admitting

I was talking with a friend of mine who doesn't have kids (but would like a couple). She has some mixed feelings about motherhood, and was sharing them with me--very tentatively. She kept saying, "I feel like a bad person for saying this..." and then she'd be surprised that I wasn't offended or shocked.
She's afraid of losing herself when she becomes a mother; of becoming someone sloppy and depressed, hanging around in her nightgown all day; and especially, of not being able to give and give and give without resentment.
I didn't so much struggle with #2 (Thanks, Flylady!) but #s 1 and 3 I'm well familiar with. As are any woman that decides to go for the whole motherhood thing.
She said, "Kids just seem like so much work, and they take so much out of you. Why do people do it?
That's a very good question, friend. If I were being cynical, I would say that societal expectations play a part; having just turned 30, I felt pretty good about myself for not feeling bad. Dyami pointed out it might have something to do with me achieving certain mandated milestones (husband, house, kid). But also, if you want one of the great joys of life, you either have to go through birth pangs or adoption pangs, and then suffer through discipline, sleeplessness, and the assorted life-changes that accompany kids. Luckily, God intends us to be able to cope. And he grows us through it. (See my post about spiritual discipline).

I told her her questions were good, and that she will lose herself, to some extent, and that it will be more than she can handle, and that she will, on occasion, resent how much effort she has to expend, given our society's helpful division of labor (men: go earn money! women: give and give and give all day! And then get up in the middle of the night!) *

I remember when Lucy was about four weeks old, I'd vibrate with anger any time Dyami went out to get coffee or to see a friend, or to just get a break. Not because I needed his help, but just because I hated that I didn't get a break, and I wanted him to suffer with me.
I remember feeling terribly guilty when he started making up little games to play with Lucy because I hadn't made up games; I didn't want to play games with her because that would be one more thing I had to do (now that she doesn't have to held every frickin' minute of the day, I happily play games. Our new favorite is the song "The Wheels of the Bus".
I remember feeling guilty because I didn't want to use my sling more than I had to. It would have solved many problems: she was fussy, if I put her in the sling, I had some mobility, and she was happy. But I didn't want to carry her any more than I absolutely had to. My back hurt, and limited mobility is, well, limited. Was I a bad mommy for not wanting her on me every minute of the day?

Looking back, I realize how much more Lucy demanded of me back then, and I feel gentle towards my former self. It's okay to be overwhelmed, I want to tell her. It will get better soon. You're doing all you can. And It's okay that you don't like this very much. You'll like it more later. To be honest, there are days where I still don't like babyhood very much. It has it's moments, but I'm ready for Lucy to learn how to dress herself and cook falafel. Oh, and talk. Oh, and sleep! Learn to sleep!
But having been through periods of more and less work in the last ten months, and realizing that each period of more work is still less work than the previous difficult period, I realize things continue to get easier. And that all this will end.
Last night, at a dinner for Dyami's company, a coworker of his said there was a turning point at about eighteen months where his son went from being kind of fun to 90% fun. I appreciated his candor.
And I appreciate that I'm more than halfway there.


*I'm not a Mormon, but I can see that there might be something to polygamy. Not that I'd want to be part of it: for one, being one of many wives wouldn't do much for your status/freedom. But it would be nice to have some company in the middle of the night. So we're going to join a commune!