This sucks (Part II.)

This is the second of a series of posts about working moms and breastfeeding. If you have not read Part I., start here.

My friend, Jackie* has worked for almost a decade for a large, well-respected non-profit in the Denver area. As you read her story, please keep in mind that she works in a state where employers are legally obligated to accommodate the needs of breastfeeding employees, at an organization where the HR department is fond of touting how “family-friendly” it is.

Jackie had a complicated delivery; her newborn son suffered trauma that required major surgery. It was as terrifying as you can imagine. Somehow Jackie managed to breastfeed, despite her son’s surgery and lengthy hospital stay, and throughout her five-month maternity leave. She fully intended to continue breastfeeding when she returned to work for the recommended first year.

“I had a child with health issues, and there are so many health benefits of breastfeeding,” she told me. “I wanted to give him every extra advantage.”

When her baby was five months old, Jackie packed up a rented hospital-grade breast pump with the complicated mix of emotions that many new moms experience—sadness, relief, guilt—and returned to work.

On the first day back, Jackie’s male boss said, “You know, people are going to look at you differently now that you’re a parent. Most people here don’t have kids.”

“I didn’t know what he meant,” Jackie told me, “but it totally freaked me out. The message I took from that was, ‘Don’t rock the boat.’”

Around that same time, a male coworker asked her if she’d “read any good books” while she was on maternity leave. The question was so profoundly out of sync with the five exhausting months she’d spent running back and forth between home and The Children’s Hospital, she didn’t know what to say.

“They think you’re lying on a beach when you’re on maternity leave,” Jackie said. “They have no idea.”

The family-friendly HR department didn’t offer any information for moms returning to work. A lactation consultant had told Jackie that her employer was legally obligated to provide a private place to pump (not a bathroom). So her first day back, Jackie asked the HR staff where she should go.

The human resources administrator, (a woman without kids of her own), directed her to a tiny, windowless “telephone” room with a chair, a phone, and an electrical outlet. The room had a sliding door that didn’t shut completely. Anyone who cared to look could peek through the small crack, and it was far from soundproof. The woman proudly pointed out the cheap latch lock that had been installed after another nursing mom had complained.

“It was a basically a converted closet,” Jackie said.

In theory a larger room was available, but it was in a wildly inconvenient location across the street in another building, and it was supposed to be reserved for people preparing to give presentations.

“I’d have to tell the guy who runs it, ‘Hey, I need your room three times a day so you have to tell your famous lecturers they can’t be in there.’”

Other nursing moms in the office had rejected these options, choosing instead to book the small conference rooms when they could get them. These rooms were more conveniently located, but lacked privacy.

“They have clear glass for about three feet from the floor, then frosted glass,” Jackie said. “People are always bending over to see who has the room. Sometimes people barge in. Even if you want to use them, you can’t always get them—you have to book them in advance and they’re in high demand.”

Jackie talked with another nursing coworker who was in the same dilemma. Technically, the law in Jackie’s state said their employer was required to provide appropriate accommodations that were not a toilet stall, but Jackie said the wording seemed to her a little vague. (Since March 23, 2010, the law has become more clear, thanks to the new health reform bill.)

The women decided not to complain. Their decision had less to do with the law and more to do with this: Both had carefully negotiated changes to their schedules that were not the norm at the office. There was no official flextime policy at their family-friendly organization; each person had to work out her schedule with her supervisor. The implication was that they were getting special treatment, which could be taken away at any time.

Don’t rock the boat.

“We were on such precarious terms,” Jackie explained to me. “Plus, I was exhausted. I didn’t have the wherewithal to say ‘This isn’t acceptable.’”

Jackie decided to come up with her own solution. Read Part III.

*Names and some identifying details have been changed.

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Tagged as: breastfeeding, coworkers, employers, new moms, pumping at work, working moms