How I became a Mother by Lessie
(We’ve had a specific reader request for stories about “becoming a mother” of older adoptive children. If you are such a reader, please consider submitting your story.)
by Lessie,
Funny what an emotionally charged topic motherhood is. Especially for Latter-Day Saints. In my own experience, it was this emotional charge that lead me to have my children—probably not under ideal circumstances either. I also think that, ironically, issues surrounding motherhood and women were what eventually lead to my leaving the Church. While I’m sure no one wants my personal life history, I feel it is integral to the whys and hows of my having my first child and the spiritual, mental, and emotional crises surrounding that event.
My own mother had three children—one with her first husband (neither of them were members at the time) and two with mine and my sister’s father (a member who is now agnostic). My mother would probably have had several more except for some reproductive issues that she’s never really illuminated to me and my sister. So, in order to make up for her lack of children, she has, for as long as I can remember, expected my sister and I to make up the difference. I can remember, as a small child (three or four, perhaps) having my mom say to me, “When you grow up, you’re going to have twelve grand babies for Mommy aren’t you?” As a three year old, I was more than willing to comply. As I got older I slowly let go of that willingness.
By the time I was six or seven, I was in Brownies and they were having a career night in which we were supposed to dress up as what we wanted to be when we grew up. My sister and I—much to our embarrassment—had forgotten to dress up. We looked at our mom for help (because as six year olds, it’s embarrassing not to dress up) and she volunteered to go home and get our aprons so that we could be mothers. I expressed my distaste and my mom said something to the effect of, “I’m a mother, what’s wrong with mothers?” I felt bad, so I shut up and put on the apron. To my six year old brain, being a mom seemed boring when I could be an artist or a nurse (two of the things I can remember wanting to be at that age).
When I was in middle school/high school, I wanted to work with horses. Before I hit my full height, I wanted to be jockey. I had read a series about girls who worked with race horses and I thought being a jockey would be the perfect way to be around horses. I told my mom and she said it was a bad idea. “People gamble on horse races, and you don’t want to be a part of that. Besides, jockeys have to travel, and that’s not good for children. You can’t be a good mom and be a jockey.”
By the time I graduated from high school, I had decided that I didn’t want to get married, and I didn’t want to have kids. I had done a last minute one eighty and decided that rather than go into agriculture, I would go into English and eventually pursue a PhD in Linguistics. I would teach. Ironically, I picked Ricks College to start myself on this path.
At Ricks, (changed the next year to Brigham Young University-Idaho) I began taking the required religion courses. For a zealous, stalwart youth, these were a dream come true. Finally, deep doctrine! And, coincidentally with the semesters just before and after I got married, three consecutive teachers who strongly condemned birth control and advocated having one’s family according to the Lord’s word. I was inundated with quotes (both old and new) about the importance of not waiting to have children, about the urgent need to start one’s family immediately regardless of education or financial stability. Indeed, one teacher interpreted the parable of the talents to mean the number of children we would be given here in this life and in the next. Much to my future hubby’s dismay, I bought into these ideas wholesale and refused to go on birth control when we got married. We both wanted to wait two years before having children and I was under the impression that if I prayed about it, Heavenly Father would grant us two childless years.
Within six months of getting married, I had a miscarriage before I even knew I was pregnant (I was woefully naïve). Three months later, I found out I was pregnant again. Due to my hubby’s own gross naïveté, he was horrified at what the doctors did to determine my pregnancy and examine me for a pap smear. For the rest of my pregnancy, we argued severely after every doctor’s appointment. He was so freaked out when I delivered, that a nurse called the police in to talk to him. I was devastated. I grieved that I had brought an infant into such a volatile relationship. I wanted to leave, but felt that I needed to at least give our relationship one more chance before rushing into a divorce. Unfortunately, it took us three years to finally seek the counseling we needed to heal from the trauma of that first pregnancy and birth.
