Ask a Middle-Aged Lady Mom:
What if I hate being a mom?
Q: I’m not one of those people who always knew they wanted to be a mom so imagine my surprise when I became one. I’m months into this motherhood thing and it’s not…how do I say this…clicking for me. I don’t feel bonded with this baby which of course makes me feel like a terrible mother who doesn’t deserve to even have this child. I’m not comfortable doing any of the “basic” tasks like diapering or feeding. Nothing is coming easy. I don’t want to be alone with my child which I’m pretty sure is not normal. I feel anxious all the time and don’t want to admit any of this to anyone (especially my partner who seems to have taken to parenthood so naturally) because I’m afraid of being judged. I secretly miss my old “pre-child” life too, which again makes me a terrible mom and person. Who thinks like that when they have been blessed with such an amazing gift!? I’m doomed, aren’t I? Clearly my kid is.
A: Oh this question makes me want to cry like a hormonal, leaky, creaky new mom who just soaked through her last pair of hospital-issued mesh panties. Gosh, I loved those panties. I really did. But, girl, I feel you. Girl, I was you. So was almost every other mom that ever was. Can we just stop pretending it’s all roses and unicorn farts? (There are definitely farts, but unless that unicorn has the innards of a decaying, mutant trash panda, they aren’t coming from her.)
First, wipe those figurative and/or literal tears off your cheeks, you precious angel kitten. You’re a mom now. You aren’t allowed to show vulnerability! KIDDING1. Just like what I said to that neatly tucked away bin of maternity clothes when I came home from the hospital post-birth: guess we’ve got some unpacking to do.
Let’s break it down, shall we?
“I’m not one of those people who always wanted to be a mom.” Ew, me either! Never really liked kids. Babysat for one summer and only had eyes for the family’s MTV. But there was also a time when I didn’t want Brussel sprouts and now I can’t get enough of them. I also used to hate taking showers and naps and being forced to spend every weekend on my father’s boat. No one really invites me to spend weekends on boats anymore, but I am pretty certain I would love it. I definitely love taking showers and naps. Point is, people change and you most likely will too. You may not be sold on this whole motherhood bill of goods right now because let’s be honest— it’s pretty shitty. There’s not a whole lot to love right off the bat. Maybe you just have very discerning taste, which is not a bad thing. It’s not you, it’s them.
“I don’t feel bonded with this baby.” Well, why should you? That baby is a stranger! Just because they may have lived in your body or is currently wearing a cute onesie proclaiming they are bananas for you doesn’t guarantee love at first site. It doesn’t work that way, kid. These things take time. It’s a slow build.
I too heard the stories about white lights and hearts exploding the first time you lay eyes on your child. I thought an actual angel would flit down from the heavens and high-five me upon hearing the sounds of my infant’s first cries. I was told I would do anything for this tiny human. That I would love and protect it against all else. In fact, I was promised these things. Know my first thought was when I saw my baby boy at last? Wow, that is an aggressive hairline! And my second thought? I am so tired, goodnight! Am I supposed to commemorate that shit in his baby book? NO! He doesn’t even have a baby book!
I did not bond with my son right away. I too was terrified to be left alone with him (uncanny how similar our stories are.) It takes time to form a connection, but like a baby’s receding hairline, I can almost guarantee it will happen. (I can also almost guarantee that the love is already there— it’s just buried under the rubble of doubt and anxiety.) In fact today— ten years and change since meeting that 7 pound pile of goo in the flesh— I walked past a framed photo of him as a toddler dressed in a bee costume and picked it up, cradled it to my bosom, and nearly passed out from all the love in my heart. THAT’S MY BABY!!! What a dopey, jackassy thing to say, right? But I’ve had years to get to know this kid. They grow on you.
“I’m not comfortable doing any of the “basic” tasks like diapering or feeding.” Okay, who is? And there is nothing “basic” about newborn care! Everyone makes babies seem so fragile. (Who does their PR? Give me some of that wobbly-legged, defenseless energy.) Why would anyone be comfortable guiding that teeny arm through a teeny armhole? You could smash their pelvis to dust with a dime size squirt of rash cream! Don’t believe the hype! They’re much hardier than they look and act. Practice makes perfect and you’ll have 127 tries a day to perfect your diapering skills. Also YouTube is a godsend when it comes to swaddling. As for the feeding, I’m guessing you’re talking about breastfeeding which is the most unnatural natural thing in the world. I had a doula, nursing consultant, tongue-tie specialist, cranium sacrum massage therapist, and forty-seven pounds of those lactation cookies and still had supply issues. (It was his latch! See? It’s not us, it is them!) There’s a reason so many resources are available to help, which is great, but also points to the obvious issue here— IT IS REALLY HARD!
“I don’t want to be alone with my child” I don’t know if it’s “normal” but it’s certainly not uncommon. (Newborns aren’t great company.) If you don’t want to be alone with your child, don’t be. Answer one of those, “How you doing? How can I help?” texts with “Get your ass over here and bring me lunch!” You get a seared tofu sandwich and company and your loved ones get to feel like they’re helping.
