What Do You Love About Being a Parent?
And the one phrase to please stop saying to new and expecting parents this very instant.
“What’s awful about motherhood is that all the cliches are true. The whole ‘sending your heart out into the world’ and ‘I never knew I could love this much’ shit. I hate it, but it’s true.”
Recently one of my closest friends asked me about motherhood, something general along the lines of “how’s it going?” She is not a mother, but I have known her nearly my entire life, through every phase and stage of it, and I knew she’d understand me, whatever I had to say. As we both sat curled up on separate couches, watching my two-year-old ferry plastic toys from one end of the room to the other, I replied, “What’s awful about motherhood is that all the cliches are true. The whole ‘sending your heart out into the world’ and ‘I never knew I could love this much’ shit. I hate it, but it’s true.”
Of all the things to hate about parenthood, this is one that I despise the most.
When I was younger, a boy once called me predictable. To this day, it is the most offensive thing anyone ever said to me (even more so than the time an unhoused man on the subway called me a cunt) and since then I have made it my life’s mission to allude predictability. To question the status quo, play devil’s advocate, and be sure that if I was going to do what everyone expected of me, it was because I decided so—not the other way around. It’s one reason it took me so long to come around to motherhood. I hate its assumptions about women, that we should all have children. And here I have found myself in the throes of motherhood feeling exactly as trillions of mothers before me had predicted I would.
But there are three words in particular that have the ability to send me into a flaming-hot rage quicker than any other, especially when attached to the topic of parenthood:
“Just wait until…”
These three words are usually spoken by well-meaning parents. Parents who have been there, done that, experienced all that is to come in the career of parenthood. But please, for the love of God, can we all stop saying this?
I understand it’s often meant as a phrase of commiseration. A badge that says “here’s what to expect,” and “we’re all in this together,” except it’s viscous with subtext:
“You have no idea what’s coming.” (dum dum duuuummmm)
“It gets so much worse.”
“What you’re experiencing now is nothing compared to what I am going through or have gone through, and what is certain to descend upon you eventually.”
Why would we say that to someone about to go on one of the most unique yet universal journeys of their lives?
New and expecting parents do not need to be frightened. It does not matter what they know or don’t know. If a seasoned, well-intentioned parent needs to show their battle scars to someone, they can talk to their therapist. New and expecting parents don’t want someone else’s baggage. They don’t need another person predicting their journey. They deserve to be empowered.
“I just wish someone had told me,” is a refrain we hear a lot around motherhood, and I understand. Some people don’t have honest, insightful friends and family guiding them through their prenatal and postpartum journey—and yes, it’s important to have a grasp on the reality of parenthood to some degree (as much as anyone can without having experienced it). But there are ways to speak about parenthood that gives parents freedom to imagine their new reality without the sinking pit in their stomachs that this was all a huge mistake.
Before social media, talk of postpartum depression and the emotional and physical intensity of the fourth trimester was bashfully circulated, if at all, by women in small circles. Expectations around “bouncing back” were so normalized, most women felt a great deal of pressure to assimilate, creating a grossly false perception around the early days, even years, of motherhood. Things were different back then.
But today—in this modern age—I’d just like to ask our audience to please read the room. If a 38-year-old woman (me) with social media accounts (also me) declares they have not
- Heard someone talk about the difficult realities of new motherhood
- Seen the deluge of crying moms on Instagram
- Witnessed with their own eyes the struggling mother of an infant
Then I’d like them to please come out from under their rock.
It’s impossible to miss this conversation, at my age, with the immersion of social media. When I was pregnant, I didn’t think, “I wish they had told me.” I thought, “I wish they’d stop talking.”
“Yeah, it’s hard. But life is hard. Tackle it like you tackle all of life’s challenges.”
Two months before my daughter’s due date, holed up during quarantine in Los Angeles with very little social interaction, it seemed all anyone wanted to tell me about motherhood was how awful the first several months would be. How little sleep I would get. How fragile my emotional state would be. My family and newest mom friends were some of the few who shone a realistic yet optimistic light on the awe-inspiring journey upon which I would soon embark. I knew it was going to be hard. As my friend Ash, mother of two, told me, “Yeah, it’s hard. But life is hard. Tackle it like you tackle all of life’s challenges.” Finally, some clarity I could get behind.
