reclaiming wife

Marriage

Three.

baby (1)

One week ago David and I joyfully welcomed a baby boy into the world. The birth process had complications, but we’re all home now, healing and healthy. More than anything, we’re feeling over-the-moon happy to have all three of us together.

At some point, I hope to have some words to wrap around the experiences of the last nine months: a hard pregnancy, a complicated but wonderful birth, traumatic first hours, the joy of new motherhood, and the way marriage has kept me afloat through all of it. Till then, I’ll say that motherhood changes everything (but you’ve heard about that part) and also nothing. We’re still here. Showering and reading the New York Times, just blearily and with more tiny cuddles.

I’ll leave you in the talented and capable hands of Maddie and the team. For now I’m going to spend time with my two guys: one big, one very small.

xo

Meg (and crew)

I know Jessica Valenti, one of our generation’s most prominent feminists, in an online sort of way. She read APW when she was planning her wedding, we chat on Twitter often, I read her books. So when she linked to her newest book I announced my pregnancy, I asked for a review copy, stat. What follows are my thoughts after reading the book. It’s less a formal review, and more a personal essay (as I do) on a book I think you should go buy. What can I say? I had to stick this in before the end of Kids/No Kids week. It’s also possible that Jessica will show up in the comments, so keep an eye out. 

Why Have Kids Valenti

The moment I got pregnant, my personal life turned into a parade of cheer. And I don’t mean that in the most positive way. I was sick, and stressed, and freaked out, and suddenly every other question (often from total strangers) was, “Are you so excited?” “Are you the happiest you’ve ever been?” And I wasn’t, frankly. I was overwhelmed, and the constant messaging that if I wasn’t thrillingly happy, I was broken, was really only making the situation worse. (Side note: this does, actually, seem to improve. In my Very Pregnant third trimester state, people are simply very, very kind to me.)

I was discussing with a friend the pressure I feel, as a pregnant woman, to live in a state of constant bliss, and I was pointed towards the recent New York Times article “America the Anxious.” The piece is written by a Brit, and discusses the American obsession with the pursuit of happiness. Author Ruth Whippaman posits that this is a very American cultural trend, and for the British, “It’s not that we don’t want to be happy, it just seems somehow embarrassing to discuss it, and demeaning to chase it, like calling someone moments after a first date to ask them if they like you.” She comments on the difference between American and British Facebook postings: “Americans post links to inspirational stories, and parenting blogs packed with life lessons. (British parenting blogs tend to be packed with despair and feces.)” Right? So I wasn’t happy all the time. Fine. Normal, probably, given the strain of pregnancy. Excellent. I was going to stop being bullied into feeling happy when I wasn’t.

It’s this happiness expectation that is at the core of Jessica Valenti‘s new book Why Have Kids? The book is a well-researched and thoughtfully articulated feminist discussion of where, exactly, our expectations for parenting went off track. How our expectations of having kids become so exalted that real life could never fully live up?

I like a sharply written and argued book about parenting. I think the idea that we can only speak in whispered tones about how much we love every parenting choice is awful. I want as vigorous a debate around motherhood as I expect around any other major part of my life, and I don’t want that debate to be given the condescending label of “mommy wars.” This is a book that you may spend entire chapters disagreeing with—which I love. Why Have Kids? will join Anne Lamott’s Operating Instructions as the parenting book I give to every new mother in my life.

What Valenti explores in these pages, is the crux of what we’ve been discussing all week. How do we separate the cultural fiction and the total hyperbole that has sprung up around our current cult of motherhood, from reality? If American parents are increasingly unhappy, as studies show, is it possible that we’ve simply set our expectations of childrearing to unrealistic levels? Continue reading Jessica Valenti’s ‘Why Have Kids?’

Egalitarian Pregnancies

For years, as we’ve talked about egalitarian partnerships and marriages, I’ve wondered if there was a deep, dark secret that no one wanted to mention.

Pregnancy.

I mean, let’s be real: in mixed-gender partnerships, there is only one of you that even has a possibility of knocked up. It’s not like you can talk it over and decide that your husband is really going to be way better at pregnancy, so that’s going to be his job. (And even though I can’t personally speak to same gender partnerships, it’s still usually just one of you having a baby at a time.)

All this time, my secret worry was this: after all of the years of chore balancing, feminism, and building a partnership where we took on tasks and roles based on what we were good at, not based on cultural assumptions… if you get pregnant, isn’t that all over, short term? The dirty secret is that biology isn’t egalitarian, right?

Wrong.

Well, I mean, right that David can’t get knocked up. I did, in fact, read the biology textbooks correctly on that point. But I was dead wrong that pregnancy couldn’t be egalitarian. It turns out that the existence of egalitarian pregnancy was the real deep, dark, never-discussed secret. Continue reading Pregnant While Feminist

I recently came across a polaroid from our wedding. It was taken on expired film, so it has the hazy glow of the memory of a warm summer’s day. It was one of the last shots taken of the party, and David and I are walking through the crowd of onlookers, being sent off into married life. My dress swirling around my ankles, my bouquet is tightly clutched in my hand, and I’m smiling. David is holding my hand, and doing a little half wave.

I remember when I saw the polaroid right after the wedding. Because of its faded haze, it looked like a memory from long ago. And while I was still basking in the glow of that intense, imperfect day, I thought to myself, “Someday, this is probably how our wedding will feel.” And now, just three years later, that picture looks exactly like my internal vision of our wedding. Like a hazy glow, a memory of warmth, held close to our hearts.

But what struck me about that polaroid when I picked it up last week is the fact that, at that second, we were walking into our marriage. As a couple that had been together five years, I knew that something intense had happened that day, but I wasn’t convinced that our marriage was different than the foundation of our relationship that we’d laid, year upon year.

Last week, when we were having a conversation about wedding guests, and the need (or not) to have people in attendance that fully supported your marriage, I said that I wanted to know that the community that had surrounded me at my wedding backed my marriage to the hilt. And someone responded that they didn’t know about that, but they always backed their friends to the hilt. While I totally understood that sentiment (David and I have had enough friends divorce that we’ve done things like hand them large sums of cash to see them through), I realized that wasn’t what I needed. Continue reading Three Years Ago Today…

Moodeous Photography Denver

About a month or so ago, I took to wandering around the house saying, “Thank god we got married before I got knocked up,” and then cracking up and adding, “But totally not like that.” Which is to say, it turns out I was glad we got married first, simply because all of those painful emotional lessons that I learned during wedding planning are getting put to very good use for the second time around. (Least you get offended, I’m pretty sure this would work in the other order too, and I could have been wandering around saying “Thank god I got knocked up before we got married,” but I’ll leave that to those wiser than me to confirm or deny. Who wants to write a post on what you learn doing it in the other order?) But the moral of the story is, none of it was wasted.

Last week, we ran a post about how wedding planning was like project management, and @Kathleenincanrah (who I met on book tour, and who wrote this post on women and finance) piped up on Twitter to say, “Sort of, but sort of not.” Her response was that, “The heavy (and important) work is the emotional stuff. The to-do lists are false processes to do the real work.” And I think for me that was mostly accurate. Half of our wedding planning was project management (something we were blessedly good at, after being a former theatrical producing team) and half of our wedding planning was emotional work (which we felt like a total disaster at, doesn’t everyone, always?). The project management half of wedding planning didn’t end up being a life lesson. The emotional work, however, is still paying dividends. Or rather, is suddenly paying huge dividends again.

Of course I’m writing this for those of you who have been up half the night, at any point in the last few months, sobbing over something vaguely related to wedding planning. Because you and me both sister. Eye to eye: it’s worth it.

As I have been making my way through pregnancy (I want to feed our Hallmark-y images of pregnancy by saying I’ve been drifting through it, but instead I’ve been grinding through it and surviving it, so you’ll have to turn elsewhere for more diaphanous images) issues keep coming up, and the solutions feel like muscle memory. As anyone who’s ever been vaguely athletic knows, it’s painfully hard to build up a muscle the first time; it’s much easier to tone it up the second time around. Emotional muscles work much the same way. Once you’ve tuned up your emotional response to something, figuring out how to do it again, even after a lengthy pause, is much easier (if not exactly painless).

So, for those of you in the trenches of wedding planning, and for those getting ready to go for another round (be that in baby acquiring, or other major life decisions) here are the wedding planning lessons that are proving to be priceless in my current state (for your reference, here are the lessons as recorded the first time around, in my own wedding graduate post):

It’s not your business what other people think of you. This gem came to me via Christina of Steady Happy (her amazing wedding graduate post is here). This ended up being my mantra during wedding planning, when I wasted way too much time worrying what other people were thinking of the way we were planning the thing, or what they might think about the wedding. First of all, it really did all work out in the end. Learning to stand up for the way we do things was the single biggest lesson of wedding planning. Second of all, honest to God? It’s not my business what other people think of me. Interestingly, this time around I get that. Sometimes I have to remind myself hard not to care about the widespread cultural conversation about what I should be doing, but on an individual level? We’re just doing our thing, and letting people think whatever they think.

It’s your job to present a clear plan to your loved ones, if you need them to follow your lead. Looking back, I realize that I made wedding planning more complicated than it needed to be by being too nice (I know, right?). That is to say, instead of politely telling people what was happening, I asked them how they felt about what was happening, or what they wished was happening, and then got myself in a total tangle doing things that I knew were dead wrong for me in an effort to make other people happy. (Hot tip: that almost always ends in disaster.) Now, if I know what we need, I do my best to guide friends and loved ones through it, kindly, but without apology. Continue reading Why Wedding Planning Is Worth It

Last week’s New York Times Modern Love column, by Jessica Bennett, executive editor of Tumblr, hit me right in the gut. The story was this: she and her boyfriend got engaged before she was quite ready, she called off the engagement almost immediately, though they stayed together. As the years went by she became an advocate for not getting hitched in the first place (she authored Newsweek’s 2010 cover story “The Case Against Marriage.”) And then her relationship broke up, and she reconsidered.

While I fully suggest reading the whole, and lovely, piece, here are some outtakes, which I think many of us will nod our heads over:

The story:

And yet the moment I saw that ring, I was terrified. I saw dirty dishes and suburbia, not lace-covered wedding gowns. Rather than thinking about the family we’d someday have, I saw the career I had hardly started as suddenly out of reach. The independence I had barely gained felt stifled. I couldn’t breathe.

I begged him to forgive me. I cried and pleaded. I promised I’d never leave him, and I meant it.

He was devastated, but he loved me too much to let go. So we came back to New York, to our tiny apartment, and tried to move on. We held each other — that night, and every night after. I cried and stroked his hair. I said I was sorry. I told him I loved him. We slowly moved forward.

There were plenty of times over the next six years that I wished I had said yes. We could have had a long engagement, I told myself. In a few years, I would have been ready.

But as time went on, as our couple friends broke up, as those who were the first to marry became the first to get divorced, I was glad we hadn’t done it.

We were happy living as partners, without the pressure of “till death do us part.” We were free of all the expectations of matrimonial bliss that make so many couples fall apart.

Her original conclusion:

A few data searches, some interviews and a pitch to an editor later, we were issuing a manifesto of our own. “I Don’t,” we would proclaim a few months later in a 2010 cover line in Newsweek: “The Case Against Marriage.”

Our argument took romance out of the equation. As we explained it, Americans were already waiting longer to marry, and fewer than ever believed in the “sanctity” of marriage. As urban working women in our 20s, we no longer needed marriage to survive — at least not financially. We weren’t religious, so we didn’t believe that unmarried cohabitation or even child-rearing was an issue.

But we were also cynical. As children of the divorce generation, we had watched cheating scandals proliferate in the news. We had given up on fairy tales, and we didn’t know how anybody could see the institution of marriage as anything but a farce. It was “broken,” one sociologist told me. So, what was the point?

The Finale:

When we got back to New York, he packed up his stuff, quit his job, paid a final month’s rent and moved back to his hometown, 2,000 miles away.

In the end, we had no shared bank account or property. We didn’t have to go through a trial separation or mandatory counseling. We had spent seven years living in a 600-square-foot New York City apartment, inseparable and intertwined. Yet in the end, the relationship ended in one night. No discussion required.

As I tried to make sense of it all, I had a glimpse into why that sheet of paper had been so important to him. Sure, it may well be a jaded tradition, an antiquated ritual. But it’s also a contract.

When he was packing his stuff, I remembered a conversation my Newsweek co-author had had with her mother about our article. “I’ll tell you why you need marriage,” she told her. “Because it makes it harder for the other person to leave.”

At the time, we snickered at her words. Legally requiring someone to stick around? It was desperate, pathetic.

But would it have worked? I’ll never know. What I have learned is this: While “happily ever after” may indeed be a farce, there’s something to be said for uttering “I do.”

Reading this article brought up complicated feelings for me. First, as Jessica Bennett nails in her eloquent change of heart, we don’t all need to be married. Marriage is far from a perfect institution, and it’s not right for every couple. The pressure for every couple to get married, and for marriage to validate all our relationships is, of course, absurd. Relationships are made valid by love and commitment, not by a ceremony, or a piece of paper that not everyone is legally allowed to get.

But it also brought me around to the question of our age group’s relationship with marriage. Continue reading BackTalk: Why Do We Marry?