A love-hate relationship with our “village”

There is so much anecdotal and scholarly research out there about the value of a reliable support network during the early days of motherhood. So many moms wish for accessible parents, in-laws, aunts, cousins, etc., whose help they can summon per diem, no questions asked. It was certainly true for me that in those first few weeks, even months postpartum, having some relief was a welcome blessing.  But the thing that seems to be missing from the talk about summoning our village is how one sets boundaries so that your home and family doesn’t end up communal property. The question I’ve encountered many mothers asking themselves is: how do they ask for the support they need from their family and loved ones without sacrificing sole rights over their body, their home, or their bonding time with their kids. What makes this dilemma universal is that it not only applies to the early postpartum periods but continues on through motherhood at all ages and stages.

Mothers’ experiences of being “touched out” have been written about extensively. As a new mom your sense of ownership over your body seems to disappear almost immediately. You no longer call the shots. Even your bathroom visits need to be timed accordingly so as not to interrupt a feed or nap or whatever the kid needs at the very same moment you REALLY need to pee. Then kids start crawling, walking, running, climbing and inevitably falling, getting scared or hurt, regressing with sleep. That’s when we moms become the go-to hugger, kisser, head-stroker, foot rubber, climber-on-er; our kids often feel like they have unlimited access to our bodies to touch, squeeze, rub, poke, lick, bite, wipe dirty hands and noses or anything else that they please when they please.

So now after a day of cluster feeding or tending to a clingy toddler or angry preschooler, enters your beloved mother with every intention of being helpful. Many of us have been here before: we so desperately want her help yet her presence feels intrusive and her advice feels overwhelmingly judgmental. Why is this? Several reasons. One, motherhood inevitably evokes unresolved conflicts, resentments and insecurities about our own relationships with our moms. The same is true for our mothers, when they become grandmothers they may unconsciously attempt to repair the things they feel they didn’t get right with us through our mothering. For example, research on sleep training and self-soothing not as robust 35 years ago, so grandma might feel herself compelled to guilt her daughter about letting her 8 month-old cry-it-out gradually. Meanwhile, grandma let her babies cry-it-out at 3 months because she was advised to do so by her family. Mother and daughter then get stuck in a guilt-passing hot potato, leaving new mom feeling defeated and unsure of her decisions and resenting her mother for inflicting additional emotional burden rather than being supportive. More often than not, the relational mother-daughter dynamics outside of our awareness are contributing to the ambivalent or negative feelings we experience.

Major parenting decisions having to do with education, discipline, enrichment, or even whether to seek supportive services tend to provoke unsolicited interference from our parents and close relatives. Another reason for the confusing experience of simultaneously wanting our mom and wishing we could move as far away from her as possible, is just how much guilt our mothers, and other significant mother figures, are capable of inducing in us. No matter how well you might be doing in the parenting department, when our mother, favorite aunt, or mother-in-law has a suggestion, comment, or critique it can be maddening. A reason this might feel painful to metabolize is that regardless of their intention, these gestures can trigger intense insecurity about not being enough in some way. The thing that mothers struggle with most, guilt, over you-name-it comes right up to the surface when someone who doesn’t live your motherhood experiences tells you that you can do it differently.

The tricky part with this becomes navigating the dialogue with the important people in your life so that there is a mutual understanding and respect. Finding a way to express how much you value their input and presence, and yet, asking them to be mindful of making their input constructive by following your lead. A.k.a when you want their opinion you will ask them for it, but you love them and want them to stick around! And to be fair, we moms owe it to ourselves to become familiar with our emotional triggers so we don’t end up rejecting help or good advice because we’re feeling defensive or insecure. If we know what makes us tick, it becomes easier to have an open discussion with our family and friends about what we want to hear and what we don’t.

The belief that there is a trade-off between accepting help or support and forfeiting our wishes and needs can be damaging not only to our self-esteem and relationships but also takes away from our ability to be present with our kids. Some of my patients have shared with me that their mothers or mother-in-laws plan to move in for the first month or two after their baby is born and they refuse to say no because it will cause conflict. There are just too many things wrong with this mentality to fit in one paper but the glaring one here is the misconception that once the village comes, it stays. In my experience, ruffling a few feathers while negotiating the new way of life as both a daughter/daughter-in-law and a mother is worth it. Not only will ignoring your needs in the service of accepting help make that help less valuable to you, but it will likely create power struggles, and feelings of helplessness and neglect.

Most of the time, our parents and loved ones are just doing what they think or feel is helpful; they have no clue what we are thinking or feeling unless we reflect on it and share. Their intention is usually not to take over or tell us what to do but it can be easily misinterpreted leaving a lot of pain and resentment. If their intentions are in fact to be controlling, then the boundaries need to be set in stone and unwaveringly consistent. In reality, saying and owning what we want and need from our village to support our motherhood journey is the best boundary setting strategy there is.