Alone in the village
NS March 26th, 2008
It’s become a cliche saying but I’ve been drawn closer and closer lately to the phrase “It takes a village to raise a child.” Maybe it’s my inner hippy communing with me, interfering with my thoughts, but I find myself yearning more and more often for a different way of life, one that doesn’t leave me feeling like a desert island, full of beauty, life and potential, but in reality isolated, silent and achingly empty.
In generations and centuries past, children were not raised solely by their parents but by an extended circle of family, friends and community members. Families relied on each other for shared childcare, labour and domestic duties to survive. If one family was down on their luck, another would pick up the slack until things were right again. They did this not out of some pure and selfless motivation but because they knew that if down the road they needed help too, the favour would be returned with no questions asked and no debts incurred. The work involved in running a home, raising children and making ends meet was more physically demanding, less convenient and more downright brutal than it is today, but by coming together to share these tasks, communities thrived and its individual members were often happy and fulfilled. So why is it that today, with all of our technology, modern amenities and vast array of choice, so many of us (particularly mothers) are struggling to keep it all together?
I sometimes wake up (to the sound of the cat yowling to be let out of her room and TNC shouting to be released from hers), often before the sun has risen, and squeeze my eyes shut again as I try desperately to stay in the warmth of my dreams. Dreams where I go places, do things and meet people that I never go, do or encounter in my daily routine. I try to pretend that I am another person, not a stay-at-home mother, a struggling writer and a woman living pay cheque to husband’s pay cheque. In my dreams, the world is my oyster and I am the pearl, perched in the midst of it all and emanating light. I never get angry and shout at my child, my house is always clean and tidy and I don’t spend some days crying on the sofa in despair at the endless nothingness stretched out before me. In these dreams, I can pretend that I don’t sometimes scream into a pillow after I’ve mopped up the fifth spill of the day, or changed another nappy, or said the same words over and over and over again. Once the moment has passed, I tell myself to pull it together, that women have been doing this for eons and I have no right to complain. I feel like a failure.
But then I remember that women in the past did what I’m doing but they didn’t do it alone. Washing the dishes or hanging up laundry doesn’t seem half as bad and monotonous when you’ve got Grandma downstairs entertaining the children or your next door neighbour over for a daily cup of tea and a chat. Sharing laughter, stories, advice, sympathies, glances, touches, experiences and kindnesses…these are all human needs, ones that make the work we do bearable. I can remember having chronically boring office jobs throughout my life that you couldn’t have paid me to do if it hadn’t been for the atmosphere and the people. Though the pay, the prestige and the challenges of our work are important, most employees will tell you that it’s the people who matter most. A lucrative salary and a beautiful office doesn’t mean much if you hate your boss and your colleagues or have to work alone in the basement, not even allowed to socialise during your coffee and lunch breaks. We are inherently social creatures and flock towards one another naturally. This is why you see vehicles bunched together in one corner of a massive car park instead of utilising the whole lot, or one side of a restaurant full while the other remains empty. As much as we don’t like to admit it these days, we need to be around each other, to know that there are others out there just like us. We can cocoon ourselves up in massive houses and order everything online and sit at a reasonable distance from one another in public but that primordial urge to come together, particularly in times of trouble or sorrow, is strong and deep.
So strong and deep, in fact, I would daresay that withdrawal from it can cause a sort of mental and emotional stunt in growth. Much like the studies that have been done about babies dying as a result of never being held or talked to — even when they are fed, warm and safe — people in isolation who feel they are alone in their work and cut off from civilisation can begin to feel unloved, abandoned and useless. The thought of trying to do it all becomes so overwhelming that some stop trying at all. And the more overwhelmed they feel, the more depressed they get and the less energy they have to make things right or snap themselves out of their funk. I know this is true for me at least. Sometimes I wonder if I’m clinically depressed or just depressed at leading a sometimes clinical life.
I’ve come to the conclusion that my current state, that of the SAHM, is not natural for me, no matter how many say that mothering at home is the most natural thing in the world. The mothering part I love, you see. It is the ‘at home’ bit that gets to me. Home alone. Except this ain’t a Macaulay Culkin movie and my entire family doesn’t come rushing in at the end of the day and save me from the loneliness of confinement. As it is, I move through the dark on my own, my hands feeling their way along the walls as I shuffle and trip and fumble for a light switch. I fall down occasionally and get a bit dirty but I get back up and keep going because there is a small person behind me, the child I love and protect, patiently waiting for me to find my way. Even when I am terrified that I’ll never figure it out, her unwavering faith in me keeps me going and searching for support in whatever ways I can get it. Until then, I just have to make do with what I’ve got (which is undoubtedly more than many others) and keep reaching out. Maybe one day we will reach this mythical village and I won’t feel so all alone, or find my need for it diminishes altogether. For her sake, I hope.
