Mothering Solo
Topic: Essays

I was just 23 when I became a mother. I had just spent 9 months suffering through what must have been the world?s loneliest pregnancy and I found myself facing the daunting and arduous task of raising my daughter alone. I remember a friend told me, ?You?re going to have to find ways to love it,? adding ?and it won?t be easy.?

With her advice ringing in my ears I sat down and started an essay with the same title as this one. I was ready to explore all the positive things about being a single mom. Unfortunately, I was a young student, extremely politicized and what I wrote had more to do with the politics of single parenting, societal judgment and an evil plot to paralyze the feminist movement. I guess I was still smarting from the shame of finding myself alone with a baby, something I swore wouldn?t happen to me, and angry that my daughter?s father had abandoned us.

It?s laughable to me now to think I could presume to know what was to come, that I could anticipate the interesting, surprising, often difficult yet immensely rewarding path my daughter and I have found ourselves on. She?s nine, I?m older and wiser, and it?s obvious to me now that my search for things to love about mothering solo is something that can only be commented upon in hindsight.

The search happened without my even knowing it and I was so busy feeding off it in the process that it was simply impossible for me to consciously notice what was going on. That?s the thing about children?once they come, you?re sort of thrown together and you have to hit the ground running. Especially after the bliss of that first year, the pace is fast and it requires every ounce of energy and concentration you?ve got just to make it to bedtime. Ah, blessed bedtime, a sacrament to even us non-religious parents. The time of night reserved especially for you, time you can do manage how you please, and for me, that meant pursuing activities that kept a part of me connected to the intellect.

I was lucky. I figured out early that the best way I can take care of her is to take care of me. I was already attending classes at a local community college when I learned I was pregnant, and afterward, it seemed even more important as I read article after article on how the mother?s education directly translates to future success and happiness for the child. I was determined to do whatever I could to counter any negative ramifications of life without a father.

While going to school became a financial pursuit, it also had a rather pleasant side effect?it fed my mind. I had no idea how important this would be. I think parents in general, especially of very young children, can easily find themselves trapped in a cycle of isolation, with the only exchange of stimuli being between parent and child, or TV?s passive stimulus. Neither of those are going to feed your mind for very long. Sure, it?s fascinating when you?re five year old comes to you and asks, ?How come birds can fly but I can?t?? It makes you think for a minute, and wonder at the magical perspective of the young, but it isn?t likely to sustain the intellect. Doing that means getting out around other adults, preferably those who share some sort of common interest. All you need is a couple of hours a week. You?d be amazed at the payoff in energy from adding this, yet another obligation, to your list. It wasn?t difficult for me to do it; I had an excellent support system involving family and numerous dedicated friends with ?baby-itus?.

One of the bonuses of single parenting is that there aren?t the games involved that some couples find themselves playing. My daughter isn?t a pawn and there are no arguments or judgments on my mothering style, and I?ve been free to practice a method of parenting that is stable yet just-this-side or indulgent. The flip side of that coin is that I alone take the blame for the mistakes. But, you learn to forgive yourself and swear to try anew, you inevitably make progress and you come to realize that 80% of parents are just doing the best they can, just like you. I?ve been able to develop a pretty deep connection with my daughter over this mistakes issue, and she seems to appreciate that I?m willing to acknowledge to her when I?ve been wrong. She?s a pretty confident kid, confident enough to correct me and challenge me when she feels like I?m not doing her justice. I listen to her and consider what she says because I know I?ve always had a subconscious current of truth running through me, some part of myself that I inevitably trust to know what is right and wrong, and I assume she does too. That doesn?t mean she doesn?t occasionally try to con me, she does, but that same internal current of truth can usually recognize that and I?ll launch into my one of my comical routines that indicate I?ll joke it to the ground until she walks away, eyes rolling, but accepting my ?no?.

I try to keep in mind that the essence of parenting, when you get right down to it, is modeling a life, and every life has it?s ups and downs, it?s milestone moments, it?s emotionality, it?s pitfalls and holes. The best you can hope to do is show them how to handle, as gracefully as you can, with acceptance, life as it comes. Mistakes will be made, there is no such thing as a perfect parent, but even mistakes are a chance to teach a valuable life lesson about integrity.

My daughter is, at nine years of age, a socially well-adjusted child, sensitive to others feelings and always dismayed when others aren?t. My measure of success was once perfection. My mind was focused on what I was going to avoid doing. My mantra when I started this endeavor was ?do it different?, meaning different from the miserable, violent, unstable childhood I experienced. I have done it different, and it?s made the experience of mothering so much more rewarding than I?m sure it was in my parent?s experience. Today, the measure of my success is, ?Is she happier than I was?? The answer, unmistakably, is yes.

Fall 2003