In that time, I had begun to question a lot. I had finally figured out that, as long as two people are both fertile, they’re going to get pregnant if they have sex without birth control. The amount of single teen births proved that. I realized finally that God wasn’t going to prevent me from getting pregnant if I continued to engage in unprotected sex no matter how hard I prayed about it. I realized that my mom, the religion teachers, and the General Authorities they quoted had absolutely no business telling me how to order my reproductive life—regardless of how well they meant their council. It took me a long time to finally decide to get pregnant again. I did however, and now I have two wonderful little boys. My oldest is three (four on Halloween), and my youngest is seven months. We found out recently that our youngest son was born blind. A challenge to be sure, but something we’re ready to tackle now that we’ve found out more information and have been connected to a fabulous support network.
Now that I have all that out of my system, let me reassure everyone that I love my two boys more than I ever thought possible and that they make me very happy. However, motherhood isn’t for me what it is for some women. Motherhood isn’t about your children fulfilling you; it’s about you fulfilling your children. I’ve finally learned to be at peace with that and not get bothered by differing feelings about motherhood. Everyone is different and will feel differently about their children. As long as they love their children and are willing to make the necessary sacrifices to keep them healthy and happy, then there is room for these differences. Lastly, while I don’t regret my boys, I do regret the ignorance under which the first one was born. If I had known the things then that I know now, my first little boy probably would have had a much happier mommy in the first couple years of his life.
Thanks for the post. My wife and I heard similar statements from well-intentioned family members. However - a wise leader indicated that the current counsel at that time (this was early 90s) was that the Brethren’s teaching was that the use of birth control was up to the couple, and that the mandates about “not unnecessarily delaying a family” had nothing to do with the use of birth control. [More people use the “I need to spend the next 8 years in grad school before I have kids” tactic.] In our case, we waited until we graduated (2 years later - we had been moving back and forth across the country) and got pregnant almost immediately after graduation. In our minds, we didn’t wait needlessly, because we couldn’t have afforded the pregnancy and the complications and surgery on BYU insurance. (My wife probably would have died on the BYU insurance).
That, and I would never use a BYU religion department as an accurate source for doctrine.
Comment by queuno — August 14, 2007 @ 11:54 am
That, and I would never use a BYU religion department as an accurate source for doctrine.
Alas, I wasn’t so worldly wise at the time.
Comment by Lessie — August 14, 2007 @ 12:06 pm
(We were aided a bit in that my wife’s family had NO expectation of us having children for a few years. My parents were too afraid to ask. My relatives, unfortunately, had no such qualms.)
Comment by queuno — August 14, 2007 @ 12:07 pm
I think my education into the BYU religion started early. I had Reed Benson for BoM. He spent the entire semester teaching us catchy little phrases like, “All that is necessary for evil to prevail is (finish the sentence)”. He also spent the semester talking about his dissertation in home schooling. He brought in his wife to tell the girls to prepare for the return of polygamy.
I had missionary prep my second semester. You got an A if you got your call during the class. Alas, I received mine a week after (I still got an A).
After my mission, I had one of the founders of a local restaurant chain as a guest instructor. He was probably the best teacher I ever had, because he was willing to actually TEACH and ENGAGE discussion and not pontificate.
I was part of a group advocating for Pass/Fail religion classes at BYU. Unfortunately, no one ever listened to us (maybe that’s a good thing).
Comment by queuno — August 14, 2007 @ 12:11 pm
I guess I am missing where, when and why you left the church? I would love to know about how that was connected to giving birth…more specifics…? perhaps?
Comment by Kage — August 14, 2007 @ 12:13 pm
You understand that this is not simply being niave? This is abnormal. The nurse had to call the police!?
Millions of couples have babies every year, I doubt the police attend many of the births.
Comment by MAC — August 14, 2007 @ 12:34 pm
I found your post to be very interesting and this was perhaps my favorite comment. I’m 28, a mom to 2 kids and I’m bewildered when I read about people commenting that motherhood doesn’t fulfill them. No kidding. I have no idea where this idea comes from that motherhood (in particular) is about mothers. Thanks for sharing your thoughts.
Comment by Anon Utah Mom — August 14, 2007 @ 12:44 pm
Lessie,
I too love the quote about fulfillment.
Ever since our discussion about this, I have been dying for you to write about it. I think there is a lot of good that can come from your story.
