What I wish I knew about Parental Leave as an HR before becoming a mother

Over the years, I’ve supported women through their pregnancies and parental leaves, offering what I believed was helpful support. But after 18 months of my own journey into motherhood, I now realize how much I underestimated the reality (turns out, reading policies and living them are two very different things.) Being in the HR seat adds an interesting twist to the whole experience.

Let’s get one thing straight from the start: I wasn’t someone who grew up dreaming of motherhood. In fact, there was a time when I didn’t even want kids (and the number of unsolicited comments I received about this decision is a whole separate topic for another day.) But eventually, I decided I was ready, and the journey began.

The early stages: Navigating the unknown

The first three months of pregnancy? Let’s just say they weren’t my finest. That awkward phase where you’re not “supposed” to tell anyone, but your body is changing, and you feel awful. Working remotely helped. Except for that one offsite where I had to fake drinking alcohol to avoid suspicion (hello, awkward). And I have immense respect for women commuting daily during pregnancy. The few days I had to travel for work? Brutal.

Then come the endless medical appointments, scheduled smack in the middle of the day with zero flexibility. I had a supportive boss, so it wasn’t an issue for me, but it made me wonder: how do other women manage this without flexibility? This experience alone changed the way I think about HR policies.

Last but not least, there was the pregnancy brain. I don’t mean the cute “forgetting where you put your keys” kind. I’m talking about sitting in a meeting, attempting to string a coherent sentence together, and realizing your brain has turned into cotton. It wasn’t just exhaustion, it was an identity shift. I started questioning my own competence. But that was just a preview of what was coming.

Stepping away: An emotional weight

I had always assumed I’d be one of those people working right up until the last minute. Turns out, there’s no such thing as "that kind of person". We all have limits, and mine came sooner than expected. I felt like I was abandoning my team, and that guilt weighed on me. Of course, I wasn’t abandoning anyone, but tell that to my inner overachiever.

Before my own experience, I used to think of parental leave mostly in terms of logistics. How to organize work before stepping away. But the emotional and psychological aspects? Wildly underestimated. Handing off tasks is one thing, mentally disconnecting is another.

Maternity leave: A crash course in adaptability

When you’re in the thick of maternity leave, your brain is hijacked by your newborn. I quickly realized this wasn’t just time away from work, it was an entirely new skill set. Managing constant exhaustion, deciphering an infant’s every need, and navigating the emotional rollercoaster of new parenthood. It’s like being thrown into an intense leadership boot camp, except your boss is an irrational tiny human (well, sometimes your boss is just an irrational human, it’s true.)

I’ll admit, I missed work at first. And yes, I found myself lending a hand between naps and taking calls while breastfeeding (because apparently, I have a hard time completely letting go). It was a way to stay connected to a part of my identity. But I was constantly torn between wanting to get back to normal (spoiler alert: there is no normal after this) and the pull to be fully present with my baby.

The return to work: A balancing act

I was lucky enough to have a gradual return. But if I had had to drop my daughter off at daycare at three months as originally planned? No idea how I would have done it. She was so tiny, so dependent on me (and our nights were far from restorative at this time).

When choosing my next role (because yes, I also had to add the challenge of taking on new responsibilities while getting back to work), flexibility was at the top of my list. And let’s be honest, seeing Yubo’s CEO take two months of paternity leave (as “off” as a CEO can be) sealed the deal for me. I already wrote about company culture and how it’s about what leadership does, not just what they say. This was a perfect example.

Now that I’m back to business, even with all my best planning skills, the smallest hiccup can throw everything off. But I’m one of the lucky ones. My daughter sleeps quite well (yes, I know I’ve probably just jinxed myself), my husband carries his fair share (not “helps”, he does his job of parent, if you see what I mean), and while we both have high-responsibility roles with frequent travel, we’re making it work.

I can say that yes, I’m happy I came back to work. Still, there are moments in the day when I wonder "What the hell am I doing here? Shouldn’t I be with her?". The thought passes quickly because I love what I do, but it’s sometimes there, lurking.

From an HR perspective, I now see just how critical it is to build a workplace that supports parents beyond policies on paper. Flexibility isn’t a perk, it’s a necessity. Personally, this is what allows me to handle the famous “evening baby tunnel” without constantly wondering if my boss is losing patience, waiting for an immediate answer from me (though, to be fair, I suspect he’s also dealing with his own baby tunnel. Ahah.)

What I owe to the parents I worked with: A Promise for the future

So, to the women I was managing or advising as HR while you were going through this: I’m sorry. I didn’t fully understand what you were living through. I’m still learning how to be a working mum, and I suspect this adventure is full of surprises. But one thing is certain: going forward, I will approach these situations with a completely different perspective.