Finding a Balance: A Narrative Inquiry into Motherhood and the Doctoral Process

"At least half of those who start the doctoral process, don't finish it," stated my professor matter-of-factly. My small cohort and I sat together around the conference room table. The atmosphere was a bit stifling despite the fact that the air conditioning was cranked down to seventy. You would never know that outside, a brisk December wind whipped through the crowded parking lot and campus walkways. It could be that the thirteen warm bodies, occupying a space more fitting for a walk-in closet, caused conditions similar to those experienced in the July Florida sun, or, it might have been my own imagination that created such conditions. Maybe it was simply my sudden dismay and aggravation having noticed the faces of my peers shifting ever so slightly in my direction. Were they looking at me? Of course they were. The instructor's simple comment was likely to cause an eye or two to turn my way. After all, I was the only doctoral student in the class sporting a stomach worthy of notice. I was the only seven-month pregnant woman in the room. Of course they expected me to be one of the unfortunate ones who would ultimately quit. Yet, I have always been a focused, driven student. I have always finished my assignments in a timely manner and to the best of my ability. Actually, I have typically completed my work well in advance of assigned deadlines. My peers were aware of my dedication. They understood my passion for learning. They couldn't possibly expect that I would be the one to fail. Could they? Maybe the cause of my distress had nothing to do with this invisible judgment. Was it possible that my discomfort stemmed from my own self-doubt brimming to the surface? My dream had always been to be a caring, involved mother. I could remember times in my own childhood when my father was too busy to attend piano recitals, dance recitals, and band concerts. I promised myself that I would never be that parent. I would be a mother who extended time, energy, and most importantly, bestowed love on my children. Would the doctoral program allow me the flexibility to be the dedicated and attentive parent that I so desired or would I find myself treading water, trying to stay afloat amid an endless succession of assignments, work, and dirty diapers? This single moment spawned a question within my mind. How do women navigate the world of academia while fulfilling familial obligations and what potential obstacles stand between mothers and their efforts to successfully complete a program of study? After all, there have to be plenty of women out there who have managed to successfully manage a home, work, and a graduate program of study... right? How do they do it? How will I do it? Journal Entry--February 25, 2011 My life changed forever today. This morning, at 6:27a.m., I gave birth to the most beautiful 8 lb. 6 oz. girl that ever existed! (I'm sure all mothers say that, but when I say it, it's true.) It was a day that will live on within my mind, my heart, and my soul for the rest of my life. I was nervous, to say the least. Here I was, suddenly being whisked down the hospital hallway to the operating room in preparation for a c-section; major surgery! Yet, after I was wheeled in and greeted by the staff, the bright lights, and the antiseptic smell, my worry seemed to vanish. I wasn't scared, rather, I was ecstatic! It hit me that I was about to have my baby! I was about to become a mommy! I couldn't wait to find out if Scott (my husband) and I were about to be blessed with a little boy or a little girl. We made the conscious decision to wait until the birth to learn if we were having a boy or a girl. Of course, everyone thought we were having a boy. For the past nine months, my family and friends seemed to speak non-stop about the shape of my belly and the way that I was carrying. My family, friends, colleagues, classmates, even my professors weighed in and cast a vote. Now the moment of truth had arrived and I couldn't wait. …