Gemma Hartley

The money is great, but it is not the best part of becoming a working mom. Having my own career has shifted the power balance of my relationship.

My first child’s milestones were elaborately marked, photographed, and celebrated with much fanfare... My third child however? Not so much. His first birthday was a much quieter affair — if it could be called an affair at all.

Sometimes, I think back to all the ridiculous things I did for boys when I was younger and cringe.

Fortunately, when I look back at my childhood, it was mostly happy. I had parents who loved me. I had plenty of friends. I had access to food and shelter and education and more. Yet even with all my privilege, I don't want my daughter to have the same adolescence as me.

Back when I had my first child, back when he was still a baby, I imagined us moving to the mountains. I was thinking about having three more kids, living off the grid, and soaking up every last bit of their wild childhood. It was a fantasy, through and through.

At Santa Rosa Christian School, dancing was a gateway drug. The gyrating, the slow romantic swaying...

My mother called me the morning after the

You are a professional. You want to handle your business with a certain air of sophistication. You want to tell them "f*ck no," but want to do so graciously, tactfully — you are, after all, a wordsmith.

Getting pregnant after postpartum depression may have stolen a lot from me, but it gave me a lot more.