Motherhood: Expectations vs. Reality

Before I became pregnant, I used to fantasise about the kind of mother I would be. I used to look at other mothers and think, ‘I will be better than that’ or ‘I will never do that’. I used to judge them – their actions and their decisions.  And I thought that this was okay. I thought it was okay to self-righteously criticise women I knew and women I didn’t know at all. I thought it was okay to scrutinise their behaviour when I knew absolutely nothing about their lives or their circumstances.

But this is not okay. And the irony of it all is that now that I’m a mother, I feel like I’m being judged in everything that I do… I guess that’s my comeuppance.

Before I became pregnant, I had already decided that I wouldn’t drink a drop of alcohol during my pregnancy, I would eat the healthiest foods, and take all the pregnancy supplements. I would meditate every day and practice yoga five times a week. Then I became pregnant. And shit got real. I ate whatever I could hold down without vomiting. I never went to yoga. I watched TV instead of meditating. I didn’t take any supplements except folic acid, and I didn’t remember to take it every day. I developed a sweet tooth and ate far too many sweet treats. Towards the end of my pregnancy, I drank a glass of wine every now and then and it was fucking awesome. I swore I’d never microwave expressed breast-milk. I swore I’d only use cloth nappies. I was going to diligently fill out every detail in my son’s baby book. He was only going to wear gender-neutral clothing, and have gender-neutral toys. I was going to have a perfect home birth. The list goes on…

I think it’s worth acknowledging my privilege here too. I’m lucky enough that I can afford to be somewhat picky about what clothes my son wears. And that I had access to medical services of a decent standard when my home birth didn’t go as planned I had hoped. I’m lucky enough to not have to go back to work immediately, and that I have a wonderful support network of family and friends. I’m thankful for so much.

My son is now three months old. And being a mother is amazing. But it is also not amazing sometimes. It’s rewarding and fun, but it’s also challenging and tiring. And it’s difficult enough without trying to be perfect. And its’ difficult enough without other people expecting you to be perfect. Now I realise this. And so I apologise to all those mothers that I judged. I have no doubt now that you were doing the very best that you could. And in the context of parenthood, I think that is perfection.

“Never get bored of how your girlfriend looks again.”

This is how Olympus advertises their latest product (the Olympus PEN ‘Anything But Ordinary’ campaign).

Let me see if I understand this correctly… You have a beautiful girlfriend. But you’re bored by her appearance. Her ‘ordinary’ looks just aren’t doing it for you any more. So you buy this camera, apply the ‘Art Filter’, and voilà! You can tolerate looking at her again.

What a wonderful way to sell cameras – by convincing men that their women look too ordinary. It is, after all, a woman’s duty to look good for her man (what else is she good for besides her looks?!) But she can’t even do that right.

Problem solved!

Hetero baby match-making

You know how people like to joke about their babies marrying their friends’ babies? Like an informal arranged marriage. I get it; it’s funny and cute. And I don’t have a problem with it per se – these statements are not meant to be taken seriously. Most people let their children make their own decisions about future relationships.

What I do have a problem with is the underlying heterosexual assumption. This assumption was illustrated perfectly when a friend of mine said the following: “Oh, you’re having a boy? That’s a shame; he won’t be able to marry [friend's boy baby]“. As if all babies are born and/or will remain heterosexual.

When she was asked “Why not…?”, this friend was shocked and speechless. Perhaps because she realised how homophobic she sounded? Or maybe she was disgusted at the idea of a homosexual marriage. Hopefully it was the former.

Since this conversation I’ve been deliberately (but not seriously) ‘match-making’ my baby boy with babies of both (all) genders. It’s interesting to see peoples’ reactions when the babies are of the same gender. Some people are obviously uncomfortable. Fortunately, some people are more than accepting; it’s not even questioned.

I hope that by the time my son is old enough to start pursuing relationships, the idea of a homosexual relationship will be as normal and acceptable as a heterosexual relationship.

Double standards

Just a quick observation:

Ever noticed how scars on a guy are (generally) considered distinguished and brag-worthy? Often referred to as ‘battle-scars’ – even if said scars are earned/acquired via less than noble pursuits (e.g. a drunken accident). Ever noticed how scars on a girl are (generally) considered unsightly and shameful? To be removed/hidden – even if they are earned/acquired via more commendable behaviour?

Case in point: stretch marks resulting from pregnancy (or even stretch marks in general). Why do we (pregnant women) spend so much time/money trying to prevent stretch marks, or trying to reverse stretch marks? (And I must admit: I did try to prevent stretch marks, but I was not very vigilant). Shouldn’t we be proud of these marks? Are they not brag-worthy? I can’t think of anything more deserving of respect – I GREW A PERSON! AND THEN I GAVE BIRTH TO THIS PERSON. You wanna compare ‘battle’-scars? I think my scars beat your bar-fight scratches.

So yeah, I’m proud of my stretch marks.