Article written by Claire Stroebel.
I came to Australia on a plane. I wasn't too pleased about the idea, I was only four at the time. But we left a lot of our family behind in search of a better life and greater opportunities. I would never have met the father of my child if we had stayed where we were, but I suspect that despite that I still would have flourished for staying where most of my family was. It wasn't about location, but more about who I had around me, or who I would choose to have around me.
Not everyone is as blessed as I am. They don't have blood relatives who love and support them. Instead, they make their own families. They stay friends with people who they come to know as brothers and sisters. Some people marry into families or friendship groups. Some people have more than one partner at a time. It doesn't matter. The point is, family isn't always blood, but it doesn't mean that they love you any less.
Which gets me thinking. Why then, with so many people in our lives who love us as we are, are we still making one parent struggle through parenthood, mostly women? Even two people isn't enough most of the time. Raising children is hard. Harder than you anticipate, even if you anticipate it being hard. And when you're pregnant, there's always some judgmental old woman who tells you how difficult it's going to be, or how her labour was three weeks long. But she has a point, even if it isn't entirely the right message. It is a massive challenge, and we force millions of people to undergo it without so much as a smile and a wave. When you have a baby, people come over, drop off the usual gifts and pleasantries, want you to disturb the baby's sleep for a cuddle, and then balk when you ask if they can take a moment out of their childless life to watch the kid while you take that long-awaited sh*t. And that's it. Once they realise that their visit isn't all about making them feel good, they're gone, and you don't see them for months.
Now obviously, that's not everyone. A lot of people are sweet to you when you take your adorable newborn to the shops. Your family pays more attention to you. But when it comes to raising a child, no one wants to know you. Obviously, your own parents will gush at how amazing this child is, despite only being able to poop and scream, but when it comes to the nitty gritty, when you need help, a lot of people are nowhere to be seen. Sometimes it's because they're own lives are hectic, or they haven't had their vaccinations yet, but all too often I hear how women struggle with their newborn, despite having a lot of family. And it's not just the child, there's post-natal depression, hernias, haemorrhoids, and a myriad of other health problems to deal with. Plus, men struggle too. They have someone who they love, who's hurting, and who can't turn to anyone because no one is around. Not to mention that it's stressful trying to juggle work, a baby, a struggling partner, and chores. Sure, you laugh, women still do most of the chores in the home, but there are plenty of good dads out there, silent because it's not manly to say anything.
I'm drifting a bit here. I think I have clearly made my point. There's not enough support. But there used to be. People would come together to raise kids. We laugh at polygamous families, but they've got something right. Everyone pitches in what they can to make sure every child is looked after. Often the adults in those families can look after a lot of kids at once, because they know that they have backup at the end of the day. I'm luckier than most, but I've had times where I'm one-on-one with my child and I am exhausted, and I have to do it the next day, and the next, because there simply isn't anyone else. I can't ask that my family drop their previous engagements for every time I want to have a whinge, but it's hard to make mum-friends when you're a parent, and I just wish that there was more support. I won't go into what the government should be providing, that's a whole other article, but if we want the next generation to be well-rounded and happy, society needs to make changes. We need to be more accepting of breastfeeding in public. We need to be there when our friends have kids. We need to make it okay to ask for help. You may not want kids, or like kids for that matter, but you were one once, and you needed someone to look after you. Whatever your opinion, kids are important, and sometimes, your needs aren't.
We need a village to raise kids, and not just for the benefit of the children, but for the wider community. Children without siblings will find siblings in friends. Elderly people who regularly interact with children are proven to be healthier mentally – it literally keeps them young. Young adults and teenagers learn how to care for someone else, in a time where much of their focus is on their inner turmoil. Play-time with kids, even when they're not your own, is good for you too. And the parents themselves will love you forever if you come over to see their baby, do some dishes, and give them a chance to have a shower. It creates stronger bonds and doing something nice for someone does a lot for your self-esteem.
Like I said before, I've been lucky. I have a loving family who makes a lot of time for me, my partner and my child. And while I still have hard times, they've been made easier knowing that I have backup coming at some point. I've not always found it easy to make more of those connections though, so I urge you to be more active in making that village. There's a small family unit out there waiting to be very thankful.
Comments