Men, What be Thy Purpose?!?
To my wonderful husband Paul, I’m sorry. I had to…
Like many of my mama friends, I seem to have made a critical error in cognitive reasoning. While pregnant, I somehow believed that our lives would change but that our marriage would remain the same. Now, I’m not at all sure what that even means. It is a ludicrous statement and I should be ridiculed for thinking it.
Still, I must continue. Not only did I imagine– despite warnings from books and magazines– that my husband and I would find ourselves snuggled on the bed with Silas between us, more in love than we had ever been, but I also felt confident that once the baby was outside the body, that our roles as caregivers would be instantly equalized. I mean, the baby would be tangible, holdable, real. He’d be up for childcare grabs. In my daydreams, I witnessed my husband grabbing. And grabbing. And grabbing some more.
I also thought we might be, I don’t know, having sex.
Oh, ho, ho. The folly of being childless. The innocence. The idealism. The unknowing.
Now, when asked how things are going with my husband, I frequently answer, with my signature false, close-mouthed, I-dare-you-to-delve-deeper smile, that I didn’t realize I’d signed on to caring for twins.
I mean, after gas pains and constipation, queasiness, and exhaustion. After lugging the body of an eight pound baby up hill and through the grocery store. After exercising and avoiding fun snacks like ice cream and fluffernutters. After twinges of knife-like pain shooting through my vagina. After breasts, seeping from their F-cups, so swollen and sore it hurt to take a shower. After hemorrhoids and muscle cramps. After having to use a step stool to get into bed. After laboring for 20 hours without medication, all through the deep, dark night; and then on Pitocin, and then feeling like I disrespected myself, my birth, and all the women who labored naturally before me, by asking for and accepting an epidural because I was still- after 20 hours and on Pitocin– stuck at four measly little centimeters. After bruising my tailbone while pushing a living human creature from my body, and then having, for the next three weeks, to carry around a padded vinyl toilet seat to ease myself into (and I’d only just turned thirty!) After nursing a three-day-old boy for almost twelve hours straight on nipples that felt like open blisters. After waking hour upon surreal-night-time-hour feeding and changing and swaddling a baby…
I didn’t think I would have to explain why the floor needed mopping.
Suddenly, all of the things about my husband that may have provoked a slight twinge of annoyance, suddenly seemed like the rupture of a volcano. There were nights when I was sure that our marriage was over simply because I heard him snoring peacefully in the other room. Oh, dear, sweet men, what be thy purpose?
I am relieved to know that, among the mothersphere, I am not alone in my fears of and wallows in marital despair. (And, to be fair, my husband is a lovely man, with many redeemable qualities, and I have been assured by my psychiatrist that some, and let me reiterate, some, not all, of my feelings toward my husband had to do with my capital-S “Sickness”. But, should a woman who has carried and bore and cared for a child really have to make a detailed list of chores for the seemingly full-grown???)
So, I am bashing. Said husband might not be pleased.
But, a woman needs to vent her frustration or it surfaces in other ways. Like the accidental tossing of frying pans. Or, the icy, arctic, cold, cold shoulder.
And, honestly, I wouldn’t be writing this if I thought it was our marriage alone. Apparently, the first year with your first child is a difficult one.
Hmpfh!
(Note: I have written that I really hated naysayers and negative advice dolers when I was pregnant. And, I still do. But, I also wish that I had been more prepared for the absolute desecration and reconstruction of everything I once knew. If you are pregnant for the first time and you are reading this, Congratulations!, and I am sorry. If you have already had a first child, then, I don’t have to apologize. You know what I mean.)
Now all I can really do is this:
Dear Husbands,
Sweet, lovable, clueless, dopey, husbands,
Rub your wife’s feet and shoulders. And, don’t expect anything more.
Not yet anyway. Not until she’s finished breastfeeding.
If you get any further than foot-rubbing, count yourself lucky. Be thankful and show her that your thankful.
