New mothers: don't say no one told you
"She was understandably taken over by the rosy view of early motherhood, the sun streaming through windows in a bright white nursery while baby slumbers peacefully in Mum’s arms."
A friend of mine has just become a mother. And after twelve weeks of wading through breastfeeding, witching hour, and trying to recover physically, she said something to me I have heard people say quite a lot, particularly about parenting:
No one told me.
No one told me it was this hard, or how fundamentally and totally my life would change. That I would lose myself and have to discover a new one. No one told me how difficult breastfeeding can be, or newborns, or about purple crying, and the list goes on.
I listened receptively and reassured her that, just like the rest of us with no idea what we’re doing, she would be okay and that there are people all around her to support her and help anytime.
What I didn’t say was what I was thinking. The answer to "No one told me."
Yes, they did.
I know, because I told her. I told her about the ice packs you need in your knickers after birth, about mastitis, and blocked ducts, and the pain of hand expressing engorged and swollen breasts. I told her that motherhood had totally altered who I am forever. And I’m sure I am not the only friend of hers who told her all these things and more. I’m sure they all shared their stories and experiences of motherhood and difficulty.
But here’s the thing, like everyone who says "no one told me", the reality of that statement is "I wasn’t listening".
And that isn’t necessarily a criticism. Why would she have listened? Truly listened. It wasn’t relevant to her at the time, and when it was relevant she was understandably taken over by the rosy view of early motherhood. The Huggies commercial, sun streaming through windows in a bright white nursery while baby slumbers peacefully in Mum’s arms, the stories of overwhelming love that hits in that first moment of embrace, the "empowering" birth stories.
And so she should’ve been. The fantasising about taking your twosome to a family of three can be some of the loveliest moments for partners to share. Cuddling on the couch with hands on your belly commenting on kicks and thinking of the future is a special and emotional moment that partners should just enjoy. And feeling positive about what is to come is necessary to actually get you to a baby! If you actually focused on all the potential difficulties and hardships of parenting, you’d never do it!
I know what it is to not listen when you’re told something that doesn’t fit with the ideal you’re invested in.
When I first started my teaching career, I worked myself into the ground. Literally. As in I ended up in foetal position on the ground, sobbing and shaking when I finally snapped after five years of 15 hour days and living and breathing my job.
Now, I could say "No one told me" that this would happen if I continued working the way I was. But that’d be a lie. They did tell me, I just didn’t listen. I thought they were wrong. I thought they just weren’t as passionate about their job as me. I thought they weren’t as committed. I thought they were trying to bring me down so I didn’t outshine them, or something. They just didn’t get it.
Of course, it was me who was wrong.
The truth is, I couldn’t have been told. I have tried to tell friends of mine I see going down a similar path, and they won’t be told either. Like me, they’ll need to learn it for themselves. I hope, for their sakes, they don’t have to learn it the way I did.
The problem with telling prospective parents (and passionate young teachers, and anyone, really) about potential difficulties, is that you seem like such a Negative Nancy. Prospective parents often complain about the “horror stories” they are told.
But you can’t complain about people telling you how difficult their parenting life has been, and then complain that no one told you how difficult it can be.
For my lovely friend, who is so fresh in her new self, I hope she is able to hear the stories and the advice that comes full force from all corners as soon as you are a parent. And I hope it doesn’t make her worry, but just feel a little more prepared to take on whatever hits. The thing to remember is, at least at the moment, we’re all still standing. And all we can do is share our stories and hope that people hear.