Honest Mama

For the From Left to Write Book Club, I read Exploiting My Baby by Teresa Strasser, a refreshingly honest memoir of pregnancy and childbirth. This post was inspired by that book.

During my first pregnancy I sometimes thought there was something wrong with me, like maybe I was missing a mom gene. I never got the warm fuzzies when thinking about myself being pregnant. I didn't cradle my belly or hold conversations with my mid-section. In pre-natal yoga, I internally (and possibly externally) rolled my eyes when the teacher asked us to put one hand on our heart and the other on our baby and thank ourselves for blah, blah, blah. I was more likely to refer to the baby as "the situation" (long before Jersey Shore, mind you). To me, being pregnant was a job. Nothing to feel warm and fuzzy about. Nine months of incubation then an infant. That's the situation, right?

I'm just not warm and fuzzy about stuff like that. I'm too literal. And, now that I'm pregnant again, I've gotta admit, not much has changed. I still kind of feel like a vessel. I just have a better idea of the pay off and the overwhelming sense of love I'll feel when the baby is actually born. But, it hasn't changed how I'm dealing with pregnancy since the first time.

Other moms look at me like I'm crazy when I admit this kind of stuff. But, why would I lie about it? I'm not the only mom who feels this way, right? Right?

After I first had W I was determined to dispel the "everything is perfect" mommy myth. I told everyone who would listen that pregnancy was nine months of constipation, adult onset acne, and people being really nice to you. And, no, you won't glow or feel sexy, but you will be the focus of everyone's attention, if you're into that sort of thing. And then when you have a baby... It will be isolating and scary and you'll have moments of never wanting to leave the house, but it gets better - Especially if you don't pay attention to those Facebook updates of the Super Moms who popped out a baby, ran ten miles, jumped back into their pre-pregnancy jeans, and baked muffins for their new mom group all while being well groomed and trying to convince themselves that moms can have it all.

So, yeah, when I read a memoir like this, I feel a teensy bit justified. Or at least not quite so alone. More moms should be honest with each other. We should admit to each other that it can be hard, it can be scary, you may not shower for days on end, you will start crying from lack of sleep and breastfeeding frustration, but millions of idiots have managed to do this Mom job. If they can do it, so can you. Maybe it isn't the best pep talk, but it's the one I give. It's never a good idea to make another mom feel like there's something wrong with her or that she isn't living up to the mom role.

Sure, I have my moments of getting all mushy about my crazy adorable, sweet little guy. I don't often admit it, but like most moms I also have the moments of paralyzing fear that something might happen to him or me, that someone might be mean to him one day. I can say that being a mom has become my most important role in life and keep a straight face. (OK, I might kind of smirk or laugh when I admit it.) Regardless of how mushy I get, that's not what makes me a good mom or not. I grew into a pretty good mom on my own terms (if I do say so myself). But, I had to do it my way.

This post was inspired by the book "Exploiting My Baby," by Teresa Strasser, which I received complimentary as a part of the From Right to Left Book Club. See how other bloggers were inspired by this book here.