Motherhood

While I was pregnant the entire focus for me and the people around me was the birth process. I’m now a 20 day old mother, with a 20 day old son who has yet to come home and I can tell you now, giving birth is easy compared to being a mum. I’ve mentioned to a few people, and in a comment on my thankyou post that being a Mum is the hardest and most worthwhile thing I have ever done. I feel as though every single thing I have learnt and done up until now has been in preparation for this moment.

No-one told me it would be like this. At least no-one in the culture that I have been living in, except one person: my Mum. I have to say I wasn’t listening very hard when she told me. And she didn’t say it to me directly like I’m doing with you now. She told me in a thousand ways, but most especially she told me by being a mother to me. I know that what my mum has done for me has been hard, but I never recognised it. I think this is not unusual in our culture, let me explain why…

The language we use when describing mothers and motherhood is very revealing. People might ask “What does she do?” and the response might be “Oh she’s just a mum”. There is a kind of contempt that someone could only be a mum, or that being a mum could be the primary focus of your life. Because it’s easy isn’t it? It has to be easy because its natural, women have been doing it since we existed, and everyone has a mum that’s done it – so if she can do it anyone can do it. Well I don’t know how easy it is for other mothers, but I know what it’s been like for me over 20 days, and I’ve had 30 years of observing my own mother. Motherhood is not easy – its fucking hard. And I’d like some recognition of that thankyou, and I’d like it from people who aren’t mums. And I especially want it from people who are mums. (Sorry I got a bit carried away, I know I can’t have everything I want.)

We talk about motherhood being a ‘job’ a ‘role’, a ‘position’ something to juggle between being a wife and, oh I don’t know – maybe an information architect. Well it is not a job, calling it a job is so lacking as a word to describe what it is. The only adequates words are ‘mother’, ‘mum’, ‘mummy’, ‘ma’, and you might know some other words in the same vein. Because being a mum is a place in the heart. It’s a place in my heart and in my son’s heart. Spike and I, we didn’t make this place, it was made for us, totally outside of our control.

Now Spike has father – J. And J also has place in his heart for Spike, as does Spike for him. It also was made outside of their control. Fatherhood is just as special as motherhood. But it is very different. In the same way men and women are equal, yet different. Think about the times you go to your father. For me I go to my father when I want advice on things like: building a bookshelf, how a car works, politics, etc. So when do I go to my mum? I think the times we all go our mothers is best illustrated with a story about the ANZAC soldiers. A chaplain who was at Gallipolli described what the men and boys wanted when they were on their death beds. At first they wanted the chaplain so that they could pray to god, but in the last moments of death or when they were in incredible pain, they called for their mothers.

I believe we go to our fathers for logic, reason and rationality. I believe we go to our mothers when we need emotional guidance and support. The thing is emotion is not valued in our culture as much as reason. So no wonder we undervalue mothers. Also, emotions are scary, you can’t really explain them, and they are uncontrollable. I don’t think I’ve really explained very well what I think is the difference between mothers and fathers, but I could put it this way: Your father is prose, and your mother is poetry.

P.S.
The P.S that was originally here has been removed by me, because I now think it would be better as a separate post.