I really want to restate my question to you (remember? the snacker) in this post, but dare to. the wrath from the women on this blog would be too great.
ps I think of you often.
Comment by mfranti — August 14, 2007 @ 1:10 pm
Great story. Thanks for sharing. My own leap into motherhhood started, more or less, with a conversation in my brain with one of my very least favorite radio stars, Dr. Laura Schlessinger. It went like this:
me: What if my marriage isn’t strong enough to handle the sudden adoption of my husband’s three orphaned nieces?
Dr. Laura: Are you worried about the three A’s in your marriage: addiction, adultery, or abuse?
me: of course not, our marital issues are quite minor.
Dr. Laura: well you’ve got a huge decision to make, then, because if you bring these three children into your family, you owe it to them to keep that family intact until the youngest is 18.
me: (huge breath) ok, I can commit to that. Let’s do it.
I used to listen to Dr. Laura for pure entertainment, but I gotta admit the moral clarity of this situation her made up voice provided was so nice. And I haven’t really looked back since. Two years later DH wants a baby and I’m feeling pretty sure I’m ready to extend that lease on my marriage another 18 whole years.
Comment by Amy — August 14, 2007 @ 1:36 pm
Queuno, pass/fail religion classes would be wonderful to a large extent. I suppose I could see the potential for a few minor problems, but overall I think they would be an excellent idea. It also sounds like you had a few kooky teachers as well. I don’t know how it is at BYU, but at BYU-I, they pretty much have free rein to say anything they want.
Kage #5–I realize that I left out those details. I probably should have deleted that sentence from the post since it really doesn’t fit with the rest of the essay. Also, I realize my opinions about childbirth are rather radical, so just be aware. When I was pregnant with my second son, I was watching some childbirth education videos. Watching these women have babies struck me as very biological rather than very holy. It was reminiscent of the days I spent in agriculture ed. and on a friend’s ranch watching cows give birth. Then, when I was giving birth to my son, the vulnerability of the situation was almost overwhelming. I realized the immense amount of trust I was putting in my care providers to not harm me when I was in such a defenseless situation, and I felt that asking women to do this and making it sound like it was their only means of salvation was wrong. Yes, if women want to give birth, let them. However, I thought it was misleading to not tell women how completely powerless they are during childbirth (I realize I have issues here). There are other things, but they don’t relate specifically to childbirth.
MAC–yes, I’m aware that my DH’s behavior was abnormal. As I said, we went through a lot of counseling in which we were finally able to resolve our differing feelings on the issue. The birth of my second son was the complete opposite. We were a fantastic team and he was there for me every step of the way.
mfranti–I remember the snacker, but I’m afraid I don’t remember your specific question (that was sometime around three or four in the morning wasn’t it?
Feel free to e-mail me. One of the permas can give you my address or if you want, you can go ahead and state the question here. Where’s your sense of adventure? hehe.
Comment by Lessie — August 14, 2007 @ 1:45 pm
Amy, we must have cross posted. Laura Schlessinger is indeed the devil incarnate. I’m glad her hypothetical was able to help you help someone else though.
Comment by Lessie — August 14, 2007 @ 1:49 pm
Oh, and Anon Utah Mom, I totally agree. I hear people say there’s no greater fulfillment than motherhood and I just want to screech. As I said, I love my children, but I found out very quickly that my job is to fulfill them and not expect them to help me with my personal fulfillment (and Kage, this is another part of my issue, but maybe I can go there later if you have more questions).
Comment by Lessie — August 14, 2007 @ 1:53 pm
i just don’t have it in me to push any buttons today.
but it had something to do with “do you know why you had children?”
your response to that question has been in my head for months.
Comment by mfranti — August 14, 2007 @ 1:55 pm
Lessie: I don’t really like Dr. Laura, either. And I only ever listened in a “love to hate her” sort of way. But I gotta admit, when push came to shove, and we had a huge decision involving the future of our marriage and these three children on the line, there was something very comforting about her black and white universe. Who would have thought?
Comment by Amy — August 14, 2007 @ 2:03 pm
mfranti–You mean my response “I had children because I thought I was supposed to”? Yeah, that’s why I did what I did. Y’all can take that for what it’s worth.
