As if this radical change in identity and self-awareness were not destabilizing enough, for a majority of women it is occurring against the backdrop of a changing marriage or intimate relationship. While we are trying to make peace with the different face staring back at us in the mirror, we are also standing on shifting sand because a marital metamorphosis is under way. It is no wonder at all that so many of us feel we are teetering on the edge of insanity at various points early on in motherhood. If we had the capacity to see any of this while it’s happening the way I’m describing it now—with understanding, justifications and explanations, gentleness, and compassion for ourselves—we would be far, far better off.
Years ago I was taken by the beauty and truth of Naomi Shihab Nye’s poem “Kindness,”4 in which it is written:
Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth
Nye’s poem is about how we come to know kindness, and not necessarily fulfillment or self-understanding, and it’s not a poem about motherhood. Still, her words are with me always, somewhere in the background, as harbingers of what happens to us when we become mothers. We lose things. We feel our fictitious futures vanish, sometimes in an instant, sometimes in a slow, steady evaporation that we are most reluctant to acknowledge.
But in the end, it is through loss that we stand a chance to gain. In the realm of our most primitive and most significant relationships—in the realm of mother love and romantic love—our expectations of how things should be are most abundant. They are deep and insistent and often outside our awareness, and they cast a constant evaluative shadow over how things are. What if we could let go of our illusions about how things would one day be, or could be, or should be? What if, in loosening our hold on these expectations, they also loosen their hold on us?
To become mothers is to become more fully aware of who we are. To become coparents is to come into greater contact with our partners, and to become more fully aware of who they are. In order to find well-being in the terrain of motherhood, we must accept the loss of so many illusions, not least of which are illusions about the bliss children will bring and the extent to which our spouses will share the burden and support us. The greatest loss of all may be our illusions about who we are and what kind of mothers we will be. When these illusions are acknowledged and grieved, we find some measure of peace in the acceptance of how things actually are and who we actually are.
The Colors of Love and Fire
One evening as we were cuddling after dinner, then four-year-old Quinn said to me, “I want to paint the living room red and orange.” “Why red and orange?” I asked. He looked at me precociously, and even a little wearily, as if he felt the reason was obvious and was dismayed that I did not. Then he declared, emphatically, “The colors of love and fire!”
It’s been several years since Quinn said those words, and still they echo in my mind—it was a Buddha moment for sure. With his inspired home-décor ideas, my son was telling me about his perception of the place we call home. I would love to think that Quinn sees our family, and our daily lives unfolding within the walls of this house, as characterized by love and “fire”—warmth, passion, energy. I tell myself that maybe he is declaring he would like the colors of our walls to reflect what already is, to signify a family life lived in vibrant color and anchored by abundant, unconditional love.
Of course, it could also be that there is no greater meaning in his words. Maybe he was just staring at the blazing logs in the woodstove and realized how much he likes hues of orange and red. I don’t know exactly what he meant, and the thing is, I didn’t ask. I won’t ask. The wondering is too valuable to me, too full of promise. I don’t want to foreclose it by saying, “Hey, what exactly did you mean when you said that?” Because in my wondering, I consider the possibility that no matter how insistent the guilt, no matter how constantly I aspire to do better or wish I had more patience or more hours in the day to do and say what’s important, or how maddening the noise and the chaos is, there is something far more important we are doing right. Everybody is very much alive in this house. Love is not contingent upon the disavowal or suppressing of aspects of self, for any of us. Love is not a finite resource. There is enough for everyone, and there is room for everything—emotions of any and every kind, mishaps and messes, creative endeavors and dreams, failures and successes, longings and fulfillments.
