One of the first things I said to my son (after: “I think I’m going to drop him, he’s really slippery.”) was: ‘Hi there, nice to meet you. I anticipate you and I will have a healthy professional relationship until it develops into something more.’
I was lucky because I had so many people normalize the reality that some people don’t immediately fall madly in love with their baby. So, my lukewarm feelings didn’t worry or concern me… didn’t make me feel guilty or weird.
I proceeded to live up to the duties I committed to. I kept the small, foreign human alive, fed, and thriving to the best of my ability. Not because I loved him unconditionally — but because it was my moral obligation. As far as babies go, ours is pretty chill, but he’s still a baby. He cries a lot. And this whole parenting gig comes with some serious commitment factors.
Many things I was well aware of (and protested) in the earlier days of my pregnancy: Oh please don’t make me do it. I don’t want to be a sleep deprived wet-nurse to a weird little ball of flesh.
It was sort of this poetic justice kind of thing when all my fears, anxieties, and anticipated inadequacies were very much realized.
I have felt so incredibly inadequate as a mother. Even more so when I consider the people out there with much more challenging circumstances, and I’m over here with incredible support and resources, and I’m still struggling to stay afloat.
It’s weird when you don’t instantly bond. I don’t feel like a mother… not in the least. I feel like a caretaker. Like someone left him on the doorstep and it would be unethical to let him starve to death so I take care of him — until the more adult-y adults come to get him. Hello? Adult-y adults? Where are you? I have your baby.
I feel like I randomly woke up with the worst job ever. I have this boss that yells at me all the time and doesn’t speak English, and Google-translate is no help. I’m guessing all the time. And I’m usually wrong. Which leads to more yelling. It’s a real confidence booster. So yeah, this parenting gig, not for me.
Anyone willing to come pick up an 11lb newborn please message me and I’ll give you my address. What’s a reasonable price for these things? $100 sound fair? I’ll throw in some diapers and a rattle or something.
I know that I should be grateful. I have an incredibly healthy baby. We had an uneventful and peaceful birth. My husband is a hugely supportive partner, and an enthusiastic and active parent. We have an amazing community of support. I shouldn’t be so dramatic. I should not be feeling what I’m feeling.
But isn’t that just the lovely thing about feelings? They are irrational, illogical, and wreak all sorts of havoc on an otherwise (often) sane human being’s (usually) healthy mind.
Not to mention I can get into a wicked guilt spiral about having negative feelings when I should feel happy to have the beautiful, exquisite privilege of raising an infant. #firstworldproblems
In summary, my spawn continues to thrive. And I will continue to persevere through the cesspool of complex, hormone-fuelled emotions that cloud my mind every other day.
Hats off to mothers everywhere. This gig is messed up.
Tanya Ryan is a local singer/songwriter with an appetite for life and learning. #LightSideUp is for the candid exploration of everyday life, events, emotions, and stories with the intention of finding the lessons and teachings buried in the normalcy of daily living.
