The Buck Stops Here

Motherhood is like an ill-fitting suit that I am having to get used to. It's a daily adjustment. Just when I get one part of fitting like a glove, another part rips a seam or loses a button. I was not one of those women who always wanted children. I just sort assumed that some day I would have them. I would get pangs from time to time, but overall I just viewed parenthood as an adventure that I did not want to miss out on in life. And so I got pregnant.My first pregnancy was hellish with 4 months of constant nausea and six months of an itchy, all-over body rash. I was depressed and desperate for some physical relief from my symptoms. I went to see a homeopath in Berkeley. To be honest I still do not know exactly what a homeopath does, but I was ready to try anything short of morphine. After a lengthy intake which felt more like therapy than a doctor's appointment, she prescribed herbs. When those did not help, we tried more and then more. Still no success. When she had asked me about how I felt about having a child in our initial session I was honest. I said that I was ambivalent. That I knew I would have to give up a good deal of my freedom and independence. And I knew that I was not good with 'needy' and a baby is nothing but NEEDY. When nothing seemed to be working she informed me that she thought my nausea was due to my ambivalence about having a child. I almost fainted. I felt like I was talking to some old, male doctor, rather than a young, female, hippie Berkeley homeopath. Once again, it was blame the mother. It was MY fault that I was sick. I of course let her know that her services would no longer be needed (okay, I really did my passive-aggressive usual and just never called her back). I did, however want to call her back when overnight the nausea stopped at week 16 (a common time for first trimester woes to end) and ask her why I still felt ambivalent, but no longer nauseous. Wonder what she would have said about the rash? She probably would have told me that I am the devil's spawn. The culture of blame and guilt among women and moms is unbelievable.I was photographing a wedding a few weeks ago and this little girl was wandering in the women's room and I overheard some women say "Where is her mom?" Not PARENTS or FATHER but MOM. Because of course the mom is responsible for this child every waking moment. When Ben was just 6 months old we went to Maine to stay with Josh's mom. One day we were all dividing up among two cars and I opted to go in the convertible which was the car that did not contain a carseat. My mother-in-law asked me "What about Ben?" I then informed her that he did have a father who would be driving the other car and that we were not planning on abandoning him to wolves. The adjustment to this new suit has been a slow process for me. I have not gone willingly into the land of June Cleaver. I often ask myself why others seem to like it so much when I find most of child rearing to be ceaselessly boring. I still do not know what the answer is to that question. But as I being to embark on the possibility of having two children, I am frightened that what little autonomy I have been able to keep will disappear completely. Childcare for two children is ridiculously high and I make ridiculously little money so I am of course a candidate to stay home with them. But what if I would go bonkers doing it? It hardly seems fair that if women want children that they must bear the brunt of the care while men are able to have their children and their careers too.