“I don’t want to admit any of this to anyone.” Here is the biggest problem and it’s not originating from you, my beautiful butterfly. You are suffering because of a lie perpetrated for thousands of years. Misery loves company, and no one is more miserable than a new parent. The whole world is lying about how great babies are. (Again— who does their damn PR?) Either that or new parents have undergone some Eternal Sunshine mind-erasing process to prevent them from scaring childless people into celibacy and eliminating the human race. Either way, please stop telling new moms how much they’re going to love being mothers. Please stop making moms feel like there is something wrong with them if their maternal instinct doesn’t kick in right away. Please stop forgetting to ask how the she is doing after the baby arrives. Let’s make mom’s mental health and well-being a regular part of her postpartum care. And I’m not talking about that Buzzfeed-esque quiz the doctor has you fill out in the waiting room while waiting for your six-week checkup to begin. Yes, I have felt helpless! Yes, I blame myself when something goes wrong! No, I do not find the funny side of things! I haven’t laughed in six hundred and twelve hours! Here’s the hard part: you have2 to admit it to someone. Talking about it does wonders. (I already feel better, thank you so much!) And you’re helping to normalize it, which in turn will help someone else. Is there a more “mom” thing than sacrificing your own feelings to help someone else? See? You are a mom! It was in you all along.
“I’m afraid of being judged” Okay, yeah, can’t really help you with that one. Mom-shaming, armchair parenting, sanctimonious comments in a Facebook mom group:
“I secretly miss my old ‘pre-child’ life” Are we supposed to be secretive about that? Sometimes I pretend it’s 2008 and I’m alone in my condo, chilling with a foster dog, eating black beans out of the can, while binging four episodes of Gossip Girl on a DVD that just arrived from Netflix. It’s Friday night, baby. And tomorrow I’m going to sleep until 1:15 PM, eat breakfast, take a long shower if I decide to shave my legs, and then drive myself to the really fancy TJ Maxx in Shoreline. There’s a Big Lots nearby and if there’s enough time before my evening nap, I might pop in there too. WHO WOULDN’T MISS THAT LIFE!?
Yes things are different now, but it’s not all bad. Believe it or not, in five years you’ll look back on the infant era and miss that3 life too. Sure eating beans straight out of the can is a thrilling, not-to-mention classy, way of life, but have you ever had a toddler hold your hand or have your portrait hand drawn by a kindergartner who draws little lopsided hearts around your bulbous, circular body or taken your train-obsessed three-year-old to see Thomas the Train in real life? Damnnnnnnnnn…It’s like finding a Le Creuset dutch oven at Big Lots. Pure magic.
“I’m doomed, aren’t I?” My sweet, honey bear, you don’t know doomed until you’ve got a diarrhea-stricken baby strapped to your body with sixteen feet of fabric. The jaws of life couldn’t get me out of that Moby thing fast enough. But you are not doomed. You may be a mom, but—SHOCKER— you’re still human and therefore able to experience emotions— even ones you’re ashamed of. Guilt, fear, and despair are pretty much your baseline now. Besides, how are you going to teach your child to process a spectrum of emotions if they don’t see one healthy breakdown or hear at least a few cleverly strung together curse words a day? Teachable moments, I say!
Probably cry. Okay, if I can leave you with one thing it’s probably, I read this whole thing for only ONE THING? Possibly. But it’s a good one. Those first several months were really hard for me too. I guess if you’ve been reading this newsletter for a while that is not at all surprising. But I know with 100% certainty it is or was hard for a lot of moms because I forced them to admit it and then yelled at them for not being honest with me. I know also it will get better. You will get better. Your baby is new at this too. And rest assured you have years before they develop the cerebral function to start comparing you to other moms.
XO,
Shelly
You want more than “one thing?” How about an entire, beautiful collection of advice and inspiration about new parenthood? I got you. Or rather the amazing
has you. She put together this fantastic round-up of some great reads about the first year of parenthood. If you have not subscribed to Kylie-Ann’s Substack, I highly recommend it, especially if you love a good, honest hot take on something we’re all thinking, but no one wants to be the first to say it.SUBMIT YOUR QUESTIONS!!!
Do you have a question for Middle-Aged Lady Mom? Good news! I am opening up the advice giving to other writers to provide even more insights and perspectives. We’ve got moms, dads, ACTUAL DOCTORS, even YOUNG PEOPLE standing by to answer your questions! I mean, you might still get stuck with my sweaty, jaded non-expertise but it will be countered by someone who actually knows what they’re doing. Submit your questions (can be anonymous!) here!
But am I?
Bolded because I’m serious!
Provided you have undergone your Eternal Sunshine mind-erasing treatment
Wow. This made me feel better. I’m long past the newborn stage but it put me right back in those feelings. Thank you for sharing this. I love the idea of having people submit questions, that’s awesome!
Ah this is wonderful! Thanks so much for including my piece or rather collection of pieces 😂 I can’t take credit for the writing in there mostly but I read them and felt they worth sharing esp with new mums or mums with babies. There was a piece by author Libby Page about not falling in love straight away which was a great read.
And also I love this idea of sending in questions. I think esp in that first year or two I kept all the questions in my head (it was lockdown too there was no one to ask!??!) but now I blab my darkest fears to anyone in a metre radius and it helps.
Helps to get it out and not have it rattling around getting more of a thing. Also finding journalling (and writing on Substack a huge help too.)