Latest / Thinking Out Loud | Kimberly / Why Do We Moralize Survival Choices Made By Mothers? | Thinking Out Loud
Transcript
- Kimberly Roller: Why it when a mother is struggling, we don't ask what she needs? ⁓ We ask, what is she doing wrong? Because I've noticed something. The moment a mother makes a decision out of survival, feeding choices, birth choices, recovery choices, we turn it into a reflection of her character, not her capacity, not her support system, not her circumstances, her character. Hi. It's me, Kimberly, and today I want to talk about a question I don't hear asked enough in motherhood. Why do we moralize survival choices made by mothers? and before we go further, quick note, this podcast is for reflection and conversation, not professional advice. Take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and listen in a way that feels supportive to you. this question didn't come from theory, it came from loving it. I get it, parents aren't perfect, and honestly, we're not supposed to be. If there's one lesson I'm actively trying to teach my kids, it's this. ⁓ matters more than perfection. We are going to hurt each other. Hopefully not intentionally, but it's gonna happen. 1 2 3 4 5 sometimes big things. it's small things. Maybe it's accidentally stepping on your kid's foot or bumping into them. Maybe it's dropping phone on your baby while breastfeeding. ⁓ And yes, I'm absolutely guilty of one. ⁓ And unfortunately, it can be losing temper. ⁓ Let's be clear here. This is not about normalizing yelling at kids or excusing What I am saying is this, ⁓ when rupture happens, repair, it's everything. If the damage is small, sometimes a hug and genuine, I'm sorry. mommy was grumpy is enough for a toddler. What's wild is how perceptive kids actually And when I get snappy, ⁓ even if it's not directed at my toddler, ⁓ just looks at her dad and says, ⁓ grumpy. Mommy needs a nap. And listen, And listen, I hate how accurate that is because she's right. This mama is due for a nap. two, ⁓ one. After my first baby, ⁓ I struggled deeply. Postpartum depression, postpartum postpartum rage. And if I'm fully being honest, a of postpartum psychosis. screamed ⁓ I want admit. of time it wasn't directed at my baby, and the few times it was, it scared me. And that's when I learned something important. Putting your baby down safely and walking away for 5 minutes is not abandonment. It's self-regulation. ⁓ I was overstimulated, overtired, running on empty. Later, I even tried to turn it into a game for her so it felt less scary because here's the thing, kids don't need perfect parents. They really just need parents who try to come back, who are trying to regulate or actively learning how to. It took me 23 months postpartum to feel like I had control of my life again. Then boom, I got pregnant. Ironically though, my mental health improved, but physically I was exhausted. That pregnancy was hard, specifically towards the end. After five years of enduring fertility treatments before I even got pregnant with my first baby. ⁓ I was not okay during that time. So by the time I got pregnant with my second, I was finally starting to feel like myself again, just for my body to force me to slow down. So I did my best to soak up every moment with my oldest. I was happier, but I was grieving at the same time. After a year of trying for a second baby, I truly had given up. I genuinely thought if I never have another, I just want to be happy, healthy for my current child that I already had. ⁓ Then the universe said no. I choose you. ⁓ So by the third trimester things got rough. I gained a lot of weight. I had gestational diabetes for the second time. essentially preeclampsia. It just wasn't bad enough for my doctor to say emergency c-section Mentally, I felt clearer than I had in years. Physically... Parenting my toddler felt impossible. See, this little girl has so much energy. She is my firecracker, my wild child. She is that kid that anyone she meets is her new friend. And she's gonna do incredible things in this world. She's just amazing. She's one of those people that just loves people, pure love. And it was so beautiful when she met her baby sister. I honestly thought I was gonna be magical, but I got a different type of magic, humor, because she thought her sister was a doll until the baby moved. Then pure horror, and she realized, ⁓ this thing's alive. I'm scared, Mom. But when she actually understood what that meant, she fully committed to being a big sister. She expected her baby sister to play with her immediately. She was kind of willing to wait, I guess. Well, barely. In the meantime, she insists on holding her, burping her, helping constantly. We tried very hard to include her in the transition and