For AGMA’s Women’s History Month Spotlight, Soloist Madison Leonard shares an honest look at returning to work as a new mother. In this personal essay, she writes about balancing the demands of breastfeeding with the pace of rehearsal, and the everyday, necessary ways she’s learning to advocate for herself and others.
Women’s History Month Spotlight: A Lactating Mother’s Intermission
By Madison Leonard, Soloist
That’s our fifteen minute break, everyone might as well have been on your marks, get set, go. I all but sprint across the building to my devoted closet-turned-lactation-room across the complex. Don’t want to make a strange impression on my first day with a new company, but there’s a task at hand. Well, breast.
There’s nothing that can truly prepare you for some of the more gruesome realities of new motherhood. And breastfeeding must truly be near the top of the list. Never-ending, exhausting, overwhelming, incredible. And doing this in the midst of re-entering the workplace — and performing! — well, it’s a lot. I finally make it to my little janitor’s closet — I mean, lactation room — and whip out all of the necessary bits and bobs. And boobs. (Can we print that word?) Everything gets going and flowing and I look down at my phone to see that there are 7 minutes left on the break. 7 minutes in heaven. Though, not really. That won’t be nearly enough time to finish the job here. Let alone get everything poured out, distributed, wiped off, put away, zipped up, tucked in, and sprint back to the rehearsal room before we start the next scene.
But do my colleagues know anything about this? No, bless their hearts. Even saying the word breastfeeding or lactation summons not-so-subtly disguised grimaces and wide eyes. Not because of any impropriety, really; it is the 21st century, after all. But just unfamiliarity. So here I am, the ambassador of breastfeeding. The new mother not afraid to just say the dang thing. I come back 30 seconds late to that first water break and break the news, hey, apologies, but that’s just not enough time for me to get the job done. Could you give me a head start on the next one? And because we live in this day and age, they will. Usually. Too many fears of HR and legal consequences, thanks to the squeaky wheels who came before me.
Where is my place in this chain of Motherly Improvers? That is what we do best, after all. Make things better. Clean it up. Point out the inconsistencies and blips and glaring errors, and just — do it better. So I’m speaking up, speaking out, speaking the word breastfeeding, and maybe even sharing a few tales about motherhood. Definitely forcing photos of my sweet halflings to the new colleagues seated around me. They need to know. Of course, we’re all balancing lives as artists and humans — as if one complicated existence wasn’t enough. But I’m nourishing another human being with my body right now. Literally right now. It’s one of the greatest miracles of being a woman that I’ve experienced so far, though there are many. I am grateful for the many strides taken to make our workplaces better, safer, and more accommodating for this brilliant and incredibly difficult chapter of life — but oh my stars, we’ve still got a long way to go.