A biological fact. A cultural event. A rite of passage. Changed interrelations with all those around her. The process of becoming a mother. A woman’s identity transition. A completely new self. The critical transition period which has been missed. (words taken from Raphael, Sacks, Rich, Jones).
A critical transition period which doesn’t even warrant a space in the English dictionary?
I sometime liken becoming a mother to learning to drive. We assume because the overwhelming majority of the population do it, that it must be easy. Then we sit in the driver’s seat, try and operate the clutch, think about the gears, and glance in the correct mirrors every X number of seconds, all whilst keeping an eye out for the occasional hooligan move from a fellow driver. And we realise whilst the reward is great, the process is pretty bloody difficult.
I remember sitting in the crossroads in a stalled car, freaking out. To the point I got my mother out of the car and we swapped seats and she drove us off to safety. In motherhood, I have had 100s of crossroads moments. Generally, there is no one to swap seats with me.
Yet when we learn to drive, we learn in a vehicle adorned with L plates so that the rest of society can give us extra space and leniency. We have an experienced driver, often a professional, with us every single minute we are in that car learning to drive. We have to pass two tests to prove our competency.
To become a mother, you procreate and that’s it. You’re now a mother. Even when you’re ‘just’ a mother to a little bean growing inside you, you’ve transitioned. You’re facing the extreme unknown with no experience, no instructor holding your hand through every moment, no guide book.
The first stage of matrescence passed in a daze for me, a long blurring of days and nights and chocolate and walking and walking and walking.
Somethings about matrescence no one tells you:
You are desperate for a break but the struggle to take one is extreme. It is hard to untangle yourself from the small delicate creature that seems to need you and only you. And you need them close too. To know they’re ok, in every moment.
You will hear your baby crying in the shower, even if they’re not.
You will tell everyone everything’s great, you’re loving it, your baby is magical when 5 minutes before you’ve been balling your eyes out at the sheer overwhelm of it all.
The joy of your baby is literally unparrelled. You will spend long periods of time just gazing at them.
You will feel pure rage at your husband going for a shower when you haven’t washed your hair for 8 days.
Nothing feels better than getting a baby to sleep and watching them snoozing beautifully.
Church halls have a weird smell and suddenly you’re sitting in them frequently.
You take on an obsession with numbers: minutes since last feed/sleep/nappy change, minutes fed, mls of milk, hours and minutes and days since you last slept, minutes your partner has spent in the bathroom.
You find a strength you never knew you had. In the days and nights where getting up feels impossible, somehow you do it. You reach new depths of yourself physically, emotionally and spirituality.
You find a new depth to yourself. Different things matter. Things that seemed insignificant before become intolerable. Your sense of values and right and wrong in the world intensifies. Both your joy and your anger awaken a passion you never knew lay dormant within you.
You become part of a club. When you see mothers out you share a secret smile or nod, or other acknowledgment “we’re in this together’. You converse with strangers at the swings. You sit in a circle singing “Wind the Bobbin up” with women you would never have otherwise come across. You feel weird when you go out alone – no one will recognise that I am part of the club without my little, squidgy badge of honour.
Why do we need to spread the word about matrescence?
Imagine how many woman are out there, mainly alone, thinking something is wrong with them. Not understanding this was actually meant to happen. The losing yourself. There is no ‘bouncing back’ despite what capitalist marketing will tell you. Once we allow ourselves to dissolve, only then can we find some peace. And after peace, we piece ourselves into a new being. Our identity transition. Our completely new self. Our critical transition.
Please share this article with anyone you know that would benefit from it – pregnant mamas, new mamas, mamas transitioning from one to two. Let’s spread the word and support each other.
Some resources to help you through your matrescence:
- The Motherkind Podcast – the voice of Zoe Blaskey held me like a reassuring auntie through matrescence. Words were given to the experience I could not describe.
- Matrescence by Lucy Jones – factual evidence and acknowledgment of the massive change, proof no one of us are alone.
- Mama Rising – practical advice on how to handle this huge life process.
- Local motherhood groups – look for Mother’s Circles, The Mum Club, Mums supporting Mums groups in your area.
- Individual support – see my services page if my words resonate.
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