BEING A MOTHER

 

Donald W. Winnicott meets Elizabeth Badinter, but not in real life.

As Simone de Beauvoir famously posited, becoming a woman starts with the birth of the first child and is a life-long achievement. Becoming a mother starts at childbirth, and it never ends either. Once a child is born, mothers are expected to care for and educate them. The art of motherhood is complex, and women are often overwhelmed by the challenges it entails. Many they have somewhat mastered the art of motherhood only once their children are grown.

The ability to become a mother is limited in time due to what is often called the biological clock. On the other hand, contraception enables women to control procreation during the time they are fertile. By the late seventies, thanks to the contraceptive pill, women could better monitor reproduction and, for example, give priority to professional ambitions and choose to remain childless. Nowadays, more often than not, the child to be born is one they consciously decide to bring into the world.

Like many women, I took the pill and I chose to become a mother only at the age of twenty-five, after graduating and starting a stable job. My first daughter was born in 1999, and two years later, I had another daughter. Thanks to maternity allowance, I stayed at home and took care of them for two and a half years. Mothering made me feel valued and boosted my self-esteem. It was more satisfying and more fulfilling than my job. Taking care of my two daughters has been a comforting experience.

I could make the most of each moment with my children, I cooked meals for the family and made jars of baby food. Soups and desserts were home-made. I could walk my girls in a double stroller and we were happy to visit all the playgrounds of the area. Playgrounds are ideal places where children can share happy moments with other children. They are also privileged places for mothers who can make friends with the mothers and grandmothers of the other children. Since my husband was reluctant to share the household chores, me staying home was what we both wanted and I felt it was working out for the best.

For me, becoming a mother corresponded to a deep-rooted desire. When I think back to this period when I made the decision to be a mother and to take a long parental leave, I realise that it was the best time in my life. I could really enjoy quality time with my daughters and I was not tired, I really felt radiant as a mother. Having children was the most important decision of my life and the most deeply moving experience.

Giving birth to a child is a long-term commitment. When my daughters were born, they became my priority. I did not miss my job, I did not wonder whether my children would impede my professional career and was glad I did not have to juggle between a demanding career and the education of my children. I did not intend to devote my life to my career. I had been in school until the age of twenty-three, and the years I had spent teaching English to challenging students had made me realise that my job would not bring me true fulfilment as a woman. I had no apprehension about the consequences it could have on my relationship and I did not question what would happen when I would have to go back to work. I was not prepared for the difficulty of reconciling my job as a mother and my work as a teacher. And even if I had, I would have made the same decision.

I was not the best teacher, I believe I lacked authority in the classroom. I wanted to earn a living, to have a professional life in order to become financially independent, but I was not fully devoted to my career. I was more what Elizabeth Badinter calls a “neotraditional” woman than a “modern” one, meaning I prioritised family life over my career. Being a “mother” was my priority. My daughters had not asked to be born, I had chosen to give birth to them, it was my role to protect them the best I could and to educate them as well as I could. I could see, as a teacher in classes often complicated to deal with, to what extent a pupil’s misconduct could have heavy consequences on the atmosphere of a whole class and on society on a large scale. I did not know any recipe, but I had values to transmit and I knew that to avoid educational skids, it was necessary to establish the basis for respect. And I was certainly better at it at home than in the classroom.

For years I had shared a life filled with joys and challenges with my husband, building a family together and dreaming of a bright future. I poured my heart into raising our first child, trying to keep our home warm and loving despite the everyday struggles between work and family life. We had moments of happiness, but also times of misunderstanding and distance. Then, after the birth of our second child, everything got worse. One day, out of the blue, the father of my children left us. He sat me down and, with a heavy heart, told me he no longer loved me. That moment shattered everything I had planned for us, turning my once stable life into a much more complicated one.

