August 30, 2002
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MotherLove.
I've been thinking alot about newborn babies lately. Not surprising really. And it occurred to me that there is this myth that all mothers find their newborn babes lovable. Or maybe that mothers instinctively love their children right from the start.
That's a crock.
Anyone will tell you that I am madly, joyfully, passionately in love with my child. But that wasn't always the case.
I don't think I loved her from the beginning. Hell, I don't think I even liked her all that much.
Let's face it. You go from being an independent, financially viable woman to being someone's maid service. And lunch counter.
You spend 9 months harbouring something which is, for all intents and purposes, a parasite, and then when it finally comes out - causing as much pain and mayhem as humanly possible - you are supposed to go all squishy and melt.
Nuh-uh.
I remember blind panic. Panic that this was not a kitten, or a puppy where you could make mistakes and no one would ever know. This was a human being. Who could end up seriously warped and writing a 'Mommie Dearest' book if she lived that long.
Where was the manual?
And more importantly, why was I so numb? I'd just nearly died to have her - and I felt nothing more for her than you would the kid next door. I loved the idea of her MORE than the reality, in the beginning.
Let me tell you about the beginning.
My child didn't sleep. Well she did, she slept 20 minutes out of every hour for 24 hours a day for 4+ months. I'll repeat that. FOUR AND A BIT MONTHS.
She didn't feed well. In fact, she was nearly hospitalised because she had lost so much weight.
I had two things to do for this child - feed her and comfort her, and I seemed to be able to do neither. I stumbled around completely inept, in a haze of self loathing and bitterness, cursing the very idea of a child. I had a husband who reacted to my slow decline into despair by spending as much time away from the nightmare as possible.
It was tough to feel love for her under those circumstances. Hard not to imagine a 'do over' where everything was back to the way it was and life was smooth and sweet. Hard not to resent this child who seemed to deliberately not sleep when I was retching from exhaustion and who turned her head away from my breast.
I don't know when it happened. This fierce angry love I feel for her now. It grew from a tiny flicker to something so encompassing that I cannot imagine a minute of my life without her in it.
Maybe it was about 6 months on, when I was so used to feeling awful that I stopped thinking about it. When I finally accepted that, for better or for worse, she was here, she was not some little doll I could dress and parade - she was an angry, squawling, puking, screaming being who was also capable of such dependence that I couldn't just abandon her.
Maybe when she fell asleep for the 10000th time in my arms as I walked the hall, jiggling her in time to some made up lullaby.
Maybe when it was when she finally stopped crying when I pulled a funny face or tickled her tummy.
Maybe it was when she seemed to notice me as something separate. Separate and GOOD. So I had to be good. For her,don't you see?
I don't know. But I do know that I am not the only mother who didn't fall in love with her child instantly. I don't think that's a terrible thing to admit. I think it's terrible to tell mothers (and fathers for that matter) , especially new ones, that they will immediately adore their child.
I think motherlove comes out of those hard early days. I think it's calculated. You are driven out of your self, you are beaten and bloodied and stripped of everything you hold true. You are exhausted, you are shattered and you are confronting things about yourself that you never knew.
And then, when the old you is gone, you and your child build a new you. Together. From the beginning. And it's stronger and better than anything you could do on your own.
Comments (28)
Reading this soothes me. My twins are due in December and I'm flipping out. I'm so, so scared..
This is so amazingly true...as the mother of a 3-month old, I understand your words completely.
This brought tears to my eyes. I can so relate to what you're saying.
My first one was always sick. He was hospitalized at a week old because with a staph infection, then again at 5 weeks because he wouldn't nurse or take a bottle. At 2 months, he had his first respiratory infection.
Of course, everything was entirely my fault. I couldn't do anything right. I definitely resented him, and i think a part of me even hated him a little bit. I was sinking so hard and so fast that i didn't even know what had hit me.
I still hadn't gotten over that first postpartum depression when the second one was born, and i bottomed out completely. I ended up in the hospital for almost two months for treatment of postpartum depression.
