I have an old classmate who, like me, is a lawyer; but unlike me, she lives in Candada.  And unlike me, when her daughter was born, she got an entire year paid parental leave.  I have another classmate from college who married a Dane and lives in Copenhagen, where both she and her husband got a year - each! - paid leave.  I would like to say that I am too old for constant jealousy, but being jealous of their year off is a major activity of mine.  

But since the closest we've come to moving to Cananda is watching Property Virgins: Toronto, and my Danish is limited to "smoorbrod" ("sandwich" - I think), I think I'm stuck here, in America, where you and your teeny tiny new baby are at the mercy of your employer.  And by most American standards, I am among the lucky: my employer offers 12 weeks paid parental leave.  I know plenty of other lawyers who get 4 weeks, 6 weeks, or even no weeks paid time off for the birth of a child.  One local firm I know of offers NO paid leave, just the option to avail oneself of the Family Medical Leave Act (oh...may I?).  

Yet professional women have babies in this country every day.  I have no data or statistics on what happens to those women who get no or little paid leave - do they quit?  do they go back to work after just a few weeks?  I have no idea.  But I do know this: it is a bold statement for an employer to say: I value you so little that I will spend the money finding, hiring and training a replacement rather than making it possible for you to stick it out at work long term.  

And I hear all the time how paid maternity leaves cost money and time.  But really, is it THAT much more expensive than hiring new people when professional women, when given the choice of all or nothing, may choose nothing?  Because "all" is almost impossible, or at least quite unpleasant.  

Then I turn and look at my precious baby, my increasingly sweet and funny second child, and brace myself for another return into the workforce.  I brace myself to, yet again, leave my tiny, 3 month old infant, who still nurses every 90 minutes and prefers to nap on my chest, with strangers.  I will get used to it, but I'll never get these fragile early months back.  I know that I am lucky, that having three paid months at home is a great gift in this country, but I can't help but thinking that maybe we, as a nation, should adjust our expectations, and rethink whether it is merely "lucky" to let little babies and their moms spend those delicate early months at home.