“Richard, I know I have to love you, but I sure as hell don’t like you.”
So said the mother of a friend of mine to her then errant adolescent son. He
is grown-up now and is a respectable lawyer, with all the visible trappings
of success (plus some not so visible ones, such as a drink problem). He has
never forgotten the comment. It stunned him at the time and it has coloured
his relations with her ever since. His father’s death four years ago was
when he felt it most keenly: “It’s just me and Mum now. And no one likes to
hang around where they’re not wanted.”
Women who regret having children are the silent minority. And with good
reason. Maternal ambivalence is damaging for children and parent alike,
therefore it is rarely articulated explicitly. Partly this is to do with
society’s archetypes and our expectation of happy-ever-after relationships.
In fairy stories parents love their kids unconditionally. Today there is
agreement that for some women this bond can take time to kick in. However,
the assumption is still that (barring ruptures to the bonding process such
as traumatic birth experiences) all women will love their children and will
find motherhood fulfilling and stimulating.
Leaving aside the reality that mothering is hard work, often anything but
fulfilling, questionably stimulating when you’re changing the umpteenth
nappy, and seriously undervalued in our money-oriented culture, what is
rarely discussed is the group of women who privately regret having kids.
Even for women who adore their kids, the monotony and loneliness can make
some feel that their lives are diminishing. So imagine what it’s like for
those who suspect they’ve made a mistake. It’s a suspicion that will blight
their lives and, unwittingly, those of their children.
“He came along and ruined everything”
Harriet dislikes her firstborn Charlie because deep down he reminds her of her
unfaithful exhusband; Charlie is away at boarding school where, Harriet
says: “I can pretend he doesn’t exist for weeks on end.” Aneka believes that
she has lost her husband to her son: “They’re off doing ‘boy’ things. Things
were much better before he came along and ruined everything.” Jane’s mother
was a single mum. “I’ve never been able to shake off the sense that I’ve let
Mum down,” Jane says. Meaning well, Jane’s mother often advises her “not to
make the same mistakes I made”, thereby subtly reinforcing the idea that
Jane was/is a “mistake”.
Good attachments in early childhood are crucial for behaviour and development
in later life. John Bowlby, the foremost attachment theorist, explains that
good, healthy attachments to the mother will enable a child to trust in the
consistency and security of that relationship. Inadequate attachments or
emotional deprivation will give rise to an angry, indifferent, or clingy
child. The damage can also influence relationships in adulthood, and may
lead to substance misuse, depression, eating disorders and other indicators
of shaky self-esteem.
With so much at stake, it’s no wonder that women who regret having kids feel
ashamed and keep quiet. This makes it hard for them to get the help they
need, which is available and essential. One difficulty is that the arrival
in the early 1960s of the Pill gave women control over their fertility. As
such, the assumption is that women who have children really want them. And
this is not always the case.
We know that motherhood changes lives. We know all about the lack of sleep,
the reduced social life, the loss of libido. What is underacknowledged is
how vulnerable psychologically the new mother is to the loss of her old
self. With all the freedoms that can come from a fabulous career, or
financial independence, the new mum may be underprepared for the
psychological impact of being totally responsible for someone else.
This is where a new mum’s extended network is so crucial. Years ago, when we
lived surrounded by extended family and old school-friends, a new birth was
a collaborative affair. Today our increasingly fractured society, with its
emphasis on the worship of celebrity and perfection, can lead many mothers
to feel isolated, inadequate and misunderstood. But even if your own mother
is on hand to help, this is not necessarily the perfect solution.
Emma’s relationship with her mother, Eleanor, had long been coloured by
Eleanor’s maternal ambivalence. This all changed when Emma became pregnant
with Kirsty. “When I started my maternity leave Mum would visit every few
days, even though the round trip is 120 miles. It upset me that she was
being so proactive for her first grandchild when she never so much as came
to sports day when I was growing up.” When Kirsty was born, Emma found it so
hard to bond with her baby that she was admitted to a psychiatric hospital
for severe postnatal depression.
In Emma’s case there was a legacy of unspoken anger towards a parent who had
treated her in childhood as little more than an appendage. As a result,
Emma’s relationship with Eleanor had an adverse effect on her ability to
bond with Kirsty. In therapy Emma was able to acknowledge her huge
resentment towards her mother and her jealousy towards her baby for being
the unwitting recipient of what was experienced as invasive grandmotherly
affection.
Learning that parenting is about the child
The important thing is that women such as Emma received help because when a
baby becomes part of the equation, the emphasis must be on a holistic
approach to put the baby at the centre of things. This does not mean
ignoring the needs of the mother, who may be depressed, angry, resentful or
just in need of reassurance. Whatever the scenario, the mother must be
attended to to help her to look after her baby.
For some this will eventually mean going back to work, to bring in extra
income perhaps, or to retain a sense of themselves as a working woman which
enables them to be a better mother. For others it will be about finding
someone to talk to who can help to acknowledge unspoken fears, longings or
resentments, and to come to terms with the fact that parenting is for the
child’s benefit, not the other way around.
Not all women are cut out to be mothers. I know; I interviewed some for my
novel Something I’m Not. But many go ahead with pregnancy,
hoping that ambivalence will be annihilated during labour by a love-bomb of
hormones. And for most women, this will happen. Those for whom it doesn’t
deserve our understanding and encouragement to get the right help. More than
their life depends on it. Names and details have been changed
Lucy Beresford is a writer and psychotherapist, registered with the UK
Council for Psychotherapy; www.lucyberesford.co.uk
. Something I’m Not (Duckworth, £12.99) is available from
Times Books First for £11.70, p&p free. Phone 0870 1608080 or visit timesonline.co.uk/booksfirst
For feedback on this article, see timesonline.co.uk/alphamummy
The biology of bonding
Oxytocin Known as the “attachment hormone”, this plays a crucial role
in mother-child bonding. When a woman starts to breast-feed, oxytocin is
released into her body, travelling both to her brain, and to her baby’s
brain via the breast milk. Here it encourages feelings of sleepiness,
euphoria and love.
Prolactin A hormone released when women start to breast-feed. Studies
suggest that it has antidepressive and antianxiety effects.
Skin to skin contact Thought to be vital for cementing the
mother-infant bond. Scientists have found that skin contact straight after
birth increases blood oxytocin levels, and in 2006 a lecturer in midwifery
called for mothers to hold their babies close to their skin for the first
hour after birth.
When a ‘party animal’ became a mother
Janice, in her fifties, came to me for psychotherapy during an episode of
depression triggered by the discovery that one of her daughters had married
without inviting her. Janice has three adult children, but poor
relationships with all of them; two have chosen to live overseas. She was
frustrated at being excluded from her children’s lives and her biggest fear
was that she would never get to see her grandchildren.
Blaming the kids In our work together, we looked at her maternal
ambivalence. Being pregnant before marriage affected her sense of who she
was, which, in turn, affected her relationships with her adored husband and
children. All the pregnancies were unplanned and Janice went from being “a
bit of a party animal” to having three children under the age of 3. Her
husband threw himself into work, and the marriage eventually disintegrated.
Anger and pain Subconsciously, Janice felt that having children
destroyed her life. She projected that anger on to her children for the way
they lived their lives; and it’s possible that they were acting out their
anger later in life by excluding her.
Losing her self For Janice, the new role of motherhood had been
experienced as a disastrous loss of identity. In therapy she was able to
access her anger, render it less toxic, and come to some acceptance of her
children’s autonomy. Her relationship with them is improving all the time.
