For All the Ladies Out There
Motherhood is hard.
I know I harp and whine about it a bit, but I really wish someone had made me understand what the hell that means. I figured the sleep deprivation, the vigilance that is required to keep an infant alive, time management and all of that would be hard. I understood that pregnancy was a strain on the body, but I was in good shape (Which is probably why I got pregnant in the first place). I had no fear of childbirth and was actually excited for that experience. I love being busy and I love taking care of people and I love hard work. I figured that I would be tired and maybe a little lonely, but I'd been through that before and thought the rewards would far outweigh the price I would have to pay. But no one warned me. No one told me that it's a soul sucking job that would leave me feeling more isolated and alone than I had ever felt in my life- and THAT'S saying something. No one told me the extent to which a child can drive a wedge in between two loving adults who had, up until that point, worked together as a perfect team.
I was also under the assumption that I was made for the job. Once I reached adulthood I found myself gravitating toward children and was told on countless occasions that I was great with kids. People told me again and again that I would be a great mom, that it would be a crime against nature if I didn't have kids. People loved me with their kids and I loved watching kids and being a part of their lives. Particularly toddlers, all toddlers think I'm funny. I couldn't wait to get one of those. Man, an appreciative audience that goes wherever I go? Sounds good to me!
I have some friends who watched me struggle and who are still considering having kids without daddies in the city and far from family. PLEASE DON'T DO IT! I want to save you from a world of hurt. Even though you think you've seen it all by watching me, I guarantee that you haven't.
First is the loss of self. Just about every mother I've gotten close to has had a period of losing themselves in this new creature. I thought I knew myself pretty damn well and was certain that it wouldn't happen to me. I had a plan and a path. Well, the plan went up in flames and the path is now covered with weeds and brush that I now have to clear away. Some women have been lucky and found themselves through becoming a mommy. Good. I'm glad. But just as many lose themselves completely and some never come back. For me it was like my soul split in two and I could watch it outside of me, growing and getting stronger. Meanwhile the half that was left with me didn't have a chance to heal because it immediately got up and started caring for the newer half. In the first two weeks I had either my son or a breast pump hanging off of me 20 out of every 24 hours. I had cracked nipples, a ripped up vagina (in the words of my midwife "he really blew the barn doors off!"), a huge gut, swollen feet, and bags the size of potato sacks under my eyes. On top of all that, I was beginning to see that this was much bigger than I had anticipated and I had planned on it being gigantic and difficult. I could feel the roller coaster slowly clicking to the top of the hill, but it was way too late to get off.
Second is the loss of friends. You may think your single gal pals are going to help you, but they're not. They'll visit, maybe play house a bit and bring you a casserole and ooh and ahh at your new baby. Then they'll get bored and go away. They will not understand why this child is so all consuming and why you can't think about anything else. They will pressure you to get out and leave that child with someone, and you probably should get yourself a break but you will not be able to see the forest for the trees. Your urge to stay next to that tiny creature even when you are dying from lack of nourishment, attention, and sleep never really goes away. They won't understand it. They'll criticize you. They'll talk about you at their little girls' nights out over rounds of drinks. It's too bad what happened to so and so. She used to be so much fun and now she's all Betty Crocker and shit. They'll talk about the kind of parent you are and tell you what you should do. They'll tell you to ignore all of your better instincts and make you feel inferior if you do not agree. Eventually, most of them will disappear from your life until your child is in school. Then it will be too late to really repair the damage to your friendship.
If you don't have family or other friends with kids it becomes a full time job to try to build a support network. Other moms are crazy. Sometimes they (I include myself in this group) are so insecure that the mommy social scene mirrors your worst elementary school experiences. It takes time to find mommys who accept your methods and don't expect you to conform to theirs. The judgment among mommys (and women in general, I find) is thick and almost impenitrable. Everything from your child's clothes to what you eat to how late you stay at the playground is fair game. And even if you DO have other mommy friends and family you'll find that their judgments can be pretty harsh, too. From now until the day you die, you will be scrutinized and judged. If your toddler won't wear mittens or a hat (happens more often than not) strangers will stop to chastise you for being a bad mom. They don't think twice about it.
