By Lisa Manterfield
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.
I had a baby after being told that I was infertile. I was very happy about it, but I realize that you will lose some part of yourself in the process. Once you are labeled as “Mom,” that is a role you play rather than your own identity. The next thing you know all of your conversations are about things pertaining to your kids rather than about your interests and passions. In some cases, Moms don’t even have energy to have interests, dreams and passions. I try hard not to fall into this trap, but I see it a lot in other people (moms and dads). I realize why so many great female writers and artists never had kids.
I think that this is a somewhat taboo topic, since people feel really guilty about the types of negative feelings that moms can have. In this day of Facebook perfection, it is hard to admit how people are really feeling.
Lovely post Lisa – good to remember the different ways of looking at situations so that what is lost is not the only thoughts and feelings that surface but some encouraging ones too. Will help me to keep things in perspective when I am next in a difficult situation.
Thank you for the inspiration and encouragement, Lisa! I’ve definitely found that “the gift” of my childlessness is knowing myself better and having the chance to begin to heal–not only the emotional wound of infertility–but other life wounds, as well. I also have the opportunity to know my husband and other loved ones more deeply than I would, otherwise. Further, I have time to “parent myself” in important ways (body, mind, and spirit). Sometimes, I do ache terribly to focus all of that attention on a child, but I am also increasingly grateful for having not lost myself in the ways that you describe.
Hi Jane and Andrea,
I’m glad this post resonated with you. It can take some time to find any kind of silver lining and it’s so easy to get stuck in what we don’t have. Glad you’re both able to see the other side.
~Lisa
Nicely said. I agree completely. Seeing and appreciating the other side – and not feeling guilty about it – confirms to us that we will be okay after all.
I do see the other side but the mothers I know would not trade places with me for anything. I hear them complain but at the same time they say they wouldn’t trade it for the world. When I read a post on social media from a parent to their kids telling them how much they love them, my heart briefly stops because I know I will never know that kind of love.
Hi Sherry – I do feel the same alot of the time. The sad fact is that we wouldn’t trade places either if we had had the choice. We never had the choice and for some of us we believed for so long that our time would come. I’m still not sure who I am knowing now that I will never be a Mum but given all the complaining – there must be lots of things we do have that we may otherwise have missed. I’m certain the love of my husband runs deeper than if we had been distracted by children and we certainly have alot of shared time together. Trips to the gym (we spin and combat together every week), holidays, popping out for a coffee on a sunday. I understand the social media difficulties and havn’t found the way to square that one just yet – currently I do not log on to facebook. I check this site and I’m reading Silent Soriety – I’m gearing up to do Lisa’s worksheet but know I’m not quite ready. I’m finding solace in planning trips with friends (this is mostly avoiding the company of mums – only what I cannot avoid at work)! Whatever works and gives you some peace.