multifaceted mother

Since Monday morning, I’ve been going through the weird dilemma of missing my baby all at once, yet being surprisingly content with a four-night break from being called ‘Mama’. I was a mess on Sunday evening. I held my baby close to me and couldn’t imagine that for the first time since his birth, I was not sleeping next to him. When I count my consciousness of him during my pregnancy, the time of our togetherness seems even longer. And now I’m here, finally on the other side of anxiety. Tomorrow, when you read this column, I will be mid-flight back to Milan. We will be united again.

I was lucky that I was living with my family in Dubai. It definitely helped distract me. Did I contact my partner or video call my child? No, I am only sending video transmissions. I thought it would be best not to check on her caregivers – my partner and my in-laws – so that they wouldn’t feel like they needed to report me. Returning to Dubai to meet her niece and nephew, now 15 and 14, was also a nice reminder of the fact that these separations are small breaks in their trajectories. Nor does he have any memory of living without his mother in his childhood. The advice I mentioned last week about the anxiety that comes from a lack of trust in people has stood me in good stead. Another soothing text I read described how, in the absence of a breastfeeding mother, the baby will simply sleep with the father or alternate caregiver. It’s not that they need food to sleep, in fact, they need to feel safe and provided with the right environment.

To anyone who doesn’t have kids, it may seem strange to hear me talk about separation for the first time, but it is very physical, especially when one is breastfeeding. It has something to do with experiencing one’s consciousness differently. Also, there are very different levels of fatigue to be experienced. For example, last night I struggled to sleep because I wasn’t tired enough. Even though it was already midnight and I had spent the last two hours in a shopping mall (the joy of being in Dubai during Ramadan) and had spent the entire day first at a workshop I was co-hosting with the Sharjah Art Foundation in Africa I am doing it. Institute, then travel to Al Dhaid and back, an hour’s drive from downtown Sharjah, to see an exhibition of Palestinian art from the Foundation’s collection. Despite all this intellectual and physical intensity, not taking care of a baby doesn’t cause a lot of body fatigue, which, in combination with mild jet lag, means I can’t sleep normally. I remained awake constantly as if my body was rejecting everyone else too.

There is one word used to describe the amazing experience of becoming a mother. This is called ‘mattressance’. It refers to the complexity of suddenly being in double consciousness and the physical experience of realizing that you are no longer your previous self. Shopping is a weird thing because I don’t even know what my ‘style’ is anymore. I wear baggier jeans and prefer loose-fitting clothes, but my wardrobe from my prenatal days felt different to me. What I choose to spend my energy on when I’m alone with myself has also changed. For example, during my flight, I felt happy watching Bluey, an animated cartoon about a family of dogs living in Brisbane. It thrilled me because it captured so much of the joys and pains of parenting.

I think if there’s one category of people who are idolized the most but who never feel seen, it’s mothers. Within this there is the category of stay-at-home mother and ‘working’ mother, both categories with obscene words, because motherhood in itself is exhausting labour. For me, holding a job at the same time feels welcome because it takes me away from the drudgery of the singularity of maternal identity. Being given the opportunity to connect with other people who are not my children reminds me that there are other dimensions to my identity.

Our child calls my work ‘mom study’. This is perfect because I continue to learn even when I teach. Working with students – mostly Gen Z – is something I’ve done in parallel with working a full-time job and being a mom, and it is, quite possibly, the most rewarding form of professional labor. I enjoy being in the company of people whose sense of self is still in flux. Because I feel secure about myself and confident in my skills as a lecturer, I allow myself to enjoy the feeling of awe that I see being directed toward me. I see their minds lighting up. I see their world changing. I see this form of labor, like intentional parenting, as another form of feminist activism. It fills my heart with joy, happiness and hope. I feel complicit in slowly changing the trajectory of the future.

Discussing the life and times of the Everywoman, Rosalyn D’Mello is a distinguished art critic and author of A Handbook for My Lover. She tweets @RosaParx
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The views expressed in this column are personal and do not represent the views of the newspaper.