The Mother & the Individual

Posted on January 20, 2013 by Ashley

My headspace has been weird (unfamilar, sometimes scary) these days, for number of complex reasons. I think the most notable is that as I take more control over my life and my self, I become more uncomfortable with the disconnect between woman I am, versus the woman I always expected I would be.

I’m at odds with the fact that I don’t want a shiny new baby in the immediate future. Maybe never again. I have been defining myself as a mother since I was old enough to menstruate (just, you know; mother-in-waiting). I wanted to be married and covered in piles of children pretty much as soon as possible. I say without irony or humor that I wanted to be married right out high school.

And I have been seeking that holy grail for a couple years now: sufficiently successful enough for a second child. For a long time I mourned Miles only-child status. I didn’t understand why our committee votes were divided on the topic of a second child. I mean, have you seen me with a baby? I exude motherhood like more fortunate people exude bad-ass:

I knew this baby for about 2 hours and look at me.

I mean, I am smack dab in baby nirvana there. And every time Miles plays with a baby doll or asks after baby sister, I swear my uterus softens. Hand my husband a baby? Bitch, both ovaries just dropped eggs at the thought.

The truth is, I’m very maternal. I desperately want a full house; I keep my friends as a very close family unit. (Thankfully, they tolerate that nonsense.) I’m never happier than during busy, messy family visits. Taking care of other people is something I’m good at when I choose to. And being a mother isn’t a choice, not after the initial, “Hey, pump a baby in me,” decision has been made.

I have days where maternal instinct leaves me, but I can’t turn Miles off. Its not like I can call and say, “Sorry, kid, I’m just having a rough day.” My job is to nurture him all the time, to guide him to self-sufficiency, and sometimes I resent that. That he’s as cool a kid he is has a lot more to do with his natural awesome than my ability to parent. I am a loving mother, except when I’m not. But even when I’m not, I love him more than anything else.

The narrative of the mother is so wrapped up in sacrifice, so much that its come full circle; we mock the idea but modify it with things like, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” We use the concept to make catchy commercials. Because while being a mother is supposed to be a conflict of our individual and parental identities, we’re expected to come to the conclusion that being a mother is fulfilling enough to make up for what we lose.

Now that Miles is almost four, I have a lot more individual autonomy than I did when he was a baby. Some of this is more marked in that I have a pronounced social group, and do more individual things. Some of it is simply that I am more actualized now than I was at 22. (Its a delightful irony that becoming a mother is a significant part of me realizing myself as a woman.) I crave a lot from life. I want a lot of things, many that I’ll never have. (I WILL NEVER BE GYMNAST.<InsideJoke>)

But I do not want another baby. Maybe in five, ten years I’ll change my mind; maybe the committee will vote yes for more babies. Maybe we’ll adopt a five year old. But for now, I want a life that won’t devour me. I want an identity.

I want to be me.

http://momvsmarathon.sanitydepartment.com/ Kerrie

I’m sort of going through the same thing. My son is 4-1/2. But almost the opposite. I thought I would have some impressive job by now, and know where I’m going with my life. But now I’m realizing that maybe I am happy being a mom and not going for the fancy job.
- http://www.domesticchaos.com Ashley
  
  I’m not sure where I thought we’d be at this point, though I always thought we’d be on more stable footing financially. And we get closer every year, I suppose, but I’m sometimes frustrated by it.
  
  I think my favorite thing about motherhood is how its this shared experience that we’re all doing differently. <3
http://www.facebook.com/misty.nuckolls Misty Nuckolls

Ah, babe. I don’t have to tell you that “motherhood and individuality” is not a binary proposition. I didn’t grow up wanting to be a mother, but by the time I was, I had been wanting it pretty much exclusively for a while. THIS, I was certain, was all I really needed to do and be.
After a few years when I realized that holy crap, I am bored and frustrated and lonely and depressed, I had to make a major shift in the way I thought about motherhood, and myself. HAD to, because I was very close to going off the rails and wrecking my life, and my family, in the process.
Since I started college, my house is filthy. I rarely cook. Wendy spends way too much time in front of the TV. I don’t sleep enough and my temper is often very, very short.
But dammit, despite all these things, I am a better mother, because I feel more like a whole PERSON. Mothers aren’t nurturebots, they are people who nurture, as well as DO A WHOLE LOT OF OTHER THINGS.
Figure out what other things you’re missing. Start filling those needs and you won’t be able to HELP but be a better mother. (Not that you’re not an awesome mother right now, but the whole “everything I do must be in the service of my children somehow” cognitive script is one I’m only too familiar with, and I suspect you run it once in a while yourself.)