If there is a mop in a bucket of dirty water sitting next to the bathroom door and your wife is cooking for company (oh, why is your wife cooking for company when you have a newborn?), the dirty water needs to be dumped out in some appropriate place (like the toilet) and the mop needs to be rinsed and put away. Empty rolls of toilet paper need to be replaced with full rolls of toilet paper.
Offer to take night duty, even if its just one tiny, forgettable night, even if it means using formula, so that she can sleep on through like a normal person might and enjoy her REM dreams. Then, in the morning, take duty again. Maybe she can sleep until 8AM. Maybe 9AM. Maybe 10.
Forgive your wife if she snaps at you for the way you diaper or change your baby. Or if she freaks out when you feed them some nasty combination of peas and prunes. She only wants what’s best for your child. Please know that little babies need socks and hats when it is under 50 degrees outside.
Remember that your wife also likes to go out with the girls and grab a drink. She is not a machine and you are not a cave dweller. She feigned off partying for at least 10 months. Encourage her to take a night out on the town. Tell her she looks nice when she gets dolled up. If she’s still wearing maternity jeans assure her that no one will notice and that her ass looks good.
Did I mention that you should rub her feet and shoulders?
You should learn how to snip the baby’s finger and toe nails. You should also learn how to rinse off a cloth diaper.
You should read up on women’s hormones or at the very least respect that hormones are very powerful little beings and that a woman’s body goes through a mind-boggling amount of shift and discord.
You should worship your wife for bringing life into this world. Whatever worship means to you: running a nice warm bubble bath, bringing home flowers, offering to take the baby while she goes for a nice 45 minute walk. Bringing life into the world isn’t easy.
You should love, love, love, love, love your wife. And, quietly, without complaint, do the dishes.Thank you.
Yours respectfully,
Emily Marjean Coolbeth
June 26th, 2008 at 12:43 pm
LOL. Very well said! I have two children, now five and three but I remember those first few months, lying in bed, hating my husband for sleeping, breathing. The last thing I ever wanted was for him to touch me an anyway. Hard stuff. My advice to any new moms and pre-moms: know that this to shall pass. Your emotions will come back, your sense of humor, even your love for your husband, it will all come back. (Except for your perky boobs, those, my friends, are gone forever.) Also that no matter what you do or don’t do, the baby will eventually sleep through the night and until then just try and remember we have all gone through it, being beyond exhausted and this too will pass. If you can somehow objectively observe yourself, there is something kind of fascinating on the effects of long term sleep deprivation –I would consistently put the milk in the cupboard and the car key in the refrigerator and then stare at it trying to figure out what was out of place.
The only thing I would say is try to give the husbands the considerations that you yourself want. Now I know EXACTLY how the author feels but still it should be pointed out to new moms that the husband’s life has changed too. They are just as over come with emotion but don’t have the means of expression. They have gone from being the center of your world to a very distant second and as much as they know it is hormones, there is no way they can really know about hormones just like a pre-mom won’t know until you have had that afternoon sobbing on the bathroom floor holding an infant with your nipples feeling like they dredged in crushed glass. They really don’t know what to do; they have never done it before, sadly and are just as unprepared as you for this massive change. They don’t really understand and they have no really bonded yet. If you have any mind left, try and keep that in it. Just know, it will be ok.
June 26th, 2008 at 3:07 pm
Thank you for the reassurance. Marriage after childbirth has been tougher than I expected. It’s good to know that the experience is normal and temporary! You are right about husband’s having to adjust to being a distant second. I know it has been hard on mine.
Also, if you don’t mind, would you let me know how you found my blog?
Thanks for reading and commenting!
Emily
June 29th, 2008 at 7:51 pm
Fantastic Emily! You summed the whole experience up beautifully. The question about writing down a detailed list of chores for the “seemingly full- grown” is priceless!
And many thanks to the woman who posted the comment letting us all know this too shall pass! Thank goodness! Though I gotta tell you, I never had perky boobs anyway, so in that respect I didn’t have anything to lose.