If you don't have support from a spouse (for whatever reason) you may want to shoot yourself at the end of the day. Oh, and the end of the day is 4:00, whether you like it or not. No one will understand that calling your house between the hours of 5:00 and 9:00 in verboeten because they don't understand that making a decent dinner and getting your child off to bed is an important routine that is harder to pull off than a cartwheel in a closet.
And there is never enough money. Want to take that $14.00 drop in yoga class to unwind? WRONG! Because you'll have to pay a sitter a minimum of $10 an hour which, if you take only the yoga class and hurry home will turn that $14.00 class into a $50.00 plus outing.
And any child care situation sucks. You can find the best nanny, the best day care, the best preschool, but you'll always wonder what the hell it is they are doing with your kid. This could be tolerable and, at some point even desirable if you can pay for it. But, as I stated above, there is never enough money and it is not easy to find a job that will allow you to keep your child as priority number one.
Men treat you differently. It freaks them out. Men who meet you after the kid have no reference point to the you before, but the fellas who knew you when get a little freaked out. Some take it much better than others, but some of them will always look at you funny. I imagine that look comes from serious sexual confusion. One minute they're imagining you in bed, then the image of you giving birth creeps in then they just don't know what to do with that. And if you are thinking about having a baby without the benefit of a partner, just know that finding a life mate after the fact is going to be that much harder.
I know you think you know all this stuff, but you don't. I keep going back to a conversation I had with a fellow park mommy a few years ago. She had been having a tiff with her husband over something or other that did not get done that particular day while he was at work. He said,
"I wish I could sit at the park all day and have coffee with my friends."
She replied,
"Yeah, it's great. It's only sucking the soul right out of my body."
I love my kid. I would not trade the experience I have had for the world. I would never want a life without my son. I'm finally getting myself back on track, but it has been the hardest, most painful experience of my life. I'd rather live through adolesence again. It makes my teenage years look like happy, happy, joy, joy. I'm all for motherhood. It is painful and difficult, but it is also wonderful and can bring such love to your life. I'm just saying, do it with your eyes open. Know what you are getting into. Prepare yourself, not just for childbirth, but for parenting. Be ready. Don't buy the mommy myth that having this loving little baby will fill you because it won't. It can't. Only YOU can fill you. I suggest you learn how to do that first and then you'll be ready.
I know I harp and whine about it a bit, but I really wish someone had made me understand what the hell that means. I figured the sleep deprivation, the vigilance that is required to keep an infant alive, time management and all of that would be hard. I understood that pregnancy was a strain on the body, but I was in good shape (Which is probably why I got pregnant in the first place). I had no fear of childbirth and was actually excited for that experience. I love being busy and I love taking care of people and I love hard work. I figured that I would be tired and maybe a little lonely, but I'd been through that before and thought the rewards would far outweigh the price I would have to pay. But no one warned me. No one told me that it's a soul sucking job that would leave me feeling more isolated and alone than I had ever felt in my life- and THAT'S saying something. No one told me the extent to which a child can drive a wedge in between two loving adults who had, up until that point, worked together as a perfect team.
I was also under the assumption that I was made for the job. Once I reached adulthood I found myself gravitating toward children and was told on countless occasions that I was great with kids. People told me again and again that I would be a great mom, that it would be a crime against nature if I didn't have kids. People loved me with their kids and I loved watching kids and being a part of their lives. Particularly toddlers, all toddlers think I'm funny. I couldn't wait to get one of those. Man, an appreciative audience that goes wherever I go? Sounds good to me!
I have some friends who watched me struggle and who are still considering having kids without daddies in the city and far from family. PLEASE DON'T DO IT! I want to save you from a world of hurt. Even though you think you've seen it all by watching me, I guarantee that you haven't.
