What strikes me each time I come across a fellow working mom at UNDP, Pakistani or not, is the remarkable, though relentless, balancing act we have learned to master over time: not that it can ever be perfect.
 
A recent study across 84 countries by the ILO and UN Women confirms what many of us already know from experience: women’s labour force participation is significantly impacted by household dynamics. Women with young children are far less likely to be employed—and for those who step away from work, securing a job after those empty years on their CVs is extremely challenging. You are guaranteed to lose your place in the waiting line for promotions or better opportunities as you wait for your kids to grow older. This explains, to an extent, why that group of working mothers at your office—the loyal, laser-focused bunch—hardly have time to gossip, politick, or stay relevant. Their decision to stay is hard, and the struggle to keep going is real.

The term motherhood penalty is, unfortunately, a very real and common phenomenon, where women pay the price of motherhood through delayed promotions, a vastly skewed work-life balance, and the pressure to do it all. They pace their ambition accordingly. Easier jobs become acceptable when once, technical and challenging roles were her forte. Moving away for work, if possible at all, comes with many caveats. Field visits have to be planned to a T. Training and secondment opportunities are very often forgone as the inconvenient logistics, guilt, and stress add up. I regret having missed at least three international opportunities (one to Italy!) in the past.

It borders on the miraculous when a woman in Pakistan decides to keep working after having her first child, especially given her dependance on an unpredictable support system and the ever-present burden of guilt so freely bestowed upon her. Add to that the expectations of being an early or mid-career professional. Most women in Pakistan marry and have children young. While this is gradually changing, what most women still get is a stress-inducing, health-affecting, angst-provoking recipe characterized by either stumbling ambition or a bare-minimum approach to work.

Daycares in Pakistan are few and far between–not to mention very expensive–and many working women (much to my horror) choose underage girls to babysit their babies and young children, as they are cheaper and easier to control. The introduction of paternity leave and similar measures will only lead to systemic, sustained change if they are independent of supervisor bias and “shadow culture” (how many new fathers face older dads at work who laugh at their diaper changing superpowers?), and if they are prioritized by senior management and HR leadership.

It is no wonder we increasingly come across young, ambitious women—many of them married—who are in no hurry to become mothers. The impersonality of being in the online world—sometimes more keenly than in our chaotic real one—has caused a seismic shift in us as human beings. We are there already: kids struggle to let go of screens during dinner, while parents scroll through their phones, half-listening to the details of their day. As so many developed countries grapple with ageing populations, we need to incentivize, not penalize, motherhood.

What organizations cannot ignore is that working mums do not take the opportunities they are provided for granted. Yet there remains an underlying expectation to constantly prove that you are worthy of the job you have—and that you are not “exploiting the system” to fulfill your responsibilities as a working mother. With shrinking overseas development assistance, the motherhood penalty can be turned into a dividend if organizations remain committed to going the extra mile for mothers who choose to remain in the workforce.