Honest Motherhood with Libby Ward

What makes a good mom? Is it adhering to the perfectly packaged image of a shiny, happy woman cooking lavish meals with her 2.5 children, always cleaning, never complaining, and never NOT grateful, doting, and happy? No – but that doesn’t mean that the expectations are any more attainable. Any choice a mom makes is immediately subject to scrutiny or ridicule. Anything she does is under a microscope. She can’t miss a beat. She can’t wonder what her life might have been if she wasn’t a mother. And she DEFINITELY can’t do anything for herself.

Today, Nora talks with Libby Ward, the author of the brand new book Honest Motherhood: on Losing My Mind and Finding Myself.

Get a copy of Libby’s new book HERE.

Transcripts may not appear in their final version and are subject to change.

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Hi.

Hi.

Hi there. Hi. Hi.

Hey, Nora.

I’m Nora McInerny, and this is Thanks For Asking, a call-in show about what matters to you.

What is a good mom? Before I had kids, I had a lot of ideas about what a good mom was. I thought my mom was a good mom.

She made our childhood fun and magical. She worked jobs that I always thought were cool. She was up for adventure.

She was artistic. She let us explore what was interesting to us from fencing to volleyball, even if it wasn’t personally interesting to her. She sewed my sister and I matching dresses.

She made our Halloween costumes. She decorated and renovated our homes mostly by herself. I was not raised by a handy man.

I was raised by a handy woman. But the closer I got to motherhood, the more messages I received about what it meant to be a good mom. The messages were conflicting and they were confusing.

A good mom was good even before her baby arrived. She ate all of the right things. She went to the right classes to prepare for childbirth.

She had a birth plan. And the plan wasn’t just to give birth, but to probably give birth in a warm pool surrounded by candles with a perfect playlist. And absolutely, and this part is important, no drugs whatsoever.

A good mom would never let her kids have sugar or see a screen of any kind. Now, I became a mom in 2013 when girl bossing was not ironic and every woman I knew believed that she could and would have it all.

I read Lean In on my maternity leave and I thought, hell yeah, I cannot wait for these 12 weeks of partially paid maternity leave to end so I can get my unhealed body and psyche back to work and make some PowerPoints. And I’m not joking.

That’s how I felt.

I thought I will be a mom who nurses, who pumps gallons of breast milk for daycare, who eventually makes her baby food from scratch, just like I make all of our family meals, while climbing the corporate ladder and blasting through any possible glass

ceiling that comes between me and my professional goals. My body will bounce back and I will not miss a beat. I’m going to do it all, baby, and honestly, I did. I did for a while there.

I think in that first year of motherhood, I did, even though my husband had brain cancer. I didn’t miss a beat.

I made that first birthday cake from scratch, and I also did not let the baby have a bite of it because, doi, he could not have refined sugar on his first birthday. That would make me a bad mom.

I have now been a mom for over 13 years, and I very rarely felt like a good mom. I mean, I didn’t even let my kid have cake on his first birthday. The first time I cut his fingernails, I cut his finger, not his fingernails.

I did also let him have screens eventually, and now I think he’s had too much screen time, but I also think sometimes maybe it wasn’t enough because there were points in time where I refused to let him play certain video games that felt inappropriate

to me, but were also the games that all of his classmates were playing. So he was left out and that bothered him. So obviously what I’m saying is I’m not a good mom, OK?

I also now have four kids, which is four times more guilt, four times more doubt. I could talk for hours about all the ways that I’ve messed up, all of the mistakes I’ve made, but for now I will spare you.

Because today we are talking to Libby Ward, formerly known as Diary of an Honest Mom, about a more honest version of motherhood, one that doesn’t mean doing it all and being everything to everyone, even and maybe especially when that is your default

mode. Libby, you and I were talking a little bit about that moment right before you give birth, and I was so relieved to hear you say this, because I don’t know that I’ve heard another mother say this, which is on the drive to the hospital, I

thought, I shouldn’t do this. thought, I shouldn’t do this.

5:35

Motherhood Expectations Versus Reality

I wanna go do something. I wanna go see, should we see a movie instead? Like, why am I doing?

I don’t wanna go have a baby. I like, we’re checking in, I was like, uh, I don’t know, I don’t really know why I’m here. I guess to have a baby.

Um, but no big deal if not. Like, just that feeling of like, oh God, this is about to be real and maybe, uh, I should have done something else. Like, go to a movie.

Well, and also like, who let me get pregnant?

