Courtesy of Meghan McCain
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Meghan McCain. It has been edited for length and clarity.
For a long time, I thought my career was the most important thing. So, when I secured a co-host position on "The View" in 2017, I felt like the character in "The Devil Wears Prada": a million girls wanted this job, and I had it.
And yet, like in the movie, the job wasn't all it was cracked up to be. The second day after I returned from maternity leave, in January 2021, it all came to a head. On set, I lactated through my shirt. I cried on a commercial break and vomited from anxiety in my dressing room.
More than anything, I had realized that this environment was no longer healthy for me or my family. There were already so many clips on the internet that I was embarrassed about. I was becoming a parody of myself — the SNL skit version of Meghan. I didn't want to have to explain that to the people I loved in the future.
So, at the end of that season, I left. I was proud I did it on my terms, but I also hoped I hadn't just made the biggest mistake of my life.
I'm 39, so I grew up in an era of strong career women. The ladies on "Sex and the City" were my icons, and motherhood seemed at odds with a successful career.
Now, I wish I hadn't been so scared of motherhood for so long. I wish I had started earlier and had five kids — though my two girls, who are three and one, keep me plenty busy. I hope the next generation has role models that are moms and careerwomen who can talk about the nuances of what that looks like in reality. Maybe then, they won't feel like I did: that having kids would be detrimental to their careers.
Although I didn't have many role models, I did have one great piece of advice. Political commentator Margaret Hoover, who is only a few years older than me, told me to take my fertility as seriously as I took my career. Because of her words, I saw a fertility specialist and thought about freezing my eggs. When I met my now-husband, I had conversations about fertility much sooner than I would have if Margaret hadn't shared that.
My dad, Sen. John McCain, died in 2018. I was still very much grieving for him when my daughter, Liberty, was born in 2020. In the current political climate I miss that he was a true bipartisan leader. But much more than that, I miss that he was such a good time. I just wish my girls could be around him.
I knew I'd be teaching my children about my dad as the man he was and the myth he became in American politics. Yet I never anticipated I'd have to debunk conspiracy theories about him. I don't know yet how I'll explain to the girls that Grandpa had nothing to do with QAnon.
But I do know how I'll pass along his legacy. He and my mother always said don't lie, cheat, or steal, and everything else is fair game. That's such a good base of morality to start with.
I have so much support, including nannies and my in-laws living just up the road. It's made the big challenges of motherhood — like postpartum anxiety and miscarriages — bearable while also helping with the day-to-day challenges.
We need more support like this for moms. It's not fair that the US is so behind every other country when it comes to paid family leave. I believe in that so strongly, which is probably the most liberal thing about me.
Michelle Obama once said that women can have it all, but not all at once. I know she's right about that. When I left "The View," I focused on motherhood. I could win an Olympic medal for using the NoseFrida to clear the nasal passages of a sick infant. I'm up to date with the latest on Miss Rachel.
Now, two days a week, I step away from that to take time for my career passion with my new podcast. It's a chance to connect with myself and focus on the issues of the world, not the issues of raising toddlers. I love it, and yet if I had to choose between motherhood and career, I'd choose motherhood every time, hands down.
