The other day I was in one of my favourite cafes, and
discovered the ear-splitting screamer was back.
On his second painful (quite literally, it hurt my ears) squeal, when I
physically jumped in pain (and he was a good three or so metres away) I saw his
mother had noticed my cringe. Since the
first screech, I had been keeping a surreptitious eye on the mother and her
friend. I noticed that the mother spent
a lot of time chastising the child, pulling him onto her lap to tell him to
stop screaming (you can just hear the child thinking “yes, it worked!”), and
chasing after him. Her friend sat alone
at the table, with her little boy of the same age chomping happily and quietly through
a muffin. I’ve been that friend – not
with a hungry little boy of course – but I’ve been that friend who sits trying
not to look fed up, unable to have any adult conversation with the mother,
wondering why I bothered. We all have.
As infertile women, we find this kind of situation intensely
isolating. We’re reminded of what we
don’t have, and we find it painful and isolating to spend the entire meeting
talking about the child. Or we see a
group of women with their kids out at a playground or a cafe (preferably one
with a kids’ playground, or at least with toys and books) , and we feel
completely left out of the club.
But recently, I realised that I’m not sure how deeply I have
ever considered how it might feel to be one of the mothers in the club. Kait on Pictures & Print wrote an
honest and thoughtful post about the isolating nature of parenthood. I found it fascinating to see this from the
other side. That parents are just as
frustrated with the lack of adult company, the fact that real connections –
when there is a toddler in tow – are difficult to make, that their precious
time with a friend seems to be squandered.
We sit there judging ourselves harshly, feeling isolated, feeling less than. But so do the parents – or some of them at
least - it seems. And so I’m going to try
to be more understanding in the future.
(Not that I’m likely to be around too many toddlers – well, not until the
next generation starts reproducing.)
I so recognize what you describe here. I have friends who really want to meet but it's difficult having the calm grown-up conversations with a child there. And I never know when to call home so more often I wait for them to call to be sure they really have time (or the baby/toddler) is napping. So yeah, I guess having a child can be isolating as well, just in a different way.
ReplyDeleteI think the thing is that both groups can have that connection if they want, we just have to do some compromising. It may be too painful to do for people on our side and too challenging to do for people on the other side. I find that most of my FWKs (friends with kids) either dealt with some form of infertility or their kids are past the toddler stage where the child is needing constant attention and the parent can sometimes be just an adult, not always a parent.
ReplyDeleteIf you feel this kind of situation is isolating for YOU... think about the mother!!! You have to go through this with one person, maybe two, but the mother can have an adult conversation with NO ONE, EVER (until the child goes to school that is!).
ReplyDeleteHaving an asperger's two-year old child, I am in that situation. And on top of that, she doesn't sleep at night.
Since I've had her, I've learnt never to judge another mother, believe me (I am not implying that you do, of course).