Like, who decided that I was a real adult who could handle raising another person and why was that allowed? And why am I only figuring out right now that maybe, um, maybe I’m not gonna get out for this?

Yeah, yeah. I remember thinking, I’m really quite young to be doing, I was 31. I was like, I don’t know if people here know that I’m old enough to have a baby.

Like, do they, do they, do they think so? And in the US., you know, to, to leave with your baby, there’s not a lot of, um, red hoops, red hoops, red fly. Oh, let’s go with red hoops to jump through.

One of the red hoops that I did not jump through was the nurses ask you to get your kid into the car seat. And it looked, all I’m going to say is it looked correct to me.

I saw the loops and I said, well, obviously legs and arms go through that, both together like a starfish.

And they just trust that you, they just trust that you know what you’re doing. Like, oh yeah, a person came out of you. So you just must know.

It’s your maternal instinct.

You must know. I think they probably assumed I would have looked at the directions, but I, jokes on them, I don’t read directions. They watch you do it, and then they go, no.

And they show you. And then they say, you’re free to go. And I just thought, oh, I can’t even get him into the car seat.

You’re letting me leave?

I shouldn’t be. I shouldn’t be free to go, actually. And I spent so much time, like I read about being a parent, but I would say I read a little bit too much about giving birth.

And then once the baby was there, I was like, oh, that part’s over now. And now I have to do this part. And you can read words, but they don’t mean anything till you actually have the baby there.

And then when my first born was two weeks old, she was hospitalized. It was very dramatic and very terrifying. I was like, she’s going to die.

And it’s my fault. I broke her arm. Her arm’s not working.

She’s going to die. I should be locked up. It’s all very bad news.

And I just remember multiple doctors coming in because apparently they all need to check each other’s work, being like, you know what? You know best. You’re her mother.

You have a mother’s instinct. I was like, I’m a 26 year old child who popped out a baby two weeks ago. That’s different.

That’s different than being a mom with maternal instinct. I don’t know. I don’t know anything.

Can you guys be in charge? Because I don’t know what’s happening. And I probably got us into this situation.

I really feel that.

I read, I did read quite a bit. And I feel like all of that information then once I actually had a baby, congealed in my mind, overrode any sense of any kind of instinct.

I remember calling the nurse line because my baby had slept through the night really early on. And so he hadn’t eaten. I thought, well, I just starved him.

So now he’s-

He’s dead. Oh, sorry. That’s where I go with it.

I mean, woke up.

Yeah. He woke up and ate, but I thought, well, he hasn’t eaten in so long, clearly. And the nurse was like, so they will wake up much like you.

They’ll wake up if they’re hungry. And he did eat. I was like, well, yeah, he ate, but then he didn’t for like, you know, eight hours before that.

And you’re supposed to feed them every two. I read that somewhere. So now what do we do?

And she’s like, you keep feeding him when he’s hungry. And I said, that feels wrong. Are we sure?

Are we sure? It’s like all of the information. I did not know how to think.

It’s kind of like, I don’t know if you experienced this, but because I now have Google Maps in my phone and then project it into my car, I don’t know where anything is.

Right. Right. Just because you just follow what Google says.

It doesn’t matter if there’s like Jumanji happening in front of you and like there’s like elephants crossing the road and whatever. It’s like, no, this says I’m going to go this way. Like, I don’t know which way to go.

So I’m just going to go this way. Yeah, and also it’s just like a lot of information that doesn’t mean anything until you do it.

Like with anything in life, you don’t really, you can like read a manual when you start a new job, but none of the words actually like mean a thing until it’s happening. And then you can read about all the things that could go wrong.

None of those things could go wrong. And then something else that you didn’t read about could go wrong. And so I’m not saying that we shouldn’t prepare, but also it’s just a lot to be like, let’s learn all these things.

And then also we’ll just pivot. We’ll just keep pivoting to the point that it’s like, how useful was it to read the information? Because life is just all pivoting now.

It’s a pivot that never ends, so really you’re simply spinning.

You’re simply doing ballet, whether or not you were prepared, or whether or not you enjoy it. You will keep spinning.

Right. And then everyone is like, you’re doing so good. You’re spinning and it’s great.

And you’re like, but I feel like I might die. And they’re like, but you’re doing so good. And you’re like, but I don’t think I’m well.

They’re like, oh, great job. You’re a superhero.

I can’t believe how good you are at this. You’re so amazing. You’re so amazing.

You’re doing amazing, mama. Oh my God. You’re so great.