First is the loss of self. Just about every mother I've gotten close to has had a period of losing themselves in this new creature. I thought I knew myself pretty damn well and was certain that it wouldn't happen to me. I had a plan and a path. Well, the plan went up in flames and the path is now covered with weeds and brush that I now have to clear away. Some women have been lucky and found themselves through becoming a mommy. Good. I'm glad. But just as many lose themselves completely and some never come back. For me it was like my soul split in two and I could watch it outside of me, growing and getting stronger. Meanwhile the half that was left with me didn't have a chance to heal because it immediately got up and started caring for the newer half. In the first two weeks I had either my son or a breast pump hanging off of me 20 out of every 24 hours. I had cracked nipples, a ripped up vagina (in the words of my midwife "he really blew the barn doors off!"), a huge gut, swollen feet, and bags the size of potato sacks under my eyes. On top of all that, I was beginning to see that this was much bigger than I had anticipated and I had planned on it being gigantic and difficult. I could feel the roller coaster slowly clicking to the top of the hill, but it was way too late to get off.
Second is the loss of friends. You may think your single gal pals are going to help you, but they're not. They'll visit, maybe play house a bit and bring you a casserole and ooh and ahh at your new baby. Then they'll get bored and go away. They will not understand why this child is so all consuming and why you can't think about anything else. They will pressure you to get out and leave that child with someone, and you probably should get yourself a break but you will not be able to see the forest for the trees. Your urge to stay next to that tiny creature even when you are dying from lack of nourishment, attention, and sleep never really goes away. They won't understand it. They'll criticize you. They'll talk about you at their little girls' nights out over rounds of drinks. It's too bad what happened to so and so. She used to be so much fun and now she's all Betty Crocker and shit. They'll talk about the kind of parent you are and tell you what you should do. They'll tell you to ignore all of your better instincts and make you feel inferior if you do not agree. Eventually, most of them will disappear from your life until your child is in school. Then it will be too late to really repair the damage to your friendship.
If you don't have family or other friends with kids it becomes a full time job to try to build a support network. Other moms are crazy. Sometimes they (I include myself in this group) are so insecure that the mommy social scene mirrors your worst elementary school experiences. It takes time to find mommys who accept your methods and don't expect you to conform to theirs. The judgment among mommys (and women in general, I find) is thick and almost impenitrable. Everything from your child's clothes to what you eat to how late you stay at the playground is fair game. And even if you DO have other mommy friends and family you'll find that their judgments can be pretty harsh, too. From now until the day you die, you will be scrutinized and judged. If your toddler won't wear mittens or a hat (happens more often than not) strangers will stop to chastise you for being a bad mom. They don't think twice about it.
If you don't have support from a spouse (for whatever reason) you may want to shoot yourself at the end of the day. Oh, and the end of the day is 4:00, whether you like it or not. No one will understand that calling your house between the hours of 5:00 and 9:00 in verboeten because they don't understand that making a decent dinner and getting your child off to bed is an important routine that is harder to pull off than a cartwheel in a closet.
And there is never enough money. Want to take that $14.00 drop in yoga class to unwind? WRONG! Because you'll have to pay a sitter a minimum of $10 an hour which, if you take only the yoga class and hurry home will turn that $14.00 class into a $50.00 plus outing.
And any child care situation sucks. You can find the best nanny, the best day care, the best preschool, but you'll always wonder what the hell it is they are doing with your kid. This could be tolerable and, at some point even desirable if you can pay for it. But, as I stated above, there is never enough money and it is not easy to find a job that will allow you to keep your child as priority number one.
Men treat you differently. It freaks them out. Men who meet you after the kid have no reference point to the you before, but the fellas who knew you when get a little freaked out. Some take it much better than others, but some of them will always look at you funny. I imagine that look comes from serious sexual confusion. One minute they're imagining you in bed, then the image of you giving birth creeps in then they just don't know what to do with that. And if you are thinking about having a baby without the benefit of a partner, just know that finding a life mate after the fact is going to be that much harder.
I know you think you know all this stuff, but you don't. I keep going back to a conversation I had with a fellow park mommy a few years ago. She had been having a tiff with her husband over something or other that did not get done that particular day while he was at work. He said,
"I wish I could sit at the park all day and have coffee with my friends."
She replied,
"Yeah, it's great. It's only sucking the soul right out of my body."
I love my kid. I would not trade the experience I have had for the world. I would never want a life without my son. I'm finally getting myself back on track, but it has been the hardest, most painful experience of my life. I'd rather live through adolesence again. It makes my teenage years look like happy, happy, joy, joy. I'm all for motherhood. It is painful and difficult, but it is also wonderful and can bring such love to your life. I'm just saying, do it with your eyes open. Know what you are getting into. Prepare yourself, not just for childbirth, but for parenting. Be ready. Don't buy the mommy myth that having this loving little baby will fill you because it won't. It can't. Only YOU can fill you. I suggest you learn how to do that first and then you'll be ready.
posted by Bree O'Connor at 1:31 PM
5 Comments:
What she said.