Even now there are times when I don't like them very much, but the love is so strong. Where did it come from? I certainly don't remember when it happened.
Prose poems. This is what you make. And love. And nobullshit real. And hope. Thank you.
I like that. I'll have to remember this for the future.
Thank you for describing Motherhood so eloquently. Since I am a man, I haven't had the insights that you have just provided.
Steve
You are so right, I dread the exhaustion part, that always makes me feel less than loving.
She is so precious SM.
I didn't know all this about motherhood, and all the feelings invoked, not all of them soft and cuddly.
Enjoy your weekend.
Thank you for writing that. I thought there was something wrong with me when my daughter was born and I didn't feel immediate, intense love for her. I know now that it is "normal" to feel that way, but some don't and what you wrote will surely help.
Right before I gave birth, one of my best friends decided to tell me the real truth about childbirth. At the time I was offended and scared, but afterward I realized she was the only one who told me anything that turned out to be true. Now I go around scaring pregnant women whenever I can! Well, not quite, but still. I think you've done a wonderful thing in writing this. As usual! (By the way, I'm a big user of the word "parasite" to describe pregnancy; people don't seem to appreciate it, so I'm glad to see it here!) You rule.
You are so right. I could not have summed it all up better myself!
What I wasn't prepared for was the full-out adoration for the 1st one, and then the 2nd & 3rd one coming and feeling nothing but bitter, depressed, angry, resentful. If #1 was such an easy baby, such a peach, why in the WORLD weren't the others? Ack. Thank goodness they keep changing. Good to see you back. MWAH.
I spent the first few months of my daughter's life frantic that I was going to roll over on her, or have her get caught in my hair at night. She wouldn't sleep either, and would only drift off when placed on my chest. Needless to say, I was a bundle of raw nerve endings by the time she was about 4 months old.
I agree about the transformation - the old you is gone, the new you appears and you are standing next to part of the old you and part of the new you and someone else entirely (that you get to discover!) all packed into a teeny tiny body. It's really an amazing thing.
You write just beautifully, by the way. And Raymond Carver's "Where I'm Calling From" is excellent! So is "Cathedral."
Ah the brainwashing tactics of the cult of motherhood...
sounds normal to me.
I have no idea how to put into words the thanks I have for you telling it like it really is ... rather than the way other people tell us it is supposed to be. You have true bravery, never let anyone take that from you.
When my first was born premature, I loved him madly and I was so scared and anxious to get him home from the hospital. When I got my wish two and a half weeks later, I wanted them to take him back. I was so tired. He has always been an intense kid, even then, and demanding more of me than I had (have!) to give.
This was so beautifully written, and so true.
bravo!
I am glad you are back. I missed you. And they are puling, puking little monsters, aren't they? Brilliant, beloved, incredible, yes, but still--puling, puking little monsters. We are so fucking lucky to be mothers, to teach us what it really is to unconditionally love someone else.
You are so right. My first was a bad birth and then a sickely crying little soul. We took a while to bond. With my second we seemed to bond straight away as if we had known each other before. And now my love for both of my kids is so strong it seems strange to think that it hasn't always been like that.
Wow! You know you are the first mother from who I heard this. Very interresting and I'm glad I've learned something new. I don't think I'm brave enough to ask my Mom about this though...
I did not fall in love with my child instantly, and I still blame the people around me for expecting me to.
thank your for writing with your soul.
Brilliant as usual, stressie. I so understand. I felt such a cacophony of feelings - guilt, fear, pain, affection, that I didn't know what to do. When I got the baby home after his stay in the NICU, I felt I had a good day if I didn't have the urge to throw him out the window.
Thanks for articulating the feelings so well.
jeez, i wish i could give you more than two props! this should be required reading for all new mothers.
It's a rollercoaster, always such a rollercoaster.
I miss you, StressMagi...
the cult of motherhood.. phooey i say.. how wonderfully put Stress.
Truer words were never spoken and certainly not with such power.....brilliant as always, Lady, glad to see you popping around now and again.....poor Erma Bombeck, rest her soul.......she didn't have nuthin' on you girl
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