My name is Janani. Janani means ‘mother’. It also means creator.
Was I always meant to be one?
Caring comes naturally for me.
Caring as a social worker – as I’ve done the last 15 years. Caring for different causes as an activist. Caring for families, friends, neighbours. As we all do. And these roles often pull me in different directions, challenging me to balance social commitments/passions with what is often considered private or domestic life.
How does one – especially as a new mother – balance identities?
After a recent holiday in which we visited our family, these reflections have deepened. One of the best things about time spent with family is that meals are shared together. For me, the act of sharing meals has always helped me think about the duality of individual vs the collective.
Motherhood.
Filled with complex layers that society often won’t acknowledge. One one hand, there is this expectation of self-sacrifice. A normalisation of it. And yet mothers are whole people, with ambitions and dreams that extend far beyond caregiving. She may have a vision about the world. Or pursuits that go far beyond a little one’s demands of her attention.
Why is it hard to imagine a young mother as a thinker? As someone who desires change, equality, social justice? Challenged by the absence of any support systems in caring for her little one – can she still have the headspace to write a blog?
And that brings me to domesticity.
The trap of domesticity. The biggest “boss” of life currently – errands.
How many times I’ve thought to myself recently… that sometimes there is no end to housework. While bustling between one errand to another, cuddles of love or the wails of teething-pain can happen in between it all.
Motherhood is often viewed solely from the lens of oppression. For good reasons too. Privileged as my social location is (within the Indian society context), yet, the women in my families gave up everything after motherhood. While the oppression narrative is important, a singular focus on it would “crowd out” other aspects.
A complete rejection of motherhood can also be limiting. Some friends will avoid motherhood at all costs. But creating and raising a human being is an enriching experience that is not so easily to be dismissed either. In my opinion, at least.
Personally, something deep within me stirred during the gloom of pandemic. The lockdown disruptions were the first time I heard the smallest voice inside me whispering a curiosity to be a mother.
And I was willing to jump in even as I had a lot of unanswered questions. Questions that I asked of myself.
The “stretch” of motherhood
There are some things in life which stretch us beyond our limits. Sometimes they are externally imposed on us.
There are other things that stretch us, which we have knowingly, consciously chosen. We know it’s going to be an incredibly crazy choice, possibly driven by passion. We might still elect to go for it.
The stretch when you are a young mother is really special. Because it’s such a complex blend.
There are breathtaking moments. Equally, there is care-work to be done all of the day, and through several wakings night after night.
It helps to remember that this is a phase. That it will become less intensive some months down the line. This balance will change. I humbly remind myself that I’m still luckier than a lot of other women who have even less support than I do. The cycles of child-birth and elderly care and husbands (the ones who don’t contribute to housework) that I have witnessed in rural India come to mind. There I think the problem is more complex.
Today’s post is special because –
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| Even through many helpless moments, a mother emerges renewed. Even through this stretch, a mother is stronger. Until my next post. |