- Home and Hearth , Parenting 101 , Squish Squish
- Comments(14)
aw, babe.
it’s not good to feel this way.
if there’s anything i can do, you know where i am.
You’re not a failure but I know how and why you feel that way. I think, and I’m risking castigation here, that staying at home alone in what is clearly not a village (and what is not even your home country) to raise your child, for whatever reason – financial, political, emotional, is infinitely harder than giving that child to someone else to care for 12 hours a day and going to work to have a career or a job. It is the hardest lesson of emotional self-reliance and growth that one can learn, and many deflect their feelings of loneliness, anxiety or failure into shopping, extreme parenting, becoming Yummy Mummies or scary 50s style housewives with perfect homes.
The only way I survived was by carving out small pockets of time for myself: hiring a babysitter for two hours twice a month so I could go to a writing class, putting on the blasted TV so I could read a book, having ridiculously long baths while my kids caused mayhem in their room. And then trying to do all the above with no guilt whatsoever, so learning that I deserved those small oases.
You have a dream; cling to it. It’s important to you, your child and your partner that you have something that is yours and yours only. Keep writing, because you write so beautifully and expressively about how you feel and where you are.
Being a SAHM can be one of the most isolating jobs there is. I well remember that feeling. When my kids were little, I joined a “mom’s group” even though I’m not much of a club-joining person, and I believe it saved my sanity in those early years.
It does get better over time. Hang in there!
Motherhood is not easy whether you work or stay home but it can get lonely to be the only adult in the house for hours every day. Family is on the way soon though. We can’t wait to see you. Hang in there!
I have absolutely no idea how parents manage to stay at home to look after children. From the outside looking in, it seems to be about the hardest job there is because you have to give so much of yourself and it never stops. My brother-in-law, who is the SAHF says it’s like being a rock in the ocean: the waves just keep coming, wearing you down little by little.
You’re not a failure for feeling worn. You need some nurturing too.
I feel for you. I went right back to work after 3 months maternity leave and even though that brought its own challenges, I never regretted it for the same reasons you’ve expressed. I think I would have crumbled from the loneliness and relentlessness of staying home. There are so many paradoxical feelings when you are a parent and there is no relief from it, no resolution or moment where it all works out. It does get easier as they get older, but I know that the days you are living through now feel like they each last forever.
As others have suggested, I hope you can find a way to get some time for yourself to be spent taking care of yourself in whatever way you need that to be — writing, socializing, sleeping, etc. I know it is not always easy to find that time, but it will be so worth it to you and your child.
It is lonely, and hard, and it can strip you of any feelings of individuality as you are more and more absorbed by that other little life who depends on you for everything, but hang on. Things will change as time passes and you will find a friend in your child(sometimes) and you will meet other women in a similar place and you will share this incredibly heavy and amazingly wonderful burden and when the babies are big and they need a little less of you, you can begin to build the new life with the new person you will be (and the new person they will be). I never cried as much as I did when my children were small, except maybe when they left to move to college. It will change, and get better, and then worse, and then better again and …..
You are SO not alone. I also did not have family anywhere nearby and felt very isolated. Once school age arrived we began to meet more people in the same situation, and it helped. It really did. Also, some of the people I knew with family nearby spent many an hour wishing them far away.
I feel for you. I really do, being in a somewhat similar situation as you (can’t afford to work). I’m a certified doula but I don’t currently work, partly because what I’d be making on the job is less than the costs of childcare and everything else involved added up. I really enjoy it, and at times when I was doing it I felt it really helped save my sanity and made me a better parent for it. But, it wasn’t without problems either… Maaike clearly wasn’t ready to have me gone for such long and unpredictable periods.
What has really helped me is to find ways to explore my other interests and aspects of myself with Maaike involved. Reading lots of books while she plays or sleeps, knitting, getting involved in activist activities that I can bring her to, taking time for myself to write. And of course, the AP playgroup that I started helps! As for the doula aspect of myself… I still do lots to expand my knowledge in regards to that, for the future when I will do it. For example, reading books on it, participating in forums for doulas, and in April I will be starting to volunteer at a teen crisis pregnancy center on Saturdays while Erik is at home with Maaike.
For what it’s worth, I believe that it’s just as easy for some people to “lose themselves” in their career. You are more than just a mother, and more than just a career woman. I have to remind myself of that often.
I hope you find peace and some support in your struggle. I’m still working on it as well.
