A new mom, in control

The performance of new motherhood online. This is fine. Everything's fine!

17 women, 11 miles, 4800 feet of elevation, very sore calves

Over the weekend I climbed a mountain with 16 other women to celebrate our friend’s 40th birthday. It was really hard (physically and emotionally). During the hike we talked about hard things we’ve done in our lives (especially towards the end when I was very tired, sore and kind of angry). For many of us, that included pregnancies, birth experiences, and postpartum.

My pregnancy was awful and I hated it. After barely leaving the house because I vomited all day every day I had a relatively “easy” labor and delivery. (Lol).

Two weeks later I had delayed postpartum hemorrhage. I bled out in my house for hours. I had no idea what was happening. I had an emergency D&C and three blood transfusions. My nurse sent in a social worker to speak to me about the traumatic experience. I cracked jokes and kept it casual. My inner monologue was: do not cry. I did everything in my power to convince her I was fine. Everything’s fine!

Last week I read Sara Peterson’s essay on her commitment to striving in pregnancy and new motherhood. I thought about my own journey into the realm of seeking greatness as a new mother. As a stereotypical eldest daughter, I was determined to perfect new motherhood. Pregnancy may have been a nightmare but if I follow the formula, do all the things, hold it together, everything will be fine. I will be in control.

In her essay “If ‘intentional mediocrity’ is a sin…” Sara Peterson writes:

Largely because mothers have been disenfranchised in the U.S. and deprived of meaningful systemic support, it makes sense that many of us long for a sense of control. We can’t individually control the burning of our planet, the safety of our schools, the prohibitive cost of childcare, our incomprehensive maternal healthcare, or inequity in the workplace. But we can trick ourselves into feeling more in control if we don’t stand still for long enough to think too deeply about the everyday horrors of mothering in America. And shame! Oh the SHAME that is both heaped upon mothers from external sources and the shame which most of us are trained to heap upon ourselves!

As a new mom, I was not fine, but as a fairly public person, there was one thing I could control: the performance of my new motherhood online. While I was anything but ok, I found ways to trick myself into feeling more in control, mostly by performing “good mother.” I can assure you, a good mother it did not make (more on that later), but in the interest of transparency, here’s an incomplete list.

Performative motherhood, a confessional:

1. After watching a documentary, I decided to go vegan (and forced my partner to do the same) then share a comprehensive blog post about how and why, several weeks before I gave birth. Don’t even get me started.

2. Pumped exclusively for 6 months, despite the crippling full body anxiety, sadness, and dread I felt every time my milk let down while pumping. (Read: Everybody Calm Down About Breastfeeding).

   1. Followed it up with a blog post about exclusively pumping. Don’t go looking, it’s been deleted.

3. Shared my passion for tracking everything. Down to the minute. Every nap, feed, diaper, sleep, tummy time. Tracking was my religion and I was headed straight for depths of hell if we got off schedule. 🔥

4. Dressed my child in strictly neutrals because, aesthetics. Her insistence now on only wearing pink, purple, sparkles or rainbow is likely revenge for the time I spent trying to make her a sad beige baby.

5. Talked about co-sleeping on social media. My DMs were ablaze. Keep it to your friend group. Put nothing in writing. (Don’t read the comments on this post).

6. Wrote a blog post about sleep training. 🙄 Don’t go looking for it. I deleted it.

7. Wore my “workaholic” badge with a sense of pride. Cut to me responding to work emails in the intensive care unit while recovering from postpartum hemorrhage and simultaneously pumping for hours on end. We can have it all! 🫠

8. Shared a post about my “non-toxic” baby registry. 🤦‍♀️

These things gave me the illusion of control. They didn’t make me a good (or bad) mom, but they made me an absolutely miserable human being. It took me a while to recognize that being extremely online was the fuel feeding my performative motherhood fire. As I spent less time on social media I realized that a) I was good at being a mom and b) I didn’t need to prove that to anyone.

I still feel like a new mom some days and my toddler is almost four. Peeling myself away from performing (and consuming) motherhood online gave me freedom. Time and experience gave me perspective. I don’t have most things figured out, but I feel incredibly at ease about that. I also give considerably less fucks. Salt and vinegar chips for breakfast? Sure!