The first time I was pregnant I read all the books. You know. The Books. The ones that tell you what to expect during the nine months of pregnancy, what to expect during labor and delivery, how to write a birth plan and how to manage every physical ailment carrying a baby may bring.
Thirty-eight very short weeks later, my son was born and I had absolutely no idea what to do next. The books don't tell you about the excitement and joy that will wash over you, becoming almost too much to bear. The books never told me about the let down after birth, all that pent up excitement about the baby's arrival, and then suddenly you're thinking, "Wait. This is it? So, now what?"
Don't get me wrong, I love my baby (even at 4 and 3/4's old, he's still my baby) and those 38 weeks of highs and lows were totally worth it. But somewhere between conception and birth I lost Dana and became Mom.
Perfect example of this loss of identity: During the nine months of doctor's appointments, the nurse and doctors always referred to me as Dana or Mrs. Tuszke, but the second I pushed that baby out, I was called Mom. A few hours after delivery a nurse came to check my blood pressure and said, "How's Mom doing today?" I wanted to turn around and look for my own mother. (Actually, I wanted to scream at the nurse and tell her I still had a first name.)
Recently, I had the opportunity to read the book
Mojo Mom, by Amy Tiemann, Ph.D. and reflect on every aspect of pregnancy, birth and motherhood. Tiemann discusses what happens to a new mother's life after she brings baby home, and offers advice on how to deal with the huge identity shift many women face, especially those who have left behind a career, friends and a paycheck.
I fell in love with her book when I read the first sentence in which she defines what Mommy Mojo really is:
Mommy Mojo is the feeling you get when you are at the top of your game, juglling the many facets of your life and keeping your own needs in balance with family needs.
Okay, I'm bluffing just a little. I wasn't totally in love just yet. At first I thought she was crazy. Balance? Seriously? Yeah right, I thought. I've been doing this mom thing for nearly five years and I've yet to find balance. How could Amy Tiemann believe that finding balance is really possible?
The more I read the more I discovered that as mother's we're often set up to fail. We've been told we
can have it all: the job, the husband, the family and still have time for ourselves. It's one of the greatest myths of motherhood, this having it all thing. Tiemann herself says, "Todays' new Moms were raised to believe that we could do anything. We are the
Free to Be...You and Me, women who grew up assured that opportunity and equality were our birthright." And that's when I really fell in love with this book.
Tiemann strips away the myths in the first chapter when she discusses the early months of motherhood, or
Life Inside the Cocoon. She discusses the first days after birth to the postpartum period, and offers advice on getting help if you think you may be suffering from postpartum depression. Motherhood is a marathon, she says, not a sprint. It is a marathon that is made easier with adequate support, but our culture frequently does a terrible job of supporting mothers and the difficult work they do.
Tiemann adresses the topic of going back to work. She talks about sex after baby arrives. She offers advice on asking for help when you just want to have a nap or take a shower.
My favorite is Chapter 4 in which Tiemann adresses mommy guilt and how to let go of it, as well as the worry and axiety.
She writes:
A contributing factor to Mom guilt is the cultural trend toward overinvolved hyperparenting. This can happen to anyone: Employed Moms may adopt this tendency to make up for lost time with their children, and stay-at-home Moms may become overinvolved to justify their time spent away from the paid workforce.
I found myself nodding my head throughout the entire chapter. For me, the hardest part of motherhood is the guilt. When I worked full time, I felt guilty for putting my son in daycare. In my head I felt like someone else was raising my child. Parenting was my job, and forty hours each week, I wasn't doing "my job" because I was working hard to pay the bills.
After a lay-off I became a stay-at-home mom for a few months and overcompensated for the time I was away at work by completely immersing myself in motherhood and hyperparenting. Now that I'm a work-at-home mom, some of the guilt has washed away because I'm able to spend more time with my son and contribute to our bank account as well.
There was only one part of this chapter that I wasn't in total agreement with. Tiemann discusses her belief that motherhood isn't really "the most important job in the world." She states, "It's not because motherhood is not important, and I fully acknowledge that motherhood is genuine, valuable work. However, on a personal identity level, Judith Stadtman Tucker, founder of the Mothers Movement Online, introduced me to the revelatoryidea that motherhood is not a job; it is a relationship."
It's true, I did protest at this statement because motherhood is the hardest
job relationship I've ever had to work at. College didn't prepare me for diaper blow-outs, colic and breastfeeding troubles. I had on-the-job training and it sucked for the first six months. No one hands me a paycheck for keeping the kid alive 168 hours a week.
As I let Tiemann's words sink in, I began to understand what she meant. The problem emerges when you begin to think of "motherhood as a professional outlet; you will start to expect motherhood to deliver the same rewards that a career does: measurable achievement, results, and advancement, and a sense of identity as you live your life through that role."
There was that word again: Identity. And the more I reflected on this new idea, the more I got it. Motherhood isn't a career. It's hard work, most definitely. There are rewards to being a mom, but they are different than those one receives in a career.
I could write my own book telling you about Amy Tiemann's book. Instead I highly reccommend that you read
Mojo Mom. It's honest and informative and I really enjoyed Tiemann's perspective on motherhood. (In fact, I feel like reading it again just before Baby #2 arrives.)
Thanks
Mothertalk.com for allowing me the opportunity to read and review
Mojo Mom.