Glad you are trying to educate the masses... someone needs to do it. I wish I had understood even one tenth of this 6 years ago.
Do you think it is possible it can get through? I am a bit pessimistic. Mostly because I re-read what I have written and it doesn't even come close to fully explaining what it IS. And how can that inadequate description of reality compete with all the lovely pictures of glowing celebrity moms and their fashionable nurseries? After all, what is a baby but another excuse to CONSUME? Everything will be okay if I can just get those Ralph Lauren baby wipes, right?
I just hope that they don't do anything stupid because I don't have the heart to stand there and say "I told you so".
Now, I may not be a mom, but I play one on TV. Ok, maybe not, but the dad flipside has a similar impact (at least in my world).
I think that being a parent is one of those things that can only be truly learned from experience. No matter how much you "warn" the childless, the impact of having a child is always dramatically felt.
Really, as you said, what it really boils down to is making yourself #2 (or #3, or lower). Raising a child inherently is a "self-less" act, as the welfare and well-being of the child is paramount to anything else you do. And it's not an easy or quick transition to make, especially if you are vital, independant, and strong-willed (or, gasp, a selfish person). But it's self-less in a way that is completely rewarding in ways that people without kids might not be able to imagine. Again, you have to experience it to really comprehend and feel how gratifying it is to watch your child become his/her own little self.
The slight terror of it is that having a child is not only the most time consuming, draining, rewarding thing you'll do. But probably the most important, as the responsibility of it is sometimes overwhelming if you stop and think about it to long.
And yet, it happens every day. New couples (or individuals) have babies. Some are more prepared than others, some have support systems, some fail. And while it's nearly impossible to impress the impact of having a child on those who have yet experienced, at least we can try. Then we can always resist the tempation to say we told them so. :)
Well, I know that no one could have told me what to expect. And I doubt I would have believed them. But I wish someone had really tried. But then, I wish that about many things in my life right now.
Sing it sistah.
What gets me is that the rewards are glamorous. We've a hint of the rewards. We may not have a full appreciation of those rewards when we don't have kids but when we think about babies we know those rewards are coming. It's the stuff that no one tells you until it is way too late that worries me. I think women get snowed into thinking that having a baby will complete them and give them a sense of purpose. I won't deny that for some women it will, but its a crap shoot. Like I said before, a baby can't fill you. No one outside of yourself can make you "complete" and I think the romance of motherhood sends a lot of women hurtling into despair when they discover just how hard it is. Then, what breaks my heart about this is that it is the child that pays for that misinformation. So many women I know are willing to have a child in a situation that does not serve either the mother or the child. I am white knuckled as I watch these friends battle their biological clocks. I don't want to deny them the joys of a child- I want to save them from the loneliness and the pain of not having a fully supportive help mate. I don't care if it's a husband, a sister, a grandparent, whatever, it is beyond helpful to have a partner living in the same house with you when that child comes into this world. It is even better when that partner is a functional human being who can provide love and support. I can't imagine doing it alone. I've seen it done. Hell, I've even seen it done well. But it is painful, isolating, and frightening. No one really talks about that because it seems as if you are saying your children weren't worth it. That's not true. In any conversation it should just be a given that you love your kids so that we can get to the cruxt of the issue.
There is always that horrible and bittersweet day when you hold that perfect little creature in your arms and you love that child so much. That child is pure potential, distilled greatness drooling on your shirt. That's wonderful. Then you realize that you will have to teach this piece of heaven to suck it up and move on, that some day everything we know and love will pass on, that sometimes people are heartless and cruel to one another, that there are horrors in this world. You're right, that responsibility is huge and it takes a certain kind of faith to teach your child how to survive and still find hope and beauty in the world. Maybe you can't ever let the aspiring parents of the world understand the magnitude of that choice. But I would consider myself a rotten mother and a terrible friend if I didn't try.
Post a Comment
<< Home