Recently, my partner, Tom, returned home from work with an exciting update about a case he’s working on. The court granted his client’s petition for a rehearing, which means he will be heading to San Francisco to present before eleven judges. It’s thrilling news. When he inquired about my day, I responded, “Oh, it was quite productive. I managed three loads of laundry, took our son to speech therapy, baked some cookies, and gave the baby a bath…”
Yet, as of late, I find myself increasingly disheartened by the routine nature of my days—the very triviality and monotony of them. I realize I’m not supposed to voice these thoughts. As a stay-at-home mom, the expectation is to extol the virtues of this lifestyle, singing praises about the enchantment of domestic life. As a so-called “mommy blogger”—though I’m unsure if that label fits—I ought to be perfecting my photography to showcase just how magical life can be.
The truth is, I’ve been feeling more like a servant lately. It seems everyone in this household has constant demands, and I often receive complaints rather than gratitude. My role has become one of servitude, where I am expected to provide and listen, but rarely to be heard.
Do I come across as bitter? Perhaps I am.
On one hand, I feel incredibly lucky to be at home with my children. I understand that many cannot afford this choice, and there was a time when I couldn’t, either. But I’ve started to question the decisions I’ve made. I recently read a book titled Why Have Kids by Jessica Valenti, which I found hard to put down. The message resonated with me, leaving me both frustrated and contemplative. Valenti argues that motherhood is not the exalted role society portrays it to be. Can I get a Hallelujah? It’s not all sunshine and rainbows.
Yes, there are fleeting moments of joy—those blissful instances that remind us why we chose this path—but they are infrequent enough that they stand out. Most of the time, being a mother feels like a thankless job. The real rewards often come later when children grow into responsible adults, but ultimately, much of their development is beyond our control. If they become difficult individuals, will we shoulder the blame for their shortcomings?
Valenti suggests that society has conditioned mothers into believing that their role is the most significant job. It’s reminiscent of saying, “Maintaining this house I built—without anyone asking me to—is the most critical job.” I’m raising the children I chose to have; I’m not doing society any favors. It’s likely that the majority of our children will lead ordinary lives and not leave a lasting impact on the world.
And honestly, is laundry really the best I can offer? Am I impressing anyone with my skills in baby bathing? Motherhood doesn’t showcase my strengths; instead, it highlights my inadequacies.
These thoughts have been swirling in my mind for some time. It’s challenging to express them without sounding ungrateful or unloving. I adore my children; they are my universe. Yet, therein lies the conundrum. What happened to my identity? Who am I beyond being a mother? I never anticipated that my entire identity would be engulfed by my children.
In retrospect, I sometimes think I should’ve had fewer kids or maintained my career—even part-time. I’ve made myself financially dependent on my partner, which I vowed I would never do after my first husband passed away. I sacrificed my earning potential and have been out of the workforce for a decade. With my youngest starting school in several years, I’ll be in my 50s and unqualified for positions that match my previous income level. It’s daunting to ponder the possibilities.
It isn’t solely about financial matters; what message am I sending to my daughters regarding independence? I worry that I am not setting the best example. Perhaps if I weren’t available at everyone’s beck and call, I’d be appreciated more.
The reality is, the notion that women can have it all is a myth. If you choose to stay home to raise children, you often sacrifice independence, financial security, and sometimes your sense of self. Conversely, if you work outside the home, you’re likely engaged in a tiring balancing act without the necessary support in both realms to give your best self.
I find myself feeling trapped—stuck in this cycle. Surely I can’t be alone in this sentiment.
For those navigating similar paths, resources like Make a Mom’s guide to couples fertility journeys and IVF services from Johns Hopkins provide valuable information on the journey of parenthood. Moreover, for practical options, Impregnator’s at-home insemination kit is an authority you can turn to.
In conclusion, the pursuit of the ideal balance in motherhood often reveals the difficult choices we make along the way.
Keyphrase: The Myth of Having It All
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