Paradise lies beneath the feet of the mother, says a well-known Islamic saying. It’s a wonderful statement that addresses the undervaluing of the institution of motherhood. But the gilded pedestal upon which we mothers are placed can make living up to the expectations of being an idealised mum a heavy burden. It’s not all singing cherubs and beatific smiles being a mum. Ask any woman who’s been awake at 4am with a baby who has colic.
For centuries, to be a mother was the pinnacle of a woman’s achievements. The pedestal persists, and so it should because motherhood is hard work. But there is little compassion for those who fall from the pedestal or, worse, for those who say they would like to step down.
In the mummy blogosphere, there has been a recent trend to talk openly and bluntly about the severe regret of being a mother. These are women who say they are not depressed or suffering baby blues, but for the long duration of motherhood have simply felt nothing except negativity and resentment. Often, they never wanted children but succumbed to the pressure of a partner who did, and they believed they would feel differently once they had children, hoping the maternal instinct would kick in. But it never did, and they regret it.
It seems more and more acceptable to openly flaunt regret, even loathing for motherhood. A loss of an old life, a distaste for the tribulations of motherhood, particularly in the early years, a longing for self that has been lost. And what is noteworthy is that there is praise, solidarity and a sigh of relief by many mothers who they are now able to express how they don’t like being a mother.
Jezebel, one of the leading women’s websites, announced last week: “Let’s talk about women who regret motherhood.” I’m all for women expressing their feelings. I believe it’s OK to talk about the difficulties, the unhappiness or even the regret of motherhood.
The discourse of regret was best summed up by one blogger who declared: “I loved our baby more than I ever could have predicted. As time went on, though, I found that I did not like being a mother.”
Today, the ability to accept two such strong yet seemingly conflicting emotions, or that some emotions may simply feel tepid, has been lost. Instead we must love everything to the max. If we don’t, then we should move on.
But difficulty is par for the course and difficulty doesn’t preclude – in fact, sometimes it opens the way for – the emotions of joy, love and fulfilment.
Today, when we are looking for a spouse, we must fall madly in love. He or she has to be “the one”. I am Exhibit A: I wrote a book about the subject. If we are no longer madly in love, then we move on. We must love our jobs to the max. Our lives have become a parody of The X-factor: it is all or nothing.
This max-or-move-on attitude has infected everything, including what we believe must be the experience of motherhood. But that’s not what life, or motherhood, is like. Instead, what we can all agree on is that sometimes, it sucks, and that’s OK, and you just stick with it, and no there isn’t a soft focus glow on your day-to-day activities. Sometimes it’s a baby’s smelly nappies, or a teenager’s hissy fit. And, sometimes, you’ll forget your clothes are covered in vomit, because that day your child for the first time said: “I love you, Mummy.”
Shelina Zahra Janmohamed is the author of Love in a Headscarf and blogs at www.spirit21.co.uk