It’s not that I have arrived at some exalted place where I deserve a gold star for mastering the changes brought on by motherhood. If only that were possible, but it most certainly is not—not for me, or anyone else. It is a constant work in progress. Striving for some unattainable fantasy version of ourselves, our children, or our relationships only brings heartache. It blinds us to the value and beauty in what already is, because we are too caught up in shame or resentment or self-improvement crusades to take in whatever the present moment may be offering. Contentment comes when we embrace, rather than deny or distort or resist or conceal or judge, all of what comes up in the endlessly complicated world of mothering. This is my hope for every woman, every marriage, every child, every family. Love unchained from illusions, and lives lived in full color.
Acknowledgments
This book has been many years in the making, so many that my gratitude for those who contributed to its completion stretches far and wide, and I fear I won’t be able to capture it in words.
First, I will forever be indebted to my friend Donna Freitas, who absolutely insisted one fateful day that I show her the untamed beast of a manuscript that I had kept hidden from everyone until then. Her enthusiastically affirming response to what she read not only compelled her to connect me with her agent, but also renewed my faith in my own work and lit a fire in me that burned steadily until the book was finished. Without Donna and the doors she opened for me, I simply would not be here, putting the final touches on a soon-to-be-published book.
For her guidance and support, her insight, and her expert navigation of a world brand-new to me, I am deeply grateful for my incredible agent, Miriam Altshuler. Like Donna, she believed in this book immediately, and I was honored and heartened by her willingness to invest energy in finding the book a home. She took a huge leap of faith in agreeing to represent me, and I hope I have made her proud. My extraordinary editor, Julie Will, took that same leap of faith by signing on for this project with a first-time author, and I really don’t know how I got so lucky. From our first phone conversation, I knew this was a meeting of two very compatible minds. Her vision, her editorial skill, and her razor-sharp attention to the nuances of the material are gifts for which I will always be grateful. That she happened also to be a new mother while editing this book was a great fortune that, I am certain, helped to keep every sentence in closer alignment with what new moms most need to hear. Our collaborative process in shaping this book into its best possible form was tremendously fulfilling. Having both Miriam and Julie in my corner, championing this book and what my voice can uniquely contribute, has been dreamy.
To the many other women in my village, both literal and figurative, who have cheered me on and supported me in so many crucial ways, I am forever thankful. I am especially grateful to Kathryn Wyatt for her nurturing friendship, and to Lisa Nading for her sustained and heartfelt interest in the fruits of my creative processes. I’m thankful also to Moira Cook, Kylie Wolgamott, Valerie Racine, Sharon Lamb, Sharon Sullivan, and Gracie Engel Peirce, all of whom contributed to this work in important ways: sharing their stories of motherhood and wifehood, encouraging me and believing in me, engaging with me in thoughtful and inspiring conversation, and celebrating with me when it finally seemed that my years of writing would morph into an actual published book.
I am immeasurably grateful to Kate Longmaid, in whose eyes I see the light of my own possibilities and with whom, through countless hours of dialogue and connection, I have cultivated whatever wisdom i
s found in these pages.
I offer my enduring appreciation to my clients, who have invited me into their private worlds and entrusted me with their stories. For these privileges I am deeply honored. Again and again, I have been humbled and inspired by the strength and the vulnerability of the people with whom I share such an intimate, brave space of connection and self-reflection.
I am grateful to my mother, Carol Millwood, for whom reading some of the material in this book meant having to revise her story of who I am and how I think about certain aspects of my upbringing. This revision was not easy, I know, and yet in her feedback for me, she led with genuine awe and respect for what I accomplished. She is proud of me like only a mother can be.
For my sister-in-law and brother-in-law, Tally Pucher and Brendan Parent, I am so grateful; they have cheered me on and eagerly anticipated this book as they cross the threshold into parenthood. In return for all their interest, support, and love, I hope my words help them rest a little easier in their new roles.