I felt as though I were in line to get on a roller coaster, a line which I could not step out of. As previous riders got off the rollercoaster, instead of telling me, “This ride will be unique to your experience!” or “It’s a wild ride, but you’ll figure it out!” they wanted to tell me that it was, in fact, a living hell. This led to a great sense of dread and lack of excitement about my impending child, my future birth experience, and the actually huge decision we’d made to become parents. I had been just-wait-until’ed into oblivion and it totally fucking bummed me out.
“Why do people have kids anyway?” I scowled at my husband one afternoon, a cup of water propped on the coffee table that was my giant belly. “Sounds awful.” And being the steady companion he is, took to social media with a call to action. He asked:
What Do You Love About Being A Parent?
The overflow of anecdotes and advice was heart warming, and revived my excitement for what was to come. I am forever grateful to the people who shared their highlight reels.
One of my husband’s friends echoed the sentiment that I would come to understand:
All the cliches are true. It’s just a constant experience of wonder, you can’t believe this little person came from you, and didn’t exist and now exists and is, like, laughing and smiling and (eventually) walking and talking and making jokes and coming up with stuff on her own. I mean, you’ll be exhausted and stressed and you’ll find you just have so so much less time than you ever thought you’d have and you’ll worry about everything 10x more, but the amazingness far far FAR outweighs all that. Nothing else like it.
There was further validation of the cliches…
Hard to put into words but you’re not going to believe how much you can love a person until you meet her.
I loved the input from my husband’s hardcore death-metal friend who’s one of the toughest softies you’ll ever meet.
You’re about to see your partner do something miraculous. I know it’s natural and has been done billions of times, but I was in awe. It’s a beauty and strength to be honored.
From then on, challenges and joys. Don’t be upset too much, you’re going to see some truths about yourself and your partner you didn’t expect, love the quirks as the awkwardness of humanity and love the darkness that emerges even more. Your limitations are ok.
Then the kid. They’re amazing. My truth was being amazed, but also underwhelmed. [They] didn’t emerge as a fully realized being, he emerged as a creature who had been a blastocyst 9 months earlier. People often portray infants as having a presence I didn’t find. I don’t say this to downplay the miracle he was, but to ground it. My joys have been in the everyday. Love yourself, your partner and your child.
There were hard yet encouraging truths…
I hate being wrong. But when you get it wrong as a parent, it’s because you’re learning. Becoming a better person, woman, mother, is so worth getting it wrong sometimes.
And buckets of wisdom:
You have ALL OF THE POWER as a parent . Jk jk… For me, the best part of being a parent cannot be summed up in one thing, but some of my favorites are: Even on your worst days they make you smile. And even on the worlds worst days they take you away to another space. There is nothing in the world (in my experience) that you’ll be so intrinsically curious about and learning from day after day after day after day. They, like all of us, are always changing so be curious every day as they evolve.
I could go on and on, but you get the gist. Our friends told us everything you hope to hear about parenthood. Because we already knew the bad shit. We wanted something to look forward to.
I don’t mean to say that we ought to only share the highlights of parenthood. Lord knows I have my share of stories. You don’t have to lie…just remember that they’re not where you are yet, and they shouldn’t have to be. Everyone should get to experience the naive bliss of parenthood.
When asked about motherhood by expecting moms, I like to be honest but optimistic. I do not tell them what they will or won’t feel, because I am not them, and their baby is not mine, and our lifestyles and upbringings and attitudes are entirely unique.
I tell expecting moms to try and remember that every moment is fleeting. The good, the bad, and the downright awful—it will pass. When it’s good, savor it. When it’s bad, know that it will all change and then it will be something else, and that will pass, too.
I tell them they’re going to do great.
I tell them that at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what any book or mom influencer says; it’s about doing what makes them feel confident in their decisions, however silly or extreme or lackadaisical or weird they may seem.
I don’t share self-indulgent horror stories (unless I’m asked, of course).
And though I fail at times, I try my best not to repeat the cliches like, “the days are long but the years are short,” even though they’re true. Because soon enough these new parents will be sending their heart out into the world, never knowing they could love anything as much as this. But they’ll figure that out on their own.
Love it!
This was similar to my own reaction in becoming a parent. Everyone scares you with all the tough stuff, but no one really conveys the beauty and coolness in the good stuff!