Mama, you’re doing so great.

You can do anything. I actually can’t do everything. And I think that I might slap one of my children soon and I need help.

No, you’re so good. You have so many maternal instincts. You’re just doing so good.

Just don’t do that. Just think of how lucky you are. Okay.

I think it’s so interesting that most, I would say almost every mother that I speak to, when you ask her about, especially like those early days, like the overriding feeling is, I’m not good at this.

And again, every mother that I speak to is like, oh no, I never feel like I’m doing a great job.

But we all come to this experience with expectations, expectations of ourselves, expectations of the experience, and expectations of how we will perform this job that we were not trained to do, that we are told will be fully instinctual, and again,

comes with many, many, many conflicting employee manuals that will tell you different things. So before you had kids, what did you think was a good mom?

I actually need to pause because my door creepily just opened and I thought it was a ghost, but it’s actually my cat who now won’t leave me alone.

I heard, I heard.

Can we just like pause?

We heard that cat. We heard the cat sound. We’ll pause.

I didn’t.

Yep. Because I had my headphones so I didn’t hear her and I was just like, who’s touching my leg? If the cat is.

Wow. That’s never happened before. Never in my life in control.

Here we go, we’re back and-

It was first to herself, I have my life in control.

We’re back, and you’re asking me what I thought that a good mother was.

Yes, before you had children.

Before I had children, I thought a good mother was a mother who loved her children. I thought that love would be enough, first off. If I love my kids, I’ll probably figure it out and be good at it.

And that turned out to be true. I also, I was surrounded by churchy… How do I describe, how do I describe my circle of influence when I entered motherhood?

I was 25 and for my circle of friends, that was old. That was old for not having children yet. And everyone had at least three children.

And I was attending a small town church at the time where motherhood was the pinnacle of life. Like if you are a mom, that is like your ultimate calling. And self-sacrifice is the ultimate calling.

And just not really existing. But being in servitude to your children is, that’s what it is. And it’s like endless patience and joy and love and rainbows and sunshine.

And they make you so happy and fulfilled. And to be a good mom, you just have to do that and accept that. And so I, I worked and I knew I wanted to continue working.

I was never going to be a stay-at-home mom. Like I knew that I would mentally like perish if that were the case. So there was never a desire to like join the homeschooling.

Everything is about your children life.

But I did have this like deep sense of I am going to be selfless because I was raised with a mother who I perceived as selfish and who did things in her own interest and who put us through a lot of different moves and a lot of chaos and relational

chaos and trauma. And so I sort of entered adulthood and motherhood with this idea that I had not been prioritized by my mother. And I was sort of just like tagged along in this like chaotic life.

And that I would mother very intentionally and lovingly and selflessly because that’s what a mother does. And so then that paired with the circle of influence I had, which was motherhood should be everything.

And you will be fulfilled if you give everything to your children, your energy and your time and your whatever.

I was like set up to feel like not only would it feel great, but as long as I loved my kids enough, I could do the things and be a good mom. And so I thought that I was gonna be great.

And at first, like I was kind of great in like the very beginning. I was pretty good at it, but the rest of the story is difficult. And I then quickly was like, you’re a piece of garbage.

Oh, the inner monologue of, the helpful inner monologue of Every Mother We Know.

Wow, I’m bad at this. There’s never been a worse one.

Okay.

Yeah, I’m really doing a horrible job. There’s something about your book that really stuck with me.

And it’s this time of life that you were just talking about, where you’re going to this small town church and it feels in a lot of ways like a really supportive family community and they do this thing that I had never in my life encountered called a

Yeah, so it wasn’t, nobody called it a baby parade except for me.

But just to clarify, they weren’t like, they weren’t like, it’s time for the baby parade. There wasn’t any official voice of God like, it’s the baby parade time. That didn’t happen, but pregnancy and childbirth were very well celebrated.

And I mean, who doesn’t love a fresh baby? They are adorable, we love them, they’re cute, babies are great, especially they’re extra enjoyable when you’re not the one that’s needing to do all the things for them all day long.

Anyway, we loved babies and they over-celebrated babies. And so I had never had a baby and all I did was watch week after week or once a month or whenever it was that all these babies came.

A family would arrive to church with a baby they had just had and, of course, everyone’s really excited. And so rather than just like interact before or after the service and people say like, congratulations, you know, that kind of thing.

It was a thing that the pastor would be like, and so-and-so family had their baby. And then everyone would be like, oh, yay. And they’d be like, