“Text or call me only if someone is bleeding profusely or in the hospital,” I told my husband and kids as I kissed them goodbye.
My eldest thought I was joking, but I wasn’t. This rule was inspired after receiving texts from the three of them. Simultaneously. As if they had conspired, and counted down from mission control together, “Three, two, one… SEND!”
One required my immediate attention. The second needed assistance, so he could “help me.” And the third said, “Hi!” (In fairness, this is our family’s shorthand indicating we’d like a call.)
Because of the “Koch men hat-trick texting” incident, I had conceived the texting/phone rule. I was leaving my family for a week-long getaway. A mental-health retreat. A “Mama’s walkabout.” And Mama had left the building.
Having struggled with infertility for almost a decade, finally having a child felt like a miracle. When we were lucky enough to have a second, I felt like I had won the lottery. I happily left my job to stay at home. So why was I, 18 years later, running as fast as I could to get away from my family?
I read that 28% of stay-at-home moms experience depression compared to 17% of working mothers. It’s problematic that the data is from 10 years ago. Likely, the number of stay-at-home moms experiencing depression has increased during the pandemic as more responsibilities and pressures have fallen upon them.
I was never diagnosed with depression, but like most stay-at-home moms, I struggled with my mom role early on. After quitting my job to stay at home with my first son, it wasn’t long before I sensed a loss of identity and craved intellectual stimulation and interactions outside of my husband and his colleagues. I went back to university teaching part-time. When my second son was diagnosed with two different medical conditions, I again happily threw myself into stay-at-home mom mode as well as my new caregiver role.
A job harder than anything I had ever done before, without pay or recognition, being a stay-at-home mom also came with unknown pressures I hadn’t anticipated. I felt I needed to be the perfect wife, the perfect mom, have the perfect kids, and become an expert de facto medical professional. Consequently, I experienced burnout quickly. But moms and caregivers don’t get breaks. Ever.
Additionally, stay-at-home moms may be surrounded by people who love them, but it is easy to feel isolated and insignificant. Despite having advanced degrees and a former successful career, I would occasionally encounter awkward conversations at social events at my husband’s work. If someone knows you’re a stay-at-home mom, it’s like you’re from an alien planet. And because I had a child with medical disabilities, it was also hard to connect with other moms.
So how does one cope? Women are told they should make time for “self-care” — that it makes them better mothers. Like putting on your oxygen mask first before placing it on your child.
Except when your role in a family is so essential, “me-time” is impossible. For a short while, I did work out at 5:30 a.m. It didn’t last long. “Me-time” that early wasn’t self-care.
So here I am, writing from an undisclosed location (my kids and mom don’t know where I am). I’m on a lake in Maine, listening to the lapping of the water and the music of loons. I’ve had only two days of sun; the rest have been rainy. It’s been glorious.
I’ve had time to master the perfect cup of French press coffee topped with hand-whipped oat milk creamer. I’ve contemplated how early is too early to drink red wine, only to learn that I prefer it at dinner time and can only manage one glass at most. I’ve learned I have no idea how to cook for one person. Also, despite my best efforts, I can’t sleep through the night or sleep in. (Old habits die hard.) I’ve abandoned my regular exercise routine and attempted yoga. I’ve donned my bikini on two sunny days, despite temps in the 60s. And I’m certain this week has been equal to years of therapy. I have breathed.
I must acknowledge, though it’s taken 18 years for me to take this break, I’m only able to do this because I’m privileged and have a phenomenal support system. Most moms can’t afford a getaway, let alone have people who can fill their shoes.
Women struggling with stay-at-home mom depression are almost always forced to battle a darkness alone. Telling them to take “me-time” is farcical. We must provide them with the appropriate support and resources, whether that be access to healthcare (including mental health coverage), free childcare, or even government-sponsored mental health retreats. Good and healthy mothers do make for better parents.
And I have indeed texted and called my family. And no, I wasn’t bleeding.
Hilary Koch lives in Waterville. She can be reached at: hilarykoch@pm.me
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