by Melissa Gomez
Senior Director of Development, Fiver Children's Foundation
On Thursday, October 2nd, 2025 at 1:07pm, I gave birth to my daughter, Lively Winifred Gomez, and my life was forever changed. This moment was the exclamation point—and then the comma—after nearly two years of pursuing IUI and then IVF to conceive. And then being a high‑risk pregnancy with gestational diabetes during the summer?! It felt like I was being dealt the toughest hand ever. But the minute I held Lively, every challenge felt suddenly, unquestionably worth it.
Those early weeks were a blur of on‑the‑hour feedings, recovering from my c‑section, and emotions that swung wildly by the minute. The newborn trenches are real, and they were every
bit as intense as advertised. But slowly, amidst the sleep deprivation, my husband and I found our footing. We weren’t thriving, exactly—but we were learning, adapting, and showing up for our daughter the best we could.
Before I knew it, it was Lively’s first Halloween, and five weeks of my maternity leave had evaporated. That’s when the familiar dread hit: How on earth was I supposed to return to work as a fundraiser—a role defined by early mornings, late nights, events, urgency, and emotional labor—while also keeping this tiny human alive and well?
I reminded myself I wasn’t alone. The nonprofit sector is powered predominantly by women—roughly two‑thirds of nonprofit employees are women, according to Nonprofit Quarterly.
And yet, the systems and supports that working moms need haven’t caught up with that reality. In fact, only about one‑third of nonprofits nationally offer paid maternity leave. [ibiweb.org] [inn.org]
That disconnect hit me hard. How can a sector so reliant on women—women who lead, women who nurture, women who hold communities together—still struggle to support them during one of the most vulnerable and transformative seasons of their lives?
And yet… I’m one of the lucky ones.
My organization does provide paid maternity leave, and our full‑time team includes three other moms, two of whom have children under age five. What I walked into was not just tolerance of my new identity as a working mom—it was camaraderie, compassion, flexibility, and trust. The kind of environment that makes you feel not just permitted to be both a mother and a professional, but celebrated for it.
And even with this near‑ideal support system, the fear still crept in:
How will I show up now? How will I juggle early morning meetings, daycare drop‑offs, last‑minute donor calls, evening events, and all the invisible labor that motherhood adds to the equation?
So I took a deep breath.
I approached this transition the way I approach my work: strategically and thoughtfully. I researched and toured daycare facilities. I compared costs and reworked our family budget. Eventually, the combination of data and gut instinct led us to a daycare that has become one of the biggest blessings for our family.
Once childcare was sorted, the next question was: What else needs to shift? What commitments could stay, and which ones needed new boundaries? My involvement with AFP NYC—especially serving as co‑chair of the Professional Advancement Committee—has been one of the most fulfilling parts of my professional life. I knew I wanted to continue, and I’m deeply grateful to my colleagues on the board and PAC for their encouragement, flexibility, and genuine support as I stepped into this new identity.
In many ways, AFP has become a reminder that while motherhood is now an essential and cherished part of who I am, it’s not the only part. The other facets of my life—my leadership, my voice, my creativity, my professional community—they still matter. They still deserve to be nurtured.
And that’s the message I hope resonates across our sector.
If we’re going to be an industry led by women, powered by women, and sustained by the values of care and community, then supporting working moms shouldn’t be the exception—it should be the rule. The nonprofit sector has always pushed society toward greater equity. It’s time we do the same within our own workplaces.
Because when women thrive, nonprofits thrive. When mothers are supported, entire communities benefit and are lifted up. And when working moms are trusted to bring their full selves to their work—messy, joyful, exhausted, inspired—the impact is immeasurable.
Lively has changed my life in every way. And as I navigate this new chapter—balancing fundraising goals with nap schedules, donor meetings with daycare calls, professional ambition with maternal instinct—I’m learning that becoming a working mom doesn’t diminish who I was before. It expands it.
And maybe that’s the most profound transition of all.

Melissa Gomez is a Brooklyn native and seasoned fundraising professional with more than 18 years of experience rooted in empathy, strategy, and mission‑driven leadership. She currently serves as Senior Director of Development at Fiver Children’s Foundation, overseeing all fundraising and marketing initiatives. Melissa is an alum of Youth Inc.’s Rise Academy for Leaders of Color and serves on the AFP NYC board, where she co‑chairs the Professional Advancement Committee and contributes to the Audit and IDEA Committees.
A new mom after a long IUI/IVF journey, she is passionate about advocating for equitable workplace policies for women and caregivers. Outside of work, Melissa enjoys music, travel, writing, and wrestling, remains a loyal Knicks fan, and proudly reps the BeyHive. She lives in the northeast Bronx with her husband, Cecilio, and daughter, Lively.