Comment by Lessie — August 14, 2007 @ 2:12 pm
In the movie “Raising Helen” there is a great scene where Helen figures out she misses the kids, after she has screwed up by being their friend and not their parent, and that she loves them and that she is empty without them. The older sister wisely says I hear you saying things about you, but it was never a question if you loved them it is a matter of whether you could raise them.
Can you think of two more opposite events–making a baby(self gratification) and raising one(self sacrifice)?
Comment by LAGirrrl — August 14, 2007 @ 2:40 pm
Thanks for sharing your thoughts about childbirth in this post. I personally think that there’s a big problem with the haphazard way advice about when you should have your children is handed around at BYU right now. I had my daughter in June, 2006, while both myself and my husband were going to college (I have since dropped out, for reasons I’ll explain in a moment, and he’s graduating this week). I felt like it was important to have children almost right away, but ended up waiting due to a miscarriage. The events that happened surrounding my daughter’s birth, including an emergency C-section, PPD, massive health problems and debt, and being all but ignored in our hour of need by our Wymount ward we hard.
It was our Bishop’s advice in the middle of all this that almost finished my testimony off for good, though. With one semester left until graduation, he told my husband that he should consider dropping out to “take care of his family”. Really, now. If the mode of thought at BYU is going to support students getting married and having families while still in college, then they sure as hell need to make sure that they have their Bishops backing up that choice, too!!!
Comment by Tryskel — August 14, 2007 @ 5:02 pm
Lessie,
Thanks for the great post. I’m so sorry about the pressures you were under from outside sources to have children. I’m glad that you learned that no one besides you and you husband (and God, depending on your beliefs) gets a say in the matter.
On a different note, how did you learn that your son was born blind? It sounds like it took a while for you to figure it out. How long did it take?
Amy,
You should definitely write a guest post about how _you_ became a mother. The story (and situation) sounds very interesting.
Comment by Vada — August 14, 2007 @ 8:23 pm
“he volunteered to go home and get our aprons so that we could be mothers.”
oh my goodness. that, and the police, and the naiveté, wow what a story. really, thanks for writing
i think it’s fascinating because I had some of the same views about not waiting to have kids / not planning them / trusting god to make the plan and provide the means, but my beliefs were freely adopted as a young adult hunting for my first religion.
I had 3 kids and 3 miscarriages in 4 years and I see things differently now…
Comment by cchrissyy — August 14, 2007 @ 9:32 pm
I’m joining the praise choir on this one and the subsequent comments (16, for instance). I have been wondering, since we adopted our little boy, if it’s a problem of language and the people who dole out the “there’s no fulfillment like being a mother” really mean “nothing makes you feel so needed, because you’ll never be as necessary as you are to a little defenseless baby who counts on you for everything, and you will love that kid beyond reason and your synapses will demylinate with the sheer force of your adoration and your necessity.” But that’s not the same thing as fulfillment. Fulfillment isn’t being needed, it’s finding what you need.
OK, I need to be needed. In a big way. But still–not everyone does, and it’s still only a fraction of fulfillment.
Comment by Janet — August 14, 2007 @ 9:44 pm
Oh and Lessie, your tales of BYU Idaho are horrifyng!!!!! I am so, so so sorry. Did you get my email?
Comment by Janet — August 14, 2007 @ 9:44 pm
Lessie, thank you so much for writing this post. I really needed to hear that bit about fulfilment. For the past year I’ve been thinking there’s something wrong with me that I don’t feel fulfilled by motherhood. I love my baby like nothing else in the world, I’m mad-crazy about her, and every now and then I feel these incredible moments of mommy-bliss; but I always thought motherhood was one long mommy-bliss and it’s been a bit of a let-down realising it’s also damned hard, sleep-deprived work!
Comment by Quimby — August 14, 2007 @ 9:45 pm
Lessie - Thank you for sharing your story. I am also intrigued by the exchange between you and mfranti. I hope you both will feel like elaborating soon.
