I feel so frustrated at the moment because I am just never, never getting time to write here properly. All will get better soon when I get through some deadlines but in the meantime I wanted to prove to you that, you know, I actually used to write my thoughts and feelings here on this blog and not just post links and photos. So I’m re-posting a few posts of mine. Also, some of you new readers said that you kind of like it when I retrieve something from the archives so here, this is from way back when I was a very nervous nellie and I was a brand new mother and I found myself with a bad case of anxiety and a colicky baby, and I couldn’t get myself the fuck out of my house. If you’re a new mother then you must trust me on this, your very survival depends upon you getting the fuck out of your house. If you’re struggling with getting out of the house then you’re the person who especially needs to get out of the house. Trust me on this, you have to conquer this fear. Embrace the chaos, the unexpected, the unpredictable, the mess of your life. If you’re in any way struggling with the transition to motherhood then you need a bit of normality urgently – and your regular-normal self used to leave the house and do things out there in the world. If you’re struggling with this motherhood thing then you need a little distance from your four walls, a little perspective on your life, and to get that you need to leave the house. Yes, you will have to take the baby with you I’m afraid. The sooner you learn how to get your regular-normal self back with a baby alongside you, the better. Take the baby, leave the house, prove to yourself that the regular-normal life of yours is still possible. Give yourself this, you need it.
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There is a strange conspiracy of silence among mothers. Entering motherhood is the most intense, all-consuming experience of your life and you’d think all mothers would be wanting to talk about that.. just a little. But I often struck a wall of silence disguised with cheerful veneer. In the first six months whenever someone told me how much I was loving motherhood I gave them a pained smile.
- Yes its really wonderful, I love it. But its pretty hard, yeah its actually very hard.
People responded in one of two ways. They either looked uncomfortable -”ohmygod she must have post natal depression” or they scoffed at my statement – “its the most beautiful time of a woman’s life” etc etc. One day I decided that it was time to stop telling the truth to strangers, I had to learn to perfect the cheerful veneer.
But you expect more of mothers. After the first few weeks of Lauca’s life I joined a breastfeeding mothers’ group. It was a good decision in many ways. I was completely frozen with fear about leaving the house with my baby. So overwhelming were the logistics of packing for a baby and the unpredictability of a baby’s behaviour that I actually wanted to be a shut-in. She’d just been fed but who knew if she’d erupt in hungry fury ten minutes into a grocery shopping trip and then what? She poos her nappy and it leaks through her clothes and I’m in a coffee shop, what do I do? These questions were just about beyond me.
My mother and mother-in-law implored me to confront these fears. So I spent a fortnight planning my first outing. The breastfeeding group met at a hall within walking distance of my house. Perfect, no horrific car trips with screaming babies. Everyone had to bring a plate which just about intimidated me enough not to come but as it turned out I passed a bakery right on the way. Most mothers brought home-made goodies but my bakery-bought mini-muffins did fine.
The breastfeeders group was a sanctuary. None of the mothers were annoyed if my baby cried the whole time and no-one was offended if I breastfed her brazenly, or for that matter if I had trouble attaching her, as happened in those early days and I had to fiddle around for a few minutes with breast exposed. Were they zealots? Well, yes a little. Being political and providing a support service are difficult objectives to fulfill simultaneously. (As a feminist I think the abortion movement also experiences this conflict but I digress). I saw one enthusiastic breastfeeder mortified to be told that at three months of age her baby was in fact being weaned because she had introduced one bottlefeed in her 24 hour schedule of breastfeeds. Technically correct but a little devastating for the mother involved.
The group was well resourced and well organised but it was run by a bunch of Pollyannas. I don’t want to be too down on Do-Gooders, after all Do-Gooders do good, but rather than talk about anything too heavy in our group the discussions centred around empty subjects like your favourite family recipe or even on one occasion – naming an important object in your handbag. Round the circle we went, each stating an item. Occasionally a mother revealed the tiniest glimpse into her life outside parenting and rather than saying nappy wipes she’d nominate something like her lipstick. I thought about saying that I had a gun in my handbag just to break this stupor. I never wanted to swear so much in my life.
- Everybody STOP! Let’s not talk about what’s in the fucking handbag, let’s talk about what’s inside our fucking heads?!
But I didn’t.
I don’t know what I nominated, it was too innocuous to remember. And maybe its just as well because two other really special things happened instead. For the first time ever my baby fell asleep in my arms. I wasn’t breastfeeding her, I wasn’t rocking her, I wasn’t jiggling her, I wasn’t patting her, I wasn’t pacing the floors and, I wasn’t shussing her to remind her of the gentle sounds of the womb. I wasn’t even paying attention to her. I was standing there talking to another mother and so relaxed were my baby and I (for the first time in weeks) that she simply fell asleep in my arms.
The mother and I discovered that our babies were born within days of each other and that we lived close enough to one another to meet for an afternoon walk. This was enough to inspire a Mummy Date. Over time I found her to be a lovely woman. It helped our bond that one day she confessed to me that had she not met me that day at the meeting she would have stopped going to the mothers’ group because she couldn’t get a real conversation with any of them. And oh my, someone else who wants to talk about the real things!
What an excellent post! I was effectively a shut-in for the first year…the beginning of a downward spiral that I’m just now (4 1/2 years later) coming out of. So glad you found a friend there. I found mine in an AP group. And three cheers for ending the conspiracy of silence! At the risk of bursting everyone’s bubble, I have made it my mission to do so and it feels very liberating!
The first year of motherhood KICKED MY ASS. I had trouble leaving the house by myself because kidlet HATED the car. So if I couldn’t walk there, I would just stay home. I did walk a lot – I knew a woman who lived near-ish to me, and we would meet and walk once or twice a week – but we didn’t really have anything in common, besides our children, so it was hard to gather any momentum.
It’s only been in the last 6 months that I’ve started to feel more human (kidlet is 19mos.) and I think that only happened because I started back to work, and kidlet is in daycare a few days a week.
I’m glad you found a friend. I would think that would have helped IMMENSELY for me.
I will never forget going to a meeting of mothers in a nearby park with my then-two-month-old. They looked at me in astonishment & said things like, “Wow! You’re so brave! I didn’t leave the house for the first six months.” And I felt, on one hand, relieved to hear that this, in fact, was a difficult thing for everyone to do (not just me), and on the other hand, the thought of staying home for months sent this cold chill down my spine. To this day (he’s nine months old), leaving the house is still intimidating, but It Has Saved My Sanity. No doubt in my mind. He is a different baby on the outside (prison reference intended), and I am a better mom.
Yes the superficial conversations of mother/parent groups was utterly depressing for me. I went from being part of a dynamic academic community to sitting around with glazed smiles talking about superficial crap. More often than not my husband would find me in tears after one of those meetings. They made me feel like I was losing myself more than being with my baby did.
It was so difficult to talk about anything other than the superficial. I think that comes from two factors: 1) It takes a while to become friends with people yet there is that assumption that because we all have babies we ought to be friends and we ought to be friends fast. The difficulty with mothering is that is hard to find the time to build up friendship in that slow, organic way that we traditionally have. So when we can’t form quick connections it is frustrating; and 2) Sometimes it is just too damn hard to make anything other than superficial conversation when you have a wriggling, crying creatures in your arms.
Oh Good Heavens I wish I read at least the introduction to this post when I first had my baby! When I finally dragged myself to a momma group I was so overwhelmed, when someone aked me how things were going I actually broke down and started crying right there in front of all these women who seems to have this mothering thing down. A bit humiliating yes, but they were all very kind and empathetic. If the location hadn’t been so far and inconvenient to get to I would have returned more often.
I had a similar experience, and I am so sorry you had yours!
Another minor humilation – massive typos in a blog comment due to the allergy-ridden fog that my brain is in.
:-f
Hello Blue Milk! So glad I somehow meandered into your blog–it’s been a long time. How could I resist the gun in the handbag? As you know, this is my fvorite topic, the silence of the lambs, er, mothers, so I really love this post! Re-posting is cool, I do it occasionally and even happened by chance to repost a poem today. Think I’ll start doing more of it.
Carry on!
Argh… I hate to be That Person, but I think I have to be on this one. I was sick from blood loss after giving birth (I’ve only done this once). I had picked up this advice from several places, that I had to get out out out and be normal normal normal or else I was dooming myself to Never Leaving the House Again. I made myself sicker and I really stressed my poor newborn (I mean literally neonate here, he was about a week old when I started forcing this) out, he was definitely a homebody in that early phase. So… I guess I’d say that it’s possible to strive for normality excessively and that sometimes a particular mother’s survival is probably better served by spending a few extra days or weeks in bed (where possible, and I realise often it isn’t: my mother cooked, shopped and cleaned from immediate post-partum onwards). Depends on the mother.
Ah the list of mistakes you can make the first time, it’s pretty comprehensive.
Onto the entry itself: glad you and your mother date found each other just in time. And that Lauca timed her new-found sleep skills for a good moment.
My difficulty finding mother friends has been so profound that I haven’t actually had this experience. What do mothers talk about with each other? I have no idea. Despite several attempts, I didn’t have a significant conversation with anyone outside my family until I went back to university. Thank goodness for online conversations.
Fair point.
- I wished we lived in the same city, I’d be your off-line mother friend, with bells on.
We moved overseas shortly after the birth of our daughter, so I had no choice but to get over my fear of leaving the house. I joined a playgroup with other expats and for the most part listened to them complain about not being in the US. (I love living overseas and this city is a lot easier than the previous city we were living in, so I had little patience for the hardship talk here. It’s different, but it’s not that hard.) But one of the best things I heard from a woman who unfortunately moved away after my first meeting, was that she was a midwife who had been giving women breastfeeding advice for years, but after finally having her own baby she discovered that she hated breastfeeding. I felt like I’d found a soul mate of sorts, because I hated it too.
Leaving the house was the best thing ever. It turns out, I have an extremely social baby, just like her dad. She is bored and cranky on the days we don’t go out.
One of my problems is that I’ve never had a lot of female friends. To suddenly be forced into finding mother friends, not just female friends, in a foreign country, has been daunting. As a new mom I need someone to talk baby stuff with, but I don’t want it to be the only thing we have in common.