Motherhood has been weighing heavy on my soul lately. The unspoken work is taxing, to say the least, and as women, many of us do it without much recognition or appreciation. But that’s not to say we’re all bitter and resentful.
Much of the time, it’s unnoticed because the work is so automatic. Wipe the counters, fold the laundry, hold the crying baby . . . If your partner works, he comes home, sees the semi-clean home and well-fed children, and goes on. There aren’t alarm bells that say “hey she’s been on her feet for eight hours too.”
And while that’s exhausting and lonely at times, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. From the time I was a child, I knew I wanted to be a mom. I wanted to raise my children, cuddle them at nap times, and wake up to their smiling faces every morning. Unfortunately, though, I spent the better part of my twenties wrestling with that desire. You see, public education and society really did women a disservice by denying the idea that some women could stay home, should stay home, or enjoy staying home.
“Go to school. Get a job. Depend on no man.” It was preached to me from the time I was in elementary school, all the way through graduate school. Yet, I felt this grinding internal dissonance because the idea of dropping my future children off at daycare and seeing them eight hours later made me want to throw up. It’s not because I thought poorly of those that did that. It’s because I felt like I didn’t have an option.
The choice was taken from me by feminist culture and it made me feel guilty and worthless when I was finally given the opportunity to stay home. I always felt anxious that I should be contributing more and sad that I was a disappointment to the idea of a “modern woman.”
My daughter will be five this month, and it’s taken all five years to unlearn that indoctrination. It’s taken five years to feel at peace in my role within my family. It’s taken five years to realize who robbed me of the joy I could have been feeling all along. Why are girls shamed for wanting to be mothers? Yes, mothers, not birthing person or vulva-owners.
I didn’t go through one c-section, two VBACs, and two years of postpartum depression to have the pride in what I accomplished taken away from me. A woman did that. I, a woman, breastfed three children for a total of fifty months (and counting) of my life.
We are hurting our girls. Yes, encourage them to be scientists, architects, doctors, and artists. But please, for their sake, stop shaking your head and offering disapproving, “bless your heart” smiles to young women that desire a family, a husband, and a role within the home.
Hi Breanna! Enjoying your articles. Heard of Suzanne Venker? If not, I think you'd love her podcast and books