The narratives of motherhood

And learning to accept the mother I am in any given moment

A moment of joy at The Duddon Estuary with some Lakeland Fells in the background

I came so close to not posting anything this week. My son’s teething and the fact that he is developing so much right now have affected all of our sleep for the last month. When I have managed to find time to myself it’s been hard to think creatively and the words haven’t come as easily. But I promised that this newsletter would be an honest reflection of my experience as a first time mum and I’ve been thinking that maybe this is exactly what some of you need to read right now.

I am writing this on Saturday night with my next post due on Monday. It’s 8 pm and I’m lying in bed fully clothed with the electric blanket on. My hair needs washing, I’m dehydrated (this seems to be the standard since I gave birth) and I haven’t been eating as well lately. I’ve just finished watching Channel 4’s latest dating show ‘Love Triangle’ whilst eating half a tub of Ben and Jerry’s (I left the other half for my husband once he finished getting our son to sleep). In contrast, last week we were on holiday in the Lakes, the sun was shining and we got to spend every day together as a family making memories. I’m trying to accept this forever-changing landscape of motherhood and the reality of the mother I am at any given moment.

It seems to me that there are two clear narratives of motherhood today. The first one, the perfect mother, has been around for generations. The modern version looks slightly different than it did for our mothers or grandmothers but the premise is still the same. I think the second narrative, the exhausted mum, is a pushback against the first one. I’ve seen these exaggerated examples of what it means to be a mother reflected in TV programmes, on social media and in person. I’ve even found myself playing into these roles in opposition or in an attempt to fit in. The problem with these representations of motherhood is that they are too narrow, too superficial, too monotone and it feels like they are isolating us from each other. We need to be allowed to contradict ourselves, to be complicated and whole. I want to express my joy as a mother, to celebrate my son and not feel like I have to minimise when we’re doing well to make others feel better. I also want to be honest when I’m struggling, to not feel pressured to always appear as if I am coping. I also think both narratives can be harmful and confusing for those thinking about or hoping to become mothers one day. Neither of these examples portrays the truth or depth of motherhood and we need to be careful not to leave women feeling like they will never be enough or to put them off altogether (I know constantly hearing or seeing how exhausting motherhood can be nearly convinced me I shouldn't become one!)

Of course, no one is perfect and no one is falling apart all of the time. Some people will naturally lean towards editing out the negatives and some will find it cathartic to only share the hard bits. We are all different, as are our experiences and how we interpret them. In reality and on average we’re all probably somewhere in the middle of these two extremes. One thing that is a constant in caring for a young child is that life is forever shifting, much like the weather. Some mornings it’s raining heavily but by the afternoon the sun manages to push through the clouds. It’s helpful to remember this whichever phase you’re in because you will always keep returning to the same places again and again. It might not feel like it, but you are never alone in your pain or your joy and anything in between, including the dull bits. Someone somewhere will be experiencing something similar to you. Let’s try and make space for each other’s realities, let’s greet each other’s feelings without judgements because more than likely the sky will look different when we wake up tomorrow.