filling the silence in the motherhood discussion
Graduation season is upon us and, even though this year is very different for many grads, social media has been abuzz with snapshots of proud parents and their offspring. So it seems like a good time for this week’s Whiny Wednesday topic:
Feeling left out when friends and relatives celebrate parenting milestones.
As always, your other whines are always welcome.
A friend of mine went through infertility hell a few years ago. When we learned of one another’s journeys, we were both glad to have an empathetic shoulder to lean on.
Then she became a mother, and developed infertility amnesia.
I’m not begrudging her the celebrations, the constant Facebook posts, or the incessant parenting talk. I get it; I’m sure I’d do the same in her situation. But the final straw came last week.
A group of us gets together about once a year and we’re starting to plan for this year. We usually go out for dinner, or bowling, or drinks and dancing. Several of us in the group don’t have children and those who do are always glad for a childfree night of adult fun.
This year, the new mom suggested we change things up and do something family-oriented and include the kids. “Maybe a beach picnic or Disneyland.” I kid you not.
Thankfully one of the other parents shot the idea down, but I had to wonder how she would have felt five years ago, in the thick of her infertility hell, if someone had made this same suggestion.
She would have felt excluded and she would have been upset. Which is just how I felt when I got her email.
Today is Whiny Wednesday. Who or what has done you wrong this week?
“I take pleasure in my transformations. I look quiet and consistent, but few know how many women there are in me.”
~Anaïs Nin
There’s an idea going around that not having children somehow makes us “less of a woman.” I don’t subscribe to this idea.
As this quote by author Anaïs Nin states, I am many, many women, and “mother” is only one element of me.
I am a writer, friend, wife, cat mama, reader, thinker, curser, fighter, nature-lover, spider catcher, traveler, cook, gardener, daughter.
All these women are fluid. They ebb and flow in me as needed. And when one of them isn’t able to fulfill her purpose, the others quickly rally to fill the gap, so I am always whole.
I am never less of a woman.
This week’s Whiny Wednesday topic comes from a reader and is ripe for a rant and perhaps some ideas.
She writes:
“I still haven’t figured out how to make friends with people my own age (40s) who have children. I often feel disposable, or okay to invite to things when it suits them. I’m a thoughtful, caring person who deserves better.”
What do you think about this? It’s Whiny Wednesday, so let it all out.
There was a time when I found it difficult to be around mothers of young children. It was hard to listen to them talk about their kids when I felt I had nothing to contribute, and it was painful to know that I’d never be able to share those experiences with them. I couldn’t bear to hear their sweet or funny stories, and it made my blood boil to hear them complain. What I wouldn’t have given for the chance to be kept awake all night by a colicky baby.
As I’ve progressed on my journey and begun to heal, it’s become easier for me to spend time with mothers, to listen to their stories, to speak up when I have something to add, and even to commiserate about the hard stuff, without feeling resentful.
I’m listening to what they say about motherhood and I’m hearing a common theme: Motherhood chips away at them until they lose touch with the women they once were. They love their children, they love being mothers, but they resent how all-consuming the job is and how much of themselves they lose to their families, until they know longer know who they are.
There are always two sides to every story, pros and cons, gains and losses. When we don’t get something we want and deserve, it’s easy to focus on what’s lost—the experiences, the opportunities, and the stories we won’t get to tell. But what about what’s gained? And what about what’s not lost? What about the sacrifices we didn’t have to make and the women we now get to be?
I may not be the woman I’d once hoped to be—a mother—but I know who I am now, and a part of me is grateful for what I didn’t have to lose: myself.
This week’s Whiny Wednesday topic is that old chestnut:
The baby shower!
A reader wrote:
I would like to know how others handle baby showers. I have vowed to not go to any more baby showers after leaving the last one in tears and disappointed in myself because I felt so strong before I went. Do others have emotional issues about other people’s baby showers or am I alone?
After assuring her that she definitely was not alone in feeling this way, I thought I’d turn the topic over to you. And I’m adding to it the newest horror, the gender reveal party.
Please whine, rant, empathize, and even advise on this most delicate of topics.
Thanks to those of you who suggested Whiny Wednesday topics. If there’s something we haven’t covered yet, feel free to drop me a line.
This week’s whiny topic is:
“This happened because I am not worthy of being a mother .”
I think this falls into the same category as “I must have done something to deserve this” and “God/the Universe/fate must have other plans for me.”
Have you had these thoughts? Did you believe them?
As always, other whines are welcome. It is Whiny Wednesday after all.
Graduation season is upon us and social media has been abuzz with snapshots of proud parents and their offspring. So it seems like a good time for this week’s Whiny Wednesday topic:
Feeling left out when friends and relatives celebrate parenting milestones.
As always, your other whines are always welcome.
A friend of mine went through infertility hell a few years ago. When we learned of one another’s journeys, we were both glad to have an empathetic shoulder to lean on.
Then she became a mother, and developed infertility amnesia.
I’m not begrudging her the celebrations, the constant Facebook posts, or the incessant parenting talk. I get it; I’m sure I’d do the same in her situation. But the final straw came last week.
A group of us gets together about once a year and we’re starting to plan for this year. We usually go out for dinner, or bowling, or drinks and dancing. Several of us in the group don’t have children and those who do are always glad for a childfree night of adult fun.
This year, the new mom suggested we change things up and do something family-oriented and include the kids. “Maybe a beach picnic or Disneyland.” I kid you not.
Thankfully one of the other parents shot the idea down, but I had to wonder how she would have felt five years ago, in the thick of her infertility hell, if someone had made this same suggestion.
She would have felt excluded and she would have been upset. Which is just how I felt when I got her email.
Today is Whiny Wednesday. Who or what has done you wrong this week?
~ "a raw, transparent account of the gut-wrenching journey of infertility."
~ "a welcome sanity check for women left to wonder how society became so fixated on motherhood."
