A Door Closed, a Decision Made Easy

I’m turning 30 next week, and I’ve been doing a bit of reflecting on the last decade, and all the wonderful things that have happened to me in my twenties. Like many women, developing my career and becoming a mother were both top goals that I worked towards during that decade. And I am very blessed to have accomplished both, after a fashion. I have a strong teacher’s resume and multiple years’ experience in some pretty incredible international schools, and, after a struggle with infertility, I became a mom last spring to my beautiful twin boys. But these events made a certain dilemma inevitable: when should I go back to work?

This question was on my mind constantly during my pregnancy. I had just gotten a foot in the door at my dream school, and though I didn’t love my current role, the five minute walking commute and the low stress of the position couldn’t be beat. I got questions from colleagues all the time about when and if I would be returning, and my consistent answer was really a non-answer–”I’m not making any promises.” I knew I wanted to soak up the baby stage with my boys and take a well-earned break from teaching, but I also knew it would be hard to leave working behind cold-turkey. Would I come back when school resumed in August and my babies were nearing 6 months old, or would I wait another year and try going back when they were toddlers? I leaned towards the latter but simultaneously didn’t want to slam the door shut and have this school forget about me.

Well, the birth happened, along with all of its unforeseen stresses and medical drama, and, fast-forward, the end of summer came and went and I had no desire to go back to work. But the possibility of next year was still niggling in the back of my mind. By that time I was used to stay-at-home mom life, and though I love many parts of that life, it can get old sometimes too. I was still conflicted about whether I should apply for the 2019-2020 school year, which I would have to do this fall in order to be considered. That seemed so imminent, even though I wouldn’t be starting for almost a year and getting a desirable position was still a long shot.

Enter, bureaucracy. In all my previous jobs in Saudi Arabia I had been working semi-illegally (although with tacit government approval) because I did not have a work visa. Well, the powers that be finally decided to crack down on this rule in our particular Western enclave, which meant all the easy-to-come by positions that had been filled by people like me (spouses of people with “real,” more lucrative jobs) were disappearing. Now the new rule is, no work visa, no work for you. For a variety of dull logistical, financial, and bureaucratic reasons I won’t go into, it would be difficult for me to get such a visa, and it likely wouldn’t be worth the hassle. Essentially, these new regulations mean that I can no longer work, which means my decision about when to leave my kids is moot.

A lot of people I know are affected by this change, and the majority of them are, understandably, pissed. People who have worked in the same job for five or six years have been told they are being let go next year when the rules come into effect, and there’s very little recourse. But for me, I found the news freeing. Sometimes when you face a hard decision, it’s really nice when circumstances outside your control decide things for you. In this case, I already knew leaving my kids all day, five days a week, and bringing work home in the evenings and on weekends just wasn’t going to work well for our family right now. I knew I would regret not spending time with them during these fleeting years. Now I have no choice but to stay home and cuddle my little ones while they’re still little, and no one can judge me or wonder when I’m going to get off my butt and rejoin the workforce, because I literally can’t.

Occasionally I still feel a pang of worry for my CV…how many years will I end up staying home? Will that gap look bad to potential employers? Am I shooting myself in the foot by giving up right after I finally had a chance to work at the school I loved? But I have spoken with many teacher colleagues in the past few months. Many of them told me how they took time off to have kids and went back to work a few years later. Others told me they didn’t but wished they had. No one has told me they stayed at home, lost all ambition, never worked again, and regretted it forever.

So there you have it. I didn’t anticipate the decision being made like this, but I am at peace with where I am right now. I worked and hoped and prayed so long for these babies, I can’t imagine trading time with them for anything. If rules change, as they so often do here, who knows what might happen in a year or two. But for now, I’m an unemployed stay-at-home mom, professional breastmilk producer, expert tickler, and diaper changing guru. The rest of my qualifications will keep for another time.