husband and everything began to change. I was tired of the long hours and the way my life was prioritized. Soon after getting married, we moved to the suburbs. I quit my job and decided to get our house settled. I was thirty years old and it was time to have a baby.

While I was nesting, I made good use of my law degree by volunteering at the ACLU. For almost a year, I helped research and write briefs on constitutional issues. It was a dream come true for a lawyer, even if it meant commuting back into the city a couple of days a week. The work was engaging, the people dedicated and passionate. And I decided that after I was done staying home with my children, I would restart my legal career in the non-profit sector.

When I became pregnant with my first son, I knew it was time to wind down my volunteer work. I rode the train to New York and marched into the office of the woman I worked for. But before I could break the news to her, she told me that a job had opened up — a paying job — and that I should throw my hat in the ring. She told me I had a decent shot at it since all of the lawyers knew me. For a second, I forgot about the path I was now on, the house in the suburbs, the baby on the way. This was my dream job. But the moment passed, as it had to. I told her I was pregnant and that I had decided to stay home with my baby. She congratulated me and a few months later I cleared out my makeshift desk and headed home for good.

My son was born that spring. Two more babies followed. Ten years passed in the blink of an eye. I was no longer a lawyer taking a short break to care for a baby. I was a fully embedded stay-home mother with a posse of stay-home mommy friends. One of my friends shared my interest in politics and law. She also had a connection to the United States Supreme Court, so we decided to take a trip to Washington to hear oral arguments. It was more to us than just a couple of nights away from our lives. It was a rejuvenation of the parts of ourselves that we had left behind years ago, and we scanned the cases that were being heard that fall like kids in a candy shop. The cases are listed by name, and I recognized one instantly. Ten years prior, I had worked on that very case at the ACLU. I was ecstatic. We booked our flights, a room at a nice hotel, massages, and restaurant reservations. And I read every brief that had been filed in the case over the years, sweeping off the cobwebs that had formed in my brain.

I was nothing short of giddy as I packed my suitcase. On the plane, I rambled on and on about the issues in the case. We arrived in DC and saw a show at the Kennedy Center. I went for a run, then had my massage. We sipped cosmos over a nice dinner, watched a movie, and went to bed much too late. We were on vacation! The next morning we took a cab to the court. We were ushered inside to a special waiting area for guests of the court, the same area where lawyers for the case gather. From across the room I heard my name called and when I turned around, my life froze all around me.

Standing with the other lawyers was the team from the ACLU that I had worked with years before. I went over to say hello. There were big hugs and explanations as to why I was there, but my mind was in a haze of realization. The only lawyer I didn't recognize was the woman who was arguing the case — the woman, it seems, who had been hired for the job I had walked away from ten years before.

We were taken to our seats, my friend and I to the visitors' section, the lawyers from the ACLU to the front table. And for most of the hour, I heard the questions that I knew would be asked, and I felt the answers form in my head. The ACLU lawyer was brilliant, but as I was admiring her, I could not help but think the words "that could have been me." It wasn't entirely rational. I may not have been hired for the job. I may not have been able to manage a baby in the suburbs and the commute to New York. I may not have been good enough to be lead counsel. Still, I was in the Court as a vacationing mommy, and the woman who filled that job was arguing in front of the United States Supreme Court. Never had my choice been exposed to such a bright light.

My friend and I headed home the next day. I re-entered my life as the mother of three little boys who were now grumpy because I'd been away. And as I lay in bed that night, I considered that life. I thought about my years with my children, and how being with them every day had given me something I had needed, a connection to life I had always ignored. And from being a mom I had also become a writer, a job I love. I felt a wave of relief that I did not have regrets. Still, I look at choices more carefully now. The feelings that erupted as I sat in the Court have stayed with me. And at every fork in the road, I remind myself to look down each path — to look long and hard. Regret did not find me this time. But it came awfully close.

http://www.chickensoup.com