For My Mom

Parents aren't perfect. I think that's one of the hardest realizations for a child reaching adulthood. Your whole life these people who created you, fed you, kept you alive, and took care of you, you just assume that they have everything figured out. They're grown ups. Then you reach adulthood, maybe the same age as they were when they had you, and you realize you don't know anything, so they for sure didn't either. 

Then you have your own kid(s) and realize how hard it all is to juggle and figure out. 

And you learn more with every passing day that they were just doing the best they could. Especially your mom. 

Two years ago, I was in a doula training at the University of Utah. I was a little over a year postpartum. My period had been back for about 6 months with an absolute vengeance. I was filling two period cups a day on my heaviest days. 

During training I got up to use the restroom and realized I had bled past my cup, past my pad, through my underwear, through my shorts, and even onto the chair I was sitting on. At 36 years old you're no less horrified (even if maybe a little less panicked). I obviously didn't have any extra clothes with me. 

Who did I call? My mom. She was at my condo watching my son while I was doing this training. I felt really bad because the U is not close by or easy to navigate, and she already was watching my kid and would have to haul him all the way up there. 

She was horrified on my behalf, grabbed some products and some extra clothes, and drove from Sandy up to the U with my baby to bring them to me. My mom didn't make a fuss about it. She didn't seem inconvenienced. She actually felt really bad it happened to me. Meanwhile I just felt so bad for needing to ask for something else. 

Thinking about this memory two years later brings tears to my eyes. I'm so grateful for her readiness to act when I needed help. While moms fall short and certainly don't have it figured out, they really do come through when it counts. 

Being a full-time working mom was not something I wanted after I reached full-blown adulthood and realized that I wouldn't want to leave my babies. I had communicated that I wanted to be home with my babies. That clearly has not happened yet. And at the age of 35 with just one child and a very involved partner, I have entered the stage of life that my mom entered at just 24. 

Working full-time, keeping a house clean, dishes done, laundry folded, a fridge stocked, bellies full, child healthy and at appointments, managing animals, scheduling vehicle maintenance, checking mail, plus all the things I haven't started yet (like actual school, sports, hobbies, etc.) is not a job for one person. 

I've become pretty vocal about the mental load, affordable childcare, and paid parental leave since I've become a (working) mom. I've encouraged everyone I know to watch the Fair Play documentary on Hulu, to read the book, and to do the card deck with their partner. A parent in a partnership should not have to carry the whole load. Invisible labor is real.

I witnessed my mom drown in the load of managing the home and four kids while working full-time. For the record, she handled it all a lot better than I would have, with much less help than I have. I think all the pressure and stress she felt took a toll. And she's made a lot of mistakes over the years as a result--things I've had to work to understand and forgive. 

This last year, especially the last five months, have been hard on my mom. She made some choices with big consequences and tried to deal with them on her own under the weight of heavy shame. But with some vulnerability and willingness on her part to be honest and take some steps to heal, I've been able to access a whole lot more grace for her. 

Becoming a mom changes every part of a person. I like to think that it has made me better. It has helped me better understand and appreciate my mom and all she did and does for me (even if she doesn't answer the phone before 12pm). 

No, she's not perfect. But she does her best, and she loves her kids. And I love her for it. Thanks, mom.