Amy - I agree with Vada that your story sounds interesting. I used to listen to Dr. Laura for the same reason you did but I only listened while driving. I soon decided that driving while angry wasn’t a good idea.
Comment by berzerkcarrottop — August 14, 2007 @ 10:22 pm
re: #10, it’s funny to me (not “haha, funny,” but you know…) that you feel childbirth to be a surrender to someone else’s care and so on. i’ve always felt it so empowering and primal and “i am woman”-ish! it’s an incredibly spiritual experience for me and i am amazed at how i come away with that whole “i am woman” feeling. it’s always so interesting to hear of different viewpoints.
Comment by makakona — August 14, 2007 @ 11:41 pm
I have to say I’m very, very, very disturbed to hear about your husband’s behavior during the first birth. Was he mentally ill? Does that sort of behavior happen in the Mormon community? Did he harm you? That kind of severe jealousy (or whatever it was) sounds to me like an abusive relationship. I’m glad to hear the relationship is better, but I think this issue deserves further discussion. Who knows how many women are being denied gynocological care because of their husbands’ behavior?
Comment by z — August 15, 2007 @ 6:08 am
I have to say that I am very troubled by this story too, Z. Regardless of his religious upbringing, how could this guy have NO idea what goes on at the OB-GYN? Doesn’t he own a television set, where the awkwardness of childbirth and gynecological exams is the subject of so many jokes? Was he unaware that babies come out of vaginas? Didn’t he have any siblings or cousins born while he was growing up, and was the whole process of their birth kept a secret from him?
I would love to hear what sort of therapy you went through to help you with your relationship ( I mean this seriously, not in a snarky way) because it sounds like your husband had emotional problems way beyond the help of many therapists.
Comment by Kati — August 15, 2007 @ 7:31 am
Okay, seriously, I’m going to address everyone’s concern about my hubby first. YES I am aware that his behavior during my first pregnancy was bordering on if not outright abusive. YES I am aware that his behavior was abnormal in the extreme. NO he did not physically harm me. NO I was not denied gynecological care. And z, NO this not a normal occurrence in Mormonism. I will admit that I was severely emotionally scarred from this experience. It put a severe rift in an already shaky relationship. Something I learned, though, about people who are secretive, scared, and ashamed of their bodies is that they do not understand why anyone else would need to see your private parts. Something I also learned from this experience–in very few cases, sometimes the abuser isn’t a monster, he’s scared shit less of something he didn’t understand in the least–I cannot tell you the wholesale damage done in his family from an unwillingness to talk about such things. Unfortunately, it was something I didn’t become aware of until after we were married. Did I know I was entitled to a divorce? YES. However, I hated to give up that soon. At the time, I still believed that you should go to counseling for abuse and see if you can work through it before getting a divorce. UNDER OUR CIRCUMSTANCES this worked. My husband and I are now closer than a lot of older marriages I know and we get along rather well (although we do, of course, still have our share of arguments). We can tell each other things that we couldn’t tell anyone else. We are number one in each other’s books. My second pregnancy was fabulous as far as pregnancies go. My husband was supportive of my medical care, he was there with me through the entire delivery and was helpful to my midwife and the attendant nurses.
However, it is interesting that you ask about whether other women have gone through this. Since I myself have gone through it, I have heard of a few other women who have also had such an experience (one was my sister-in-law at the hands of hubby’s brother and the other one was the woman whose ranch I had worked on in high school). So while it is by no means normal, I think it is important that I share my story so that other women who have gone through the same or similar situations can cope and decide what to do. I realize that our solution may not be the same as other’s solutions. For example, my friend from back home did divorce this man and was happily remarried when I knew her.
Comment by Lessie — August 15, 2007 @ 7:49 am
Does that sort of behavior happen in the Mormon community?
Ummm-No! not normally.
Comment by mami — August 15, 2007 @ 7:53 am
Now that we’ve got that taken care of (not that you can’t still ask me questions), I’ll answer some of the other posters.
Tryskel and cchrissy–it’s amazing what experience can do to change one’s look at family planning. And yes, Tryskel, your bishop has issues. Good grief, do we really support education or not? cchrissy, I’m so sorry about your miscarriages. One nearly devastated me, I can’t imagine having to go through more. You must be an incredible woman.