Finally and most importantly, from the deepest place in my heart I thank my husband, Ari Kirshenbaum, and our children, Noah and Quinn. Besides the grist for the mill of this book they provided to me, they provided also their support and a shared, unwavering confidence in my ability to carry out a project of such epic proportions. Despite the enormous amount of time it took me away from them, somehow it seemed all three of them were genuinely more proud of me than resentful. Noah showed a degree of interest in my work that is very unusual for a boy his age, and speaks volumes about his deep well of empathy and his curiosity about human nature. Quinn—who has never even known a mom who wasn’t working in one way or another on this book—brought his characteristic energy, tenderness, and enthusiasm to the table whenever I was weary. I can only hope I have modeled for them how to be a whole person, who loves hard and works hard, and that one day the messages in this book will guide them in their efforts to be loving partners and soothe them during their own trying times as parents. Ari, whose generosity knows no bounds, gave to me endlessly through all the years it took to bring this book to fruition. Far surpassing the hundreds of hours of solo parenting and the hundreds of nourishing dinners, his ways of supporting me really cannot be quantified. He has always been the greatest believer in what I have to say, never doubting me even when I so persuasively doubt myself. He is the best thing that ever happened to me, and my biggest gratitude of all is for him.
Notes
Introduction
1. These false dichotomies, when endorsed as they so readily are, foreclose the possibility of dialectical thinking. “Dialectics” refers to the juxtaposition of conflicting ideas, forces, feelings, and so on. Dialectical thinking, then, means holding in mind, acknowledging as so, the existence of seemingly opposite truths. People generally struggle with this to greater or lesser degrees, and within the psychological literature it has been suggested that difficulty thinking in dialectical terms is the source of much suffering. Dialectical thinking can thus be viewed as a tool to alleviate suffering, and some models of psychotherapy (e.g., Dialectical Behavior Therapy, Acceptance and Commitment Therapy) are predicated on this notion.
2. Writing ten years later about her 1976 classic Of Woman Born, author and poet Adrienne Rich says it was “both praised and attacked for what was sometimes seen as its odd-fangled approach: personal testimony mingled with research, and theory which derived from both. But this approach never seemed odd to me in the writing. What still seems odd is the absentee author, the writer who lays down speculations, theories, facts, and fantasies without any personal grounding.” I very much agree, and it is in this same spirit that I have written this book.
3. Adrienne Rich, Of Woman Born (New York: W. W. Norton, 1986), 15.
1: Women Transformed
1. E. Perel, “When Three Threatens Two: Must Parenthood Bring Down the Curtain on Romance?” Psychotherapy Networker, September/October 2006.
2. “Postpartum Depression: Women’s Accounts of Loss and Change,” in Situating Sadness: Women and Depression in Social Context, eds. J. M. Stoppard and L. M. McMullen (New York: NYU Press, 2003), 133.
3. “Writings from a Birth Year,” in Finding Your Inner Mama: Women Reflect on the Challenges and Rewards of Motherhood, ed. E. Steinberg (Boston & London: Trumpeter Books, 2005), 5.
2: Out of the Shame Hole
1. S. Maushart, The Mask of Motherhood: How Becoming a Mother Changes Our Lives and Why We Never Talk About It (New York: Penguin Books, 1999), 57.
2. J. L. Bevan, R. Gomez, and L. Sparks, “Disclosures about Important Life Events on Facebook: Relationships with Stress and Quality of Life,” Computers in Human Behavior 39 (October 2014): 246–53.
3. R. Kraut et al., “Internet Paradox: A Social Technology that Reduces Social Involvement and Psychological Well-Being?” American Psychologist 53, no. 9 (September 1998): 1017–31.
4. R. Pea et al., “Media Use, Face-to-Face Communication, Media Multitasking, and Social Well-Being Among 8- to 12-Year-Old Girls,” Developmental Psychology 48, no. 2 (March 2012): 327–36.
5. M. Indian and R. Grieve, “When Facebook Is Easier than Face-to-Face: Social Support Derived from Facebook in Socially Anxious Individuals,” Personality & Individual Differences 59 (2014): 102–6.
