the gratitude project: in appreciation of online mothers

i had no idea how much i appreciate the support for mothering (the pro-natal sentiment, my thesis advisor would say) that exists on the boards i frequent, mama-drama and amity mama. today i had a chance to see how wonderful those online mamas are--and why.

today i started what will be a once a week ritual until i defend my thesis--which has been *almost done* for some time. every friday, when latt is off work and able to be home with rowan, i'll drive in to the university, where i've spent so very much time in the last four years, and where i've always felt so very at home. friday will be the day i work, uninterrupted for requests for oranges to be peeled, stories to be read, and glitter glueing to be supervised. today i worked for about five hours and got quite a lot done. (i'm really almost done with my thesis now, and am just running some analyses of data i gathered and entered from about 2,000 attachment parenting mothers about six years ago. the printers at school never run out of ink, and as i already mentioned, no one there needs my help tying their shoes or needs help wiping. or makes such a mess with that atrocious moon sand that i need to take an hour long break in order to clean it up properly.)

at any rate, i walked into that building today confident, ready to work, and excited to see professors and fellow scholars that i haven't seen since finishing up the classes needed for my master's degree last august. and i walked in glowingly, bloomingly, pregnant. obviously pregnant. that was the only difference from the last time i walked in, last fall.

i set to work alone and it wasn't until the printer needed more paper that i took the opportunity to go up to the sociology department and say hello to the faculty and staff while i got another ream.

the oddest thing happened when i got up there. no one mentioned my being obviously pregnant. i am far past the awkward stage of "is she with child, or just putting on weight? maybe i shouldn't say anything! what if i'm wrong?" instead, i appear to have a basketball under my shirt and haven't gained anywhere else. i spoke with two secretaries, the department chair--not a glimmer of recognition that i was gestating. i stopped in to say hello to the graduate student director--and when she asked how the thesis was coming and i said i definitely planned to get it done before the baby arrived, she oh-so-innocently asked, "oh, are you expecting?"

it was as if i had a grotesque growth on my face, and everyone was far too polite to mention it, lest my feelings be hurt. they pretended, instead, that everything was business as usual. as if my round belly was an embarrassment, or a handicap.

i couldn't help but feel this was the perfect metaphor for the general anti-mothering sentiment i experienced while i attended classes in sociology. when i spoke passionately about the importance of mothering and breastfeeding and in-arms care, and talked of my research on a group of women who chose intensive mothering, the cool smiles and amused looks baffled me. and when i went further, when i decried any so-called feminism that denied or demeaned women's right to choose mothering as an empowering, joyful act and instead defined that choice as oppressive, i was always confused as to why there was such an outcry of negative feedback from the women professors and even my fellow students.

but this helped bring it all into perspective. they did see motherhood as a handicap and an anachronism, and must have thought it strange when i spoke of it as a revolutionary, creative act. and here i was, with its mark upon me as clear as day, and all they could do was pretend i was still "normal". as if to call attention to my state would shame me.

thank you, mothers. thank you for asking for belly pics, for doting on me and every pregnant woman in our midst. thank you for creating an environment where gestation is considered a state of grace, a blessing. thank you for noticing that i am with child, and for lifting *us*, me and this little creature, up, as a miracle.