Letters to the Editor
-
Thank you!
Thanks, Heather!!! Seriously! What a freaking breath of fresh air.
The pieces on mothering in salon being what they usually are, I was terrified to read yours. I love your reviews, I love your blog, but I have seen plenty of smart, scrappy, funny, kick-ass women become blithering idiots under the malign influence of Motherhood, so I was scared. I just KNEW your piece was also going to be a solipsistic bit of tendentious puffery about how difficult and sacred motherhood is, and full of vomitously self-absorbed sentiments, and super-saturated with undertones of "I am giving birth to the first baby ever born in the Universe and the Glory and the Magic of my spawn must be apparent to you all!!"
And it wasn't! I loved it. Fierce, dude. And funny! And sarcastic. And, to all those readers who DIDN'T SEEM TO GET IT, this was satire. Right, Heather? Gawd I hope so.
-
Yes It's True! It's All True!
And Still...it's the most fun and most fantastic and most rewarding way to spend your time. That you already know all of those things will happen automatically puts you ahead of most new mothers. Best of luck with everything Heather, and maybe i'll see you at the playground in a couple of years and we can share a secret cigarette and bitch about that mother who always brings the diaperbag full of really good snacks that our kids covet and we always seem to forget.
-
Only the inexperienced...
Only a mother-to-be could write this... I would be very interested to see a follow-up story, two years hence. That's the magic of experience, it makes the inexplicable make sense.
-
pewella
Just writing to say that I need to be friends with pewella and Heather you need some friends like her as well. My whole problem with motherhood is only this: lack of fun, edgy (and don't confuse mean and bitchy with edgy)spirited women who don't want to spend an hour discussing the ins and outs of her child's eating, pooping, sleeping habits. I relate completely with wanting to read the word fuck as often as possible. Yes, I'm a mom and I still swear (oh GOD did she just say that?)and sometimes, accidentally around other people's kids (NO!). So, stay away from any groups with the words "mommy and me" in the title and make sure to have a few cocktails (you won't be pregnant anymore). And pewella, email me at Squirrmels@aol.com if you want to talk to a kindred spirit who's not in the Cult of Mommy.
-
Goldfish
A friend of mine, who has two sons now in their early 20s, swears she "shudda stuck with goldfish". Mostly half-kiddingly. Then, when she describes how the younger son has found a career at which he's excelling and how well he's doing (after some rough times), it's wonderful to see her pride and love.
Me, I'm someone who knew from the first week of kindergarten that I didn't want kids, just animal friends. I don't regret it. I'm a great animal "mom", and my furry kids have taught me so much about life, living and loving.
Heather: anyone who's as anxious as you about doing the right thing for your "lamprey" is very likely to be a good parent. So enjoy all you can (and I'll bet there's a LOT!) of your baby and helping it grow into the most wonderful person you can imagine.
-
Advice from a lamprey-free onlooker
I myself am lamprey-free for now (as you know, lesbians don't become fertile until they're 40 and married to the woman of their dreams, living in a very hip yet still lamprey-friendly neighborhood in Palo Alto with all their student loans paid off, a successful private practice and a chocolate lab to come home to in the evenings... right?). But I'm at that mid-to-late 20's stage where all my uber-individualist college friends are suddenly "we" instead of "I," and most have produced at least one lamprey, with some working on their second. And, yeah, your friends have pretty accurately described what my friends went through during those first few months -- with the exception of one friend, who did something everyone else thought to be very bizarre and selfish and possibly indicative of mental illness, and is now, 8 months later, the only one who, by just being around her and her mini, makes me seriously consider liking the penis just long enough to have a mini of my own. She is so refreshingly healthy and absolutely in love with her lamprey, despite weekly mastitis, a disturbingly sleep-free sleep cycle, and the laprey's recent innovation of teeth, I have to share with you what she did, and suggest that you consider her methodology.
In the weeks before the birth, my friend read a lot, not just about what was happening to her body then or what would happen during labor, but what physiological changes her body would undergo in the minutes, hours, and days after delivery. She discussed all of this with her partner, and she then publicly announced that she was giving herself permission to do nothing but take care of herself immediately following the birth. She enlisted the help of her sister and her partner's mother to stay at the house and help the bumbling father until she herself was ready to take over, however long that might be. She created a sanctuary for herself in the guest room, filling it with all of the things that had helped her heal from back surgery a few years back. And when the baby came, she stuck to her plan. She retreated into her healing room, where she slept, meditated, received massages and chiropractic and acupuncture treatments, tended to her physical needs, and yes, pumped milk. And halfway through the fourth day, she says she literally felt something shift inside of her; the fog she'd been in since the birth suddenly lifted, and she said she suddenly felt an overwhelming need to see and hold and be with her lamprey, even though she'd felt no maternal urges up to that point.
Her message, repeated here, is that labor and delivery is a trauma to the mother's body and psyche. My friend's theory is that most women feel pressured to bond immediately with their little alien and in trying to do so, never have the chance to begin to heal the traumas incurred, thereby starting the entire enterprise in a weakened state. By giving herself permission to tend to her own healing (which really isn't all that radical -- before HMO's new mothers were given plenty of time to recoup before being booted out of the hospital), my friend was able to begin her relationship with her daughter from a place of health; she was physically and emotionally ready to put her needs second, because she'd put them first when she most needed to. Plus, those three and a half days gave the little one and her dad the opportunity to create a relationship that I don't see mirrored in any of my other friends' families.
You needn't be as drastic about it as my friend, but I do urge you to consciously allow yourself a period of healing between delivering your lamprey and changing its diapers. You owe it to yourself, your family, and most importantly, us!, to give yourself the best start possible so that all of those fears won't be realized.
Good luck, and good health! You and your cutlet will be in our thoughts.