make sure she felt chosen, not replaced. And still, it's hard. I feel like I'm crushing it with my second and still completely figuring it out with my first child. despite my experience working with kids, motherhood humbled me quickly, but I kind of knew it was going to humble me. I just didn't expect it to happen so quickly. With my first child, it didn't go how I imagined. I felt isolated, abandoned, ⁓ very lonely. ⁓ I'm grateful for my best friend who pulled me out of the darkness and invited me to do weekly play dates. grateful for my husband. Even when he didn't know what to do, he kept trying. Over time, he became a deeply involved dad like he always wanted to be. ⁓ We were forced into the realization I couldn't be the everything working mom. And more importantly, I shouldn't be. We shouldn't glorify mothers doing all the childcare alone. That's not strength, that's survival mode. Marriage isn't about dividing duties. It's about partnership. When my husband is down, I step in. When I'm struggling, he shows up. It didn't come naturally to us at first, but we're learning our kids' quirks. Sometimes we get our mojo back, and then the universe has other plans because our kid is learning a new skill, and now bedtime becomes impossible. That's when I realized I needed a village. And at first that realization kind of made me feel like a failure. I thought I should be able to do it all. And also, I didn't like who I was postpartum. I felt too sensitive, too needy. And honestly, like with how broken down my body was, kind of felt like a loser, honestly. But then ⁓ met someone who thought I great. ⁓ and she wanted to be my friend, but I didn't trust it at the time. A year later, I realized I owed her apology. She wasn't too good to be true. She was just genuine. ⁓ She stayed patient with me, kind, willing to learn what I needed a friend. ⁓ And when I was finally ready, ⁓ opened up to the moms in group ⁓ who understood what I was going through. explanation required, but if I wanted to explain, they'd listen. My friend Elizabeth. This beautiful, resilient human started a community, a spicy book club, where we rarely talk about the books. Sometimes we read them. Most of the time we just exist together. It's full of acceptance, grace, messy honesty. We don't have it figured out and we're learning that's okay. My daughters don't need a perfect mom. I don't even like the title good mom. For me, I want to be regulated mom, a kind mom, a patient mom. A mom who sees her kids as individuals, thinks ahead for them and feels deeply with I didn't have it together before they were born. I probably never will. But I plan to repair the damage I cause. ⁓ I'm human. I'll mess up. Conflict will happen. I mean, I'm a girl mom for goodness sakes. choose right over wrong, but not this but we're family. I'll love them unconditionally rather than picking their personalities. I'm stubborn about justice, but I've learned that there's a time and a place for honesty and it does require consent. My don't a perfect mom. They need me to be a present one. That's my biggest lesson right now. ⁓ some days the house be messy. Some days we'll have to order pizza. Some days this mom is gonna need a to breathe. I've learned over stimulation is a signal, not a failure. You can love a mother and still completely overwhelmed by it. That doesn't you It you human. ⁓ ⁓ I can do it isn't helping anyone. leads to burnout. We need community. We need people who want our chaos, ⁓ who don't just cherry pick the part of that are convenient. My babies are my miracles. My husband, he fits my puzzle perfectly, especially when I'm not sleep deprived. And one day, I truly hope to see myself the way my husband, my kids, and my amazing friends see me. Motherhood taught me this. I don't get the joys without the mess. These girls are my monkeys. This house is my zoo. And somehow I'm exactly where I wanted to be. We don't shame dads for working late. We don't shame people for outsourcing what they can't manage. But mothers who are expected to absorb everything. And when we can't, we turn it into a moral conversation. So back to the question, why do we moralize survival choices made by mothers? ⁓ because it feels like it's easier to judge a coping strategy than admit the system wasn't built to support her. Because if we call it lazy, selfish, or weak, we don't have to ask harder questions about community, partnership, and unrealistic standards. because when a mother instead of we assume she failed instead of asking what failed her. Until we fix this problem, be kind, ask questions. ⁓ Offer help instead of judgment. Heck, maybe even start your own book club. Learn to be a villager because you're not needing to be a hero by doing everything yourself.