Faking It

The baby is nursing and I am at my computer, so now is as good a time as ever to write up a little post. I busted out the nipple cream yesterday in an attempt to mitigate my sore and painful bresses. I can’t say I’ve noticed much of a change – after all, it’s not dry, cracked nipples I’m having but just over-all pain – but I will keep using it since it can’t hurt. Most mothers I’ve talked about this with say yes, nursing can be very painful, they went through it too. So I guess as long as it’s normal and not a sign that I’m doing something wrong or I have some illness that needs to be treated, I can live with it. But boy, the other night thinking about weaning early was suddenly very appealing!

The new season of Pregnant in Heels has begun. I credit this show with a lot of my pre-baby knowledge; it was on this show I learned about meconium, and first heard of pre-eclampsia (little knowing it would affect me – the woman on the show I believe had a c-section early). On the premier episode a woman has a home birth. Watching her suffer gave me flashbacks of horror. The way the midwife was telling her “you need to have this baby now,” was maddening to me. How can you tell a woman who’s been in labor for hours that “you need to have this baby now”?  Like, no shit! Although I’m sure experienced midwives would explain to me that sometimes women just don’t really try to push or get lazy at the end…still. I’m glad nobody said anything like that to me when I was in labor. The one nurse who, when I had my 4 AM freak out, told me, “yeah, labor sucks,” almost got a fist in the eye, however.

Suffice it to say it’s still hard for me to watch anything pregnancy or labor related. I just remember all those feelings so well. Not only the misery of labor itself, but that dazed feeling when the baby’s finally there and everyone’s gushing about it and all you’re thinking is “I just want to sleep,” but it’s not ok to just want to sleep, so you pretend to be all emotional about the baby, too. Well, I know that’s just me – many women are genuinely emotional and swept away at the first sight of their baby. As you know for me it wasn’t like that (after 66 hours of chemically induced labor, can you blame me?). It does make me wonder how many other women are faking it, though. It’s interesting the questions I’ve had since the baby was born – first, people assuming I’m a frazzled, sleep-deprived wreck (I’m not), and second, people assuming I’m “totally in love” with the baby to the exclusion of all else. Neither of these statements is true – I mean, of course I love the baby, I think he’s totally adorable and a great kid, and I find him fascinating, but I haven’t shut out the rest of my life. I’m still just as interested in the dog, my friends, family, the band, my event, the house, the world around me, as I ever was. If not more so, because I need something to think about/look at when he’s nursing, which is pretty much all of the time! I haven’t found motherhood to be transformative – I still feel like the same person I was a year ago, only perhaps slightly less bitter. Part of me is a little relieved I didn’t morph into some mom-bot; part of me is a little disappointed. Perhaps the morphing comes later, or over time. But I do feel a certain pressure to be a certain way, and I know that I’m not being that way, and it does worry me. Again, those old questions. Is not being totally transformed by motherhood a sign that I’m going to be like my mother? Am I, too, a malignant narcissist? Have I really not escaped the legacy of two completely insane parents after all?

Recently an old friend of our family died from lack of medical care (a common theme in our old religion). I knew this lady when I was a kid and always thought of her as a loving mom figure, since I spent a lot of time at their house when I lived in NY. She had three boys (two when I knew them). My sister is still in touch with the older boys (now around 30 years old), and especially lately as their mother was in decline. Their situation is very similar to ours – a lot of alienation from their mother because of the religion, frustration at her unwillingness to save herself via medical care, and general ambivalence about her situation. The one thing I didn’t know, however, is that apparently she verbally and physically abused her boys their entire young lives – I mean real, severe beatings, usually in a response to not being as religious as she would have liked. This was, and is, utterly shocking to me. I just can’t imagine her ever being like that; she always seemed like such a gentle, soft lady. But I don’t doubt what they’re telling us is true. Now she’s gone and there’s a Facebook page for her. Last night her husband posted a bunch of old photos and I looked through them, remembering her as a young woman, seeing all the happy family gatherings, and still having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that she was beating the crap out of these kids, calling them stupid, etc, at the same time those smiling pictures were taken. It truly boggles the mind. Once again, how many mothers, how many families out there, are faking it?

If there’s one goal I have in my little family it’s to be truthful. I think I can tell my son one day that his birth sucked for me – but I’ll also tell him it was worth it (true) and that he was a trooper through the whole thing (also true) and that it wasn’t his fault I suffered, it was just the way my body coped with pregnancy. I can also truthfully tell him that he was a beautiful baby and a joy to have around, and that he made me very happy. And that he was loved by a legion of family members and dance family members, even, dare I say it, his crazy grandparents.