6. C. Y. Liu and C. P. Yu, “Can Facebook Use Induce Well-Being?” Cyberpsychology, Behavior, and Social Networking 16 (2013): 674–78.
7. W. McCloskey, S. Iwanicki, D. Lauterbach, D. M. Giammittorio, and K. Maxwell, “Are Facebook ‘Friends’ Helpful? Development of a Facebook-Based Measure of Social Support and Examination of Relationships Among Depression, Quality of Life, and Social Support,” Cyberpsychology, Behavior, and Social Networking 18 (2015): 499–505.
8. American Psychological Association, Monitor on Psychology, October 2010, 21; emphasis added.
9. G. Rubin, The Happiness Project (New York: HarperCollins, 2009), 91.
10. J. M. Gottman and C. J. Notarius, “Marital Research in the 20th Century and a Research Agenda for the 21st Century,” Family Process 41 (2002): 159–97.
11. J. M. Twenge, W. K. Campbell, and C. A. Foster, “Parenthood and Marital Satisfaction: A Meta-Analytic Review,” Journal of Marriage and Family 65, no. 3 (2003): 574–83; M. J. Cox et al., “Marital Perceptions and Interactions Across the Transition to Parenthood,” Journal of Marriage and Family 61 (1999): 611–25; D. G. Knauth, “Predictors of Parental Sense of Competence for the Couple During the Transition to Parenthood,” Research in Nursing & Health 23 (2000): 496–509.
12. M. McGoldrick and B. Carter, “The Family Life Cycle,” in Normal Family Processes: Growing Diversity and Complexity, 3rd ed., ed. F. Walsh (New York: Guilford Press, 2003), 375–98.
13. The reverse is not true; marital therapy does not treat men’s individual depression as effectively. This is quite an interesting finding in itself, in that it points to a stronger relational basis for women’s depression than men’s. See M. R. Goldfarb, G. Trudel, R. Boyer, and M. Preville, “Marital Relationship and Psychological Distress: Its Correlates and Treatments,” Sexual and Relationship Therapy 22, no. 1 (2007): 109–26. Overall, however, research demonstrates a strong link between individual mental health and marital functioning. For instance, D. K. Snyder, A. M. Castellani, and M. A. Whisman, “Current Status and Future Directions in Couple Therapy,” Annual Review of Psychology 57 (2006): 317–44 reported that people experiencing marital discord are overrepresented within the population of individuals seeking mental health services, regardless of whether marital strain is their primary complaint.
14. In women, depression levels are linked with hostility in their spouses (B. H. Brummet et al., “Hostility in Marital Dyads: Associations with Depressive Symptoms,” Journal of Behavioral Medicine 23 [2000]: 95–105), but again, the reverse is not true. Longitudinal studies show that among women, marital dissatisfaction is correlated with later depression (Goldfarb et al., “Marital Relationship and Psychological Distress”). In addition, large epidemiological
studies that control for distress in relationships with friends, relatives, and colleagues find that marital distress is uniquely correlated with mental health concerns, above and beyond the contributions of general social discord (M. A. Whisman, C. T. Sheldon, and P. Goering, “Psychiatric Disorders and Dissatisfaction with Social Relationships: Does Type of Relationship Matter?” Journal of Abnormal Psychology 109 [2000]: 803–8). Indeed, in what are known as “attributable risk analyses,” it has been determined that 30 percent of all cases of depression, in both women and men, could be prevented if marital distress were prevented or ameliorated (M. A. Whisman and M. L. Bruce, “Marital Dissatisfaction and Incidence of Major Depressive Episode in a Community Sample,” Journal of Abnormal Psychology 108 [2001]: 674–78).
15. P. Nettelbladt, M. Uddenberg, and I. Englesson, “Marital Disharmony Four and a Half Years Postpartum: Effects on Parent-Child Relationships and Child Development,” Acta Psychiatrica Scandinavica 71, no. 4 (1985): 392–401.
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