My partner, Lisa, graduated from college last week. She managed to juggle part-time studies for five years while caring for three children, including the arrival of our youngest, during that time, all while I juggled two jobs.
Throughout those five years, I often came home late to find her in comfy sweats, hunched over her laptop, eyes weary from late nights, with our kids snoozing on the couch, a movie playing in the background. College turned her into someone who thrived at night and rose early. She was burning the candle at both ends, stealing moments in our packed schedule to finish her assignments.
Lisa gave birth to our youngest daughter, Mia, right before the end of the spring semester. I suggested she take a break from classes, but she was adamant about keeping up, even with her planned C-section. That entire semester felt like a ticking clock.
Every day and night, she worked to stay ahead before welcoming our daughter. She kept her professors informed, and thankfully, they were understanding. But as the delivery day approached, she found herself a bit behind in her studies due to the challenges of motherhood and pregnancy.
In the hospital, cradling our sleeping baby, Lisa sat propped up in bed, laptop balanced on her lap, typing away on discussion boards and term papers. Her expression was a mix of pain relief and fierce determination. I was in college when our first two kids were born, and I remember holding our son in one arm like a football, bouncing him while trying to read a textbook with the other hand.
In that moment, I felt dedicated to my studies, and I was. But the day before, I hadn’t just undergone major surgery and faced months of recovery. The truth is, my level of commitment paled in comparison to what Lisa displayed after the birth of our third daughter.
Her real test of dedication came a month later when she had to ask for an incomplete grade so she could wrap up her spring semester courses over the summer. The look on her face was one of disappointment, and I could see she felt she had failed.
While I knew her request for an extension was perfectly reasonable, she believed she should be able to manage everything without letting childbirth interfere with her education. I helped her draft emails to her professors, where she expressed her situation and said, “I hope they understand.”
Naturally, they did — one even praised her for her remarkable strength and commitment to her education.
In the two years following Mia’s birth, I vividly remember trying to get our little one to nap. She was a bundle of energy, and when Lisa came home from class, she scooped her up. Mia nestled into Lisa’s shoulder, sighing with relief as if my partner was an oasis. Lisa rocked her gently on her hip, soothing her while simultaneously working on a paper. Her multitasking skills were nothing short of impressive.
At least once each term, Lisa would reach her breaking point, usually around midterms, and say she wanted to quit. “I just want to be a mom,” she’d declare. I always found it interesting how she downplayed the role of being a mom, as if it were a simple task. In reality, motherhood encompasses countless responsibilities, and the fact that she balanced it with school was incredibly inspiring. She often worried about taking time away from our family. In those moments, I shifted from being just a father and husband to being her biggest supporter.
“You’re doing amazing,” I encouraged her. “You’ve got this! How can I help?” While I aimed to pitch in with long-term household duties, most of the time, she just needed me to pack a lunch or handle some other small task that felt overwhelming during midterms.
Reflecting on all this, especially in contrast to her studying the day after the birth of our daughter, really illustrates how hard she was working.
When Lisa attended graduation, our 6-year-old daughter placed the tassel on her cap. I’m not sure if Mia fully grasped the significance of her mother’s achievement, but I plan to show her that photo one day, reminding her of the effort Lisa put into earning that cap and gown, and how much it meant for her to see her mother walk across the stage to receive her diploma.
To all the mothers out there pursuing education, you are not alone. According to the Institute for Women’s Policy Research, there were approximately 3.4 million student mothers in 2014. I’m in awe of each and every one of you. Your commitment to family and education is truly inspiring. You are champions. You are incredible.
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In summary, the challenges faced by mothers in academia are immense, yet the dedication to their families and education is unparalleled. Their resilience is a testament to their strength, and it deserves recognition.