I was out with a friend and we were talking about the importance of being real with each other as moms. Recently having a birthday, she asked me if it was nice. I paused, and said frankly but honestly, “no.” with a smile. We shared a laugh – that kind of laugh that says “I understand, and it’s fine, and this is what it is to be a mom”.
In our culture, women are often taught to be nice, to be strong, to be super moms. But this isn’t authentic. When we aren’t honest about our struggles, we are putting up walls against each other. Mothers, especially first time mothers, are faced with terrific trials and periods of weakness, but so often we smooth over it with our friends by saying things are fine, the baby is sleeping well, the toddler is integrating into this new phase of life without trouble.
When we minimize trials, we perpetuate the issue. I read a study that, feeling pressure to appear as perfect parents, 62% of parents admitted to lying about how well their infant sleeps. When the parents you look to for advice embellish the truth about the challenges of parenting, you have no support system. This is isolating, and this is inauthentic.
I remember my first trip out of the house with Eli. In a vain attempt to improve my mood, we had travelled to Target. I was shellshocked; my body was aching with the memo that it was time to feed the baby, and, terrified that he would start screaming I looked around frantically for a private spot to sit. A woman with spiky, highlighted hair, cloaked in a stylists gown and clutching a huge coffee between her long, painted nails approached me wildly and pressed her face into Eli’s.
“Oh… my… GAWD.” she said, launching into stories about her own four children. “Enjoy every moment”, she said, “because it goes by so fast.”
I stood there, stunned. I wasn’t enjoying every moment. I wasn’t enjoying most moments. It didn’t feel like it was going by fast to me; in fact, it was the longest two months of my life. Hours stretched out like years on the horizon, flat and drab and full of tears and worries. My only alone time in the shower was spent crying, waiting for the kid to be bigger, waiting to feel like myself again. I loved this little newborn, but I lost myself somewhere along the way.
Parenting is not always enjoyable, and you won’t enjoy every moment, and that’s OK. Some days are sad. Some days are tough. Some days I want to get into my car and drive away from my family and just say, “See you later! Dinner’s in the fridge!” Instead of telling me to enjoy every moment, I wish someone had looked at me, a small shell of a woman with sadness and dark circles under my eyes and said, “It’s hard. But it gets better.”
It does get better. And in those periods of trial there are glimmers of light. There are newborn smiles and laughs with friends and moments with your partner where you realize you are looking directly into the face of the divine, you’ve come together to create this amazing little creature and you feel so much warmth and love and it brings you to your knees. When parents tell you to enjoy every moment, I’m sure they are recalling the amazing connection between mom and babe, a connection that’s so raw and powerful that it suspends you temporarily between worlds, in its own space. That connection with your child doesn’t go away, but it morphs and evolves as your child grows older, and that space where newborn and mom exist purely together in timelessness, two bodies but one unit, slowly falls out of reach.
It’s important that we moms are honest with one another. My fears that I was doing everything wrong when Eli was a newborn were crushing, and the message was continually reinforced in online forums, by strangers, by social media that every moment of parenting should be pure bliss, that my baby should be sleeping better, that I should be feeling healthier than I was. In my vulnerable state, it felt like there was no room for anything but perfect parenting and supermoms, and I wasn’t sure how or where to fit in. I’m challenging myself, and I’m challenging you, to practice the art of honesty with your friends and mom tribes. If we aren’t authentic with each other, we don’t have real relationships. If we aren’t authentic with each other, we aren’t supporting each other. And in the end, isn’t supporting, upholding, and loving each other the goal?
[…] else. I won’t say “I’m sick” only to later be caught having coffee with another friend. Honesty. Yep, I got […]
I cannot express in words how helpful this blog was for me… thank you for your honesty. Thank you for making me feel normal 🙂
Jamey, I’m so glad to hear that! Parenting is a high calling – keep your chin up 🙂
Loved this article. I relate 100%. Thanks for sharing and spreading the word.
great post and so very true.
honestly liss, when i read your writing, i just keep thinking about my sister saying, ‘why can’t you write like your friend from home?’
I’m stunned by your writing and I swear to god i am the world’s biggest critic/bitch when it comes to other peoples writing.
I shared this one, and I don’t share much, and I love you!!!
love you. Can’t wait to see you.
oh, and, speaking of honesty, I LOVE anna’s honesty.
thanks Nissa :)“
Beautifully written and I whole-heartedly agree!