When there were villages was postpartum depression as prevalent?
I was talking to my friend the other day, as I always talk to her on my drive back from dropping my daughter off at daycare. I said, “I was watching Moana with Maeve and it was the scene in the very beginning where Moana’s grandmother was in a hut, telling a bunch of the village’s children the story of their history. The dad comes in and scoops Moana up and hugs her. Then, she wonders off to the ocean. Her dad finds her and brings her back to her mom and the village. Her mom looked happy. I instantly felt sadness. I thought about how all of those other village people were around and they all parented together. I bet she can have one of the other moms, or elders, watch Moana when she’s sick and needs rest. I’m sure if she has a night where she doesn’t sleep because Moana is up all night, she can hand her over and get some sleep. Where is my village? Why am I always so sad?”
They never even showed any of this in the movie. I’m just so hungry for that support that I created this entire scenario in my head. But, I know it’s not a facade because the more I learn about history and other cultures, the more I realize that the nuclear family is not how we were designed.
Ever since having Maeve I’ve been enraged with how much talk is centered around mothers needing antidepressants. I’m not mad at the thought of the actual medicine, as I’m a firm believer in mental health and taking care of yourself however your therapist and yourself see fit. What I’m mad at is everyone wants to just throw a bandaid on something that needs a real fix. But, I have no idea how we get there. We live in a country rooted in capitalism. How would we ever get back to a society that can support each other, when the very makeup of our country profits off of us being separate and desperate? This isn’t to get into a political rant, it’s to point out how lonely us moms are.
We have books, podcasts, videos, etc. on how we didn’t realize how awful parenthood would be.
We feel we have to preface every complaint with, “I love my child, BUT…” It’s out of fear of judgement, or hell, fear of saying how hard this is out loud and admitting that we don’t know how or when it will get better.
I was told, “Just wait until she’s 3 months old. It gets so much easier.” Then, “Just wait until she’s 6 months old. It gets so much better.” Then, “Just wait until she’s a year…2…3…oh, wait until she’s 6, it’s wonderful then.”
So what? I just spend the next several years wishing it was bedtime. Wishing my days away until she’s at an age where I don’t feel like I carry all of the weight of her?
My husband and I are constantly exhausted. It’s not even physical exhaustion at this point because she’s been sleeping pretty great since weaning her a couple of weeks ago. We are mentally and emotionally exhausted. It’s just us and her all of the time. There are no distractions from friends with kids around us. There are no distractions with visiting family on the weekends. We realize that some of this is our own doing. We are gentle parenting and not everyone respects boundaries or understands the way we are doing things. But, this means there are no distractions for her, other than her two parents. We’re starting to understand why people have more than one child…for the distractions. But, we know we only want one. There is a loneliness in that, when their shouldn’t be.
We weren’t designed to live this way. Maeve was designed to have many sisters and brothers, in a village. My husband and I were designed to have others around us who told the same stories and helped us look after our little love.
I don’t know the solution, but I write all of this because I don’t know where else to put it at times.
I write all of this because I know we could fill so many villages full of people who are out there, crying, because they don’t have a village.