After the separation, the emotional blow to my self-esteem and social status was significant affecting both how I perceived myself and my abilities as a mother. I had no partner to protect me or to value me as a mother. The challenge I faced was daunting. I had difficulties with the bank due to the mortgage on the new house, and dealing alone with constant calls at work when my daughters were ill.There was no one to help with the chores or to share in the responsibility of raising the girls. The father showed no interest in the girls’ education and told me outright that I would have to raise them alone, warning me not to call him if any problems arose because he would not help. Financially, I shouldered almost the entire burden as the child support was minimal. I was working tirelessly to provide for my family. When I fell ill and experienced depression, it became even harder to care for the girls, further complicating the financial situation. Money problems, combined with emotional and social pressure, deeply impacted my well-being and my confidence as a mother. How could I become a good mother without the help of the father? How could I be a loving, caring and efficient mother without a loving husband? As a teacher in secondary school I had to work overtime, teaching English to small children in primary school just to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. From the moment he left, I had to juggle with my professional career and the education of my two daughters, alone, while the father was dating other women.

As a single mother I found myself at the heart of three contradictions. The first contradiction was marital. Children mean lack of sleep and intimacy, constraints and sacrifices. Many fathers start looking for a woman who is more available. Many couples break up three-years after the birth of a child. I was within the standard. The second contradiction was professional. My schedule was too full and included Saturday mornings, and since my parents lived too far, I had to hire a nanny. The most painful contradiction I experienced was feeling torn between my children and my personal ambition as a teacher but fortunately, I saw myself more as a mother than as a working woman. I have always deeply desired to have children, and I believe that if I hadn’t experienced a divorce, I might have had many. For me, becoming a mother felt like a true calling, just as I feel a strong passion for my work now that my daughters are grown up.

A child is the masterpiece of a whole life, it is an exhilarating creation with which no other can compete. Watching over them, taking care of them, helping them to develop step by step, hoping to have one day the joy and the pride to see them become a fulfilled adult is not a modest ambition. But it can only happen if both mother and child enjoy the process.

I could not give up my job to become an “exclusive” mother, but I think I have been an “intensive” one (1). The needs of my children have always been at the center of my life. I am deeply involved emotionally as a mother. I am always happy to devote my time and my energy to my two daughters. As Elizabeth Badinter suggests it in her book, titled The Conflict: woman and mother, the experience of motherhood is irreplaceable, with on the one hand, the love given and received, the importance of transmission and the continuity of life, and on the other hand, the frustrations, the daily pressure, the self-sacrifice and the unavoidable conflicts. Sometimes there is also the feeling of failure as a mother and the guilt that goes along with it.

As a single mother, I faced many frustrations. When I had enough money for the cinema or holidays, I often chose activities and destinations my daughters would enjoy. Being single meant sacrifices and I always prioritised my children’s well-being over my own. When money was short, I could not afford nice clothes for myself, but when I did, it brought me great satisfaction.

Raising children alone also brought unavoidable conflicts, like setting limits on video game or phone use, which inevitably made the girls say they’d rather live with their father. I had to manage financial struggles, educational concerns, and the daily pressure of working, often overtime, to provide for their basic needs and to finance their education. I frequently felt frustrated and worried I might fail as a mother.

Now that my daughters are grown and pursuing fulfilling careers, I am proud of what I have achieved alone. Though I often felt discouraged and uncertain about their future, I now know it is possible to raise children alone and help them succeed.

I know that I have not been and that I will never be a “perfect” mother, but I have done my best in spite of the obstacles on my way to motherhood. I have tried to provide for what my daughters needed, and knowing that I have not been a perfect mother, I hope to have been “a good-enough one”: “The good-enough mother (…) starts off with an almost complete adaptation to her infant’s needs, and as time proceeds, she adapts less and less completely, gradually, according to the infant’s growing ability to deal with her failures.” (2)

References:

(1) Blum, Linda. At the Breast: Ideologies of Breastfeeding and Motherhood in the Contemporary United States, 1999. 

(2) Winnicott, Donald. W. “Transitional Objects and Transitional Phenomena: A Study of the First Not-Me Possession.” International Journal of Psycho-Analysis, 34, 89–97. 1953.

 

 

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