Hi – I’ve been reading your blog for a while and this post made me want to “de-lurk” because you have summed up very accurately how I felt when I first moved to London with a 10 month old. Being a SAHM can be extremely isolating, especially if you are in a new environment, without family nearby. I remember my mom telling me of the days when she was growing up with all of her extended family living nearby — there was always someone dropping by for a cup of coffee and a chat and there was always someone around to help out with the kids. I’d echo what Yogamum said – joining a playgroup to meet other moms was my saving grace. Also, once my daughter started nursery school, I met a lot of new moms and I know that I’ll at least get some adult interaction (even if for just a few minutes) when I do the school run.
To tell you the truth, I think it’s MUCH harder in this day and age, not only because women are expected to do it all alone (just think. Even as recently as the 1950s, middle class women were surrounded by other mothers/homemakers with whom they could get together and talk. Now, so many mothers are surrounded by empty-by-day homes in their neighborhoods). In this day and age, not only are stay-at-home moms all alone, but they face these extreme models of cleanliness and “perfect homes” to which everyone is expected to aspire (my mother firmly believes people weren’t half as picky about how their homes should look when she was a young mother). And nobody ever thinks about mothers needing vacations. I’d fly over there in a heartbeat and give you at least a long weekend to pamper yourself, if I could. ALL mothers need that, probably even more than those of us working outside the home.
Jen — thanks babe.
Charlotte — your kind words move me, yet again. thank you too.
Yogamum — it BETTER get better, that’s all I’m sayin’
Lyn — you can’t get here soon enough! looking forward to seeing you so much.
Becky — I like your brother’s saying, I’m going to remember that. maybe after so long the waves make the rocks smooth though? one can only hope!
drawer queen — it’s good to know that i’m not the only one that cries on a regular basis as a result of mothering small children. it’s so hard!
Chloe — i think you hit the nail on the head, i need more hobbies. i need to get my guitar tuned and sign up for that knitting class i’ve been meaning to take. thanks for the reminder that it’s ok to do things just for me
Sif — hi! thanks for de-lurking. i can imagine that moving to a different city with a baby is even harder than having lived there for a few years before having one. i’m glad you found a play group to go to. i’m hoping that we’ll find one soon.
Emily — the pressure to keep a perfect home hasn’t bothered me too much because i just know that for me it’s completely unrealistic. i do, however, go nuts if my house goes too long without a good scrub. it seems sort of sad but my mood is infinitely better when my house is relatively clean and tidy. i think many people feel the same way though. heck, today i spent about four hours cleaning and singing along to the radio and felt great at the end of it but that’s because my friend had TNC and i could work unhindered. that’s the key. trying to mop a floor with a two-year-old around is utterly pointless.
Yes, you’ve hit the nail on the head. I think being a stay-at-home mom in this day and age is very unnatural. I think we’ve gained so much, but lost so much.
NS, you are so right. It is so hard being at home and the more you are at home, the smaller your world becomes and the more frightening it becomes to venture outside the familiar.
I have socialised with nearly *no one* besides my children, husband, and mother for the last 12 weeks. I am desperate for the company of my peers and yet, as this goes on and on, I become more paralysed and unable to take make the first move.
Time for you and me to find our villages!
Bang on. I’m standing on the brink, so I’ve been thinking about this… a lot. I will be a stay at home mum, whether I like it or not because I’m self employed. I too, have my folks a long way away and very few local friends (I used to work in a town 100 miles away and all my ex colleagues are blokes, anyway).
I’ve joined the NCT and signed up for their and the NHS anti-natal classes, not because I think all this anti-natal information will help much but because I fear the isolation and want to try and get some contacts going among local mums. We are staying in our house, with two bedrooms despite the problems that will bring with putting 70 year olds on a futon or in a B&B precisely because we both fear the cabin craziness moving out of town to somewhere a car ride from everything might bring.
The way you feel is natural and I hope you work it out… if it’s any consolation what Cloe says makes a lot of sense to me, a friend of mine said that the hardest but most valuable thing she did was teach her child to play. It took a long time, she said but was worth it when she reached the age of about 3 and was able to amuse herself for a while…
If you can find one, join a parents group or start one! Join a toddler and baby exercise class with your little un’s if there is one, or a playgroup – anything that will bring you into contact with other Mums, even if it’s only for a few minutes a day. Join the NCT and look to find a network for your new baby. Even if you’re just meeting other mum’s once a week for coffee and having a good old whinge together (or not depending how the week’s gone) it will do you good to know they are out there and that you are not alone.
Certainly, in 10 weeks or so, you won’t be!
Take care you.
Cheers
BC