LAGirrrl–yes, the difference between how we make babies and then how we’re supposed to raise them, the circumstances involved, are incredibly ironic (at least in my opinion).
Vada–I was actually aware that there was a problem from about a month and a half. However, getting the doctors to pay attention was somewhat difficult. At six months, our pediatrician noticed the problem as well (I had brought it up again) and referred us to a pediatric ophthalmologist to get him diagnosed. He wasn’t tracking things, wasn’t looking around (he looked down all the time), and didn’t focus very well. Plus, he would still go cross eyed a lot.
I also agree that Amy’s story would make a fantastic post.
Janet–I agree that the issue might be in the way we perceive the message sometimes. I agree that I do feel very needed by my children and that that is a good feeling. However, I definitely need more to fulfill my own needs.
Also, so that no one thinks BYU-I is completely lost, I had several professors there (including one lone religion professor) who were incredibly positive influences on my intellectual and spiritual life. I still communicate with these teachers and consider some of them to be good friends. Overall, even though I don’t agree with the direction the school is going, and I don’t believe everything I used to, BYU-I is still my alma mater and I love the school. They gave me a good education and they instilled a love of learning that I will be forever grateful for. I just won’t be sending my kids there.
Quimby–I’m glad I was able to help you. I was confused about that for the longest time as well. I don’t know when I finally stumbled on that little piece of truth, but I’m glad I did. I just wish people had told me about it sooner.
makakona–I’m glad child birth is empowering for you. Thank you for respecting my views. That means a lot to me.
Kati–we went through a therapy method called Emotionally Focused Therapy. It assumes that anger is a secondary emotion used to cover fear, pain, embarrassment, etc. You learn how to recognize the emotions that led to the anger and express those instead. This helps you and your partner to see the love beneath the anger. It was what helped me understand my hubby’s behavior and helped him understand how severely he had hurt me. It was also what helped us heal since we were able to see that it wasn’t selfishness driving our responses after all. It was also the relationship that developed out of this therapy that made me question the church’s ideas about presiding/equality. But that’s another story.
Comment by Lessie — August 15, 2007 @ 8:10 am
That bit about your husband scared me a bit because there have been women who weren’t allowed to go to the gynecologist because their husbands were extremely jealous. I’m glad you managed to work things out, and I hope your husband is more comfortable with you getting regular gynecological exams and prenatal care when necessary.
Getting adequate prenatal care has been shown to reduce the risk of a baby dying of SIDS, as in many cases, the mother got little or no care during the pregnancy. However, the main reason that happened was that the woman couldn’t afford to pay the bills, not because her jealous husband wouldn’t let her go.
Comment by Adrienne — August 15, 2007 @ 10:51 am
My Mom was a jockey. That is, until she had me, her fourth kid, and didn’t lose the pregnancy weight.
My husband isn’t one that tolerates childbirth well at all. I did not mind that he stepped out of the room while I gave birth. You would not believe how much flak both he and I have been given about that. You would also not believe how many expecting fathers have taken my husband aside to ask how they too would get their wives to give them an out.
Motherhood is something that came upon me quite young and quite accidentally. It was never something I expected to find fulfillment in, much less be the whole of my identity.
Comment by Becky..Absent Minded Housewife — August 15, 2007 @ 11:48 am
Regarding vulnerability during childbirth…
We were so prepared for the birth of my first that we were shocked by the lack of care I received at the hospital. All my wishes were disregarded and my husband actually stood behind the doctor to make sure he didn’t do the episiotomy he had promised he wouldn’t but was prepping when my husband stepped in. I asked for my epidural when we arrived but ended up waiting without any care at all until it was too late. Yea, it was a lousy experience and without my husband the hospital staff would have definitely taken advantage of my vulnerability. That’s why the next 2 were delivered at home with the best midwife ever. Both my husband and I completely trusted her because she took the time to actually talk to us and ask relevant questions. I did not feel at all vulnerable with her. She made us feel like it was our show. Both of those births were very spiritual for both my husband and I. In fact, just talking about the births makes me tear up just because they were so awesome. I admit I am very fortunate to have found such a great husband who is a questioner like me and neither of us were completely sheltered before marriage. Of course neither of us attended the requisite church universities…oh the evils of the U of U.
Comment by ex-cop mom — August 15, 2007 @ 2:18 pm
Becky-
Thanks for the small slice about your husband stepping out. If we ever have kids via traditional means, my DH is probably not going to want to be in the delivery room, (it would be unheard of in his culture). I know I’ll be fine as long as my mom or sister are there. But even though this it’s purely hypothetical, at this point, the raised eye-brows and assumptions that will likely be made about DH and our relationship are already unbearable. I’m not saying cultures can’t change, but if I don’t care, why should anyone else? I guess the real question is why should I care if people do judge?
Comment by Amy — August 15, 2007 @ 11:52 pm
I guess the real question is why should I care if people do judge?
I don’t know, but I do as well. I think that whether the hubby is in the delivery room or not is totally up to the couple. But do have your mom and sister in there and take them with you to your childbirth education classes so that they can learn best how to support you. Having one person there that was totally my advocate made things a lot easier. Just out of curiosity, what culture is your DH from?
Comment by Lessie — August 16, 2007 @ 8:02 am
Amy,
Many times I was told to make my husband suck it up, “it’s just a little blood”. He’s not blood phobic, he’s birth phobic, and he’d be absolutely no help in the delivery room. He panicked and fainted, taking a few desks down with him, at a showing of “The Miracle of Birth” in high school. He picked up dead Iraqi soldiers during Desert Storm because he pulled that duty. That didn’t bother him but birth does.
I got the, “He can be by your head!” as if being three feet away from birthing, with the noises and the smells still present, would help in the least.
I’m told, “You have to be there, so does he.” You know what? If I had the ability to step out, I probably wouldn’t be there either, lol. Because a person is giving birth doesn’t mean they can handle the birth process.
I got asked, “But how will he bond?” Amazingly, he’s managed. He took over the caretaking of all our infants in the hospital while I slept. Except for nursing, I didn’t change a diaper or give a single bath until we got home. Presence during the birth isn’t a guarantee that he’s going to be a good Dad, and he did not let me down as a husband in any way.
I was open to the idea of giving birth in front of whoever wanted to watch in my family as long as they were polite and stayed out of the way. My Mom, Dad and two sisters were my help during the first, I gave birth alone with my second (emergency situation, just me and an ER doc), and my Mom, Dad and a sister were there for the third. I invited my MIL but she declined. She thought it was yucky too.
Comment by Becky..Absent Minded Housewife — August 16, 2007 @ 11:42 pm
Because our culture affects all of us. People feel cultural pressure based on the actions and expectations of others. Haven’t we just been talking about cultural pressure to bear children, for example? I think it’s sad when cultural pressure forces men to miss out on important and meaningful parenthood experiences like childbirth. And if the reason for missing it is that the female body is in some sense pathological or contaminating to males, that’s a cultural belief we should reject. Those are just examples, I don’t know why his culture doesn’t think men should be present. But I think it’s at least worth encouraging him to consider the basis of that belief and whether it’s founded on an idea he can support.
Comment by z — August 19, 2007 @ 7:19 pm
Comment by z — August 19, 2007 @ 7:19 pm
z-
Thanks for all the insights and for sharing your experiences. Lots of things to think about and talk to DH about. In his Sudanese culture childbirth falls in the “sphere” of women–there’s not a belief that it’s pathological, just that it’s something women help one another through. Maybe he’ll decide we wants to be there, though. He’s learned to enjoy the kitchen, afterall.
Another Sudanese friend of ours was shepherded into the delivery room while his wife was undergoing an emergency c-section. He had no idea what the heck was going on and told us later, “I was sure that was the end of Grace (his wife).”
Communication being key, in all these situations, I suppose.
Comment by Amy — August 19, 2007 @ 8:27 pm
[…] comings and angered by his. After the birth of our first son, the details of which can be found here, our marriage began a slide into pain, anger, disillusionment, and apathy. We decided to go ahead […]
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