Why do so many mothers keep the whole story of pregnancy from their daughters? Why do so few women help each other by admitting their fears, worries, and ambivalence during pregnancy? Why isn’t there a body of honest lore and comfort for women embarking on motherhood to draw on? There’s certainly a difference between telling the truth and scaring a new mother. There’s no need to overdramatize how difficult life is when you have children. But there’s also no need to pretend that it’s easier than it really is. That approach only sets women up to feel like failures when things don’t go as smoothly as they appear to for everyone else. In response, women struggle to keep their mouths shut, not wanting to admit that they are the only ones who don’t have a clue about this pregnancy and parenthood thing.
I think this conspiracy of silence has many causes. The first is amnesia—biology’s way of keeping the species going. If every mother remembered in detail all the woes and pains of pregnancy and delivery, Homo sapiens would have died out long ago. But amnesia isn’t enough to explain the silence. Perhaps people don’t want to scare pregnant women or make them hyperalert to all the possible downsides of pregnancy and motherhood. Or maybe they don’t want to admit that being a mother is a very hard job.
One of the biggest reasons for the silence, I think, is that there is a cultural taboo against mothers having mixed feelings. Pregnant women are icons in our society: strangers touch their bellies, people on elevators give them advice on breastfeeding and diapers, and their every public action is scrutinized. Icons don’t throw up all day or feel overwhelmed about the future. Mothers are sacred; they will always love us, and they will always think we’re wonderful. If we allowed mothers to be real people with real feelings—if we admitted that mothers sometimes don’t enjoy being pregnant or don’t feel like taking care of their children—we’d also have to admit that sometimes our own mothers might not have been all that happy with us, every minute of the day.
I was reading People magazine recently and saw many beautiful movie stars beaming at the camera, showing off their big bellies or looking just wonderful as they held their newborns. It made me feel bad for all the pregnant women and new mothers who had the time to leaf through this magazine. I wanted to call out to them and say, “Don’t imagine that’s what you’re supposed to strive for. They are ten deep in help! The makeup and hair people spent hours on them! They are crying just like you, and their episiotomies hurt them, too. They just aren’t telling. And the reason they’re back in their tiny jeans six weeks after delivery is that their personal trainers went to the hospital with them.”
I discussed all this with Janice, who admitted the secret name she and her husband had given the fetus: TDC (That Damned Critter). I let out a whoop of laughter, and I could hear in her voice such a sense of relief that she had told me everything and I still wanted to be her friend. She was beginning to realize that her feelings were part and parcel of being pregnant, and she felt a lot better about her future—as a writer and as a mother.
The above is an excerpt from the book Understanding Your Moods When You’re Expecting by Lucy J. Puryear, MD
