The question of whether to become a parent can be hard for those of us with creative dreams.
From a young age, I knew I wanted to be a writer. And I was afraid for a long time that if I had a baby, I would never have the time or momentum to keep writing. I kept a list in the “notes” app on my phone of authors I respect and admire who never had children, like Elizabeth Gilbert, Ann Patchett, Mary Oliver, Jack Gilbert, and Emily Dickinson.
When I chose the topic for my first book—historical fiction based on the life of Anne of Green Gables author Lucy Maud Montgomery—part of what sparked my interest was Maud’s difficult relationship with her oldest son. In retrospect, I may have been looking to talk myself out of motherhood by exploring some of my deepest fears.
I rewrote the scenes of Maud mothering her boys more than any others in the book. I struggled to capture how she felt about her sons. Later events, especially involving her oldest son, seemed to perpetually disappoint her. It wasn’t until I became a mother myself that I could see the tenderness and compassion that fueled even Maud’s disappointment.
I’m not sure how motherhood will impact my creative ambitions. During the first few months after my daughter arrived, creativity took a back seat. After that, I felt motivated to write—about motherhood. More specifically, I felt motivated to write about the many-years-long process that took me to motherhood.
Is this temporary or a more permanent shift? Will being a mother limit my ability to focus on writing? Make my writing less respected?
Melissa Hogenboom writes compellingly in her book The Motherhood Complex about her reluctance to tell others—men in particular—about the subject of her book. “I didn’t want to be seen as ‘yet another mother’ writing a motherhood book, precisely because I didn’t want motherhood to be my defining characteristic,” she writes.
Like Melissa, I’m determined to put that fear on a shelf. Motherhood doesn’t need to define me to be worth writing about.
Parenthood is one of the few subjects close to the heart of all human beings. We all came from a parent, after all. Can we ever have too many perspectives on it?
It is hard to imagine that many women do not share your concerns and ask themselves privately the same questions. The answers will be different for different people, but simply validating that others share the same questions and concerns will be comforting. I asked myself the same questions 44 years ago, privately because I might otherwise be looked upon with raised eyebrows. But only after coming to grips with a missed period that turned out not to be pregnancy, which at first created extreme emotional panic, did the subsequent disappointment that I was in fact not pregnant make me decide to go for it. I think you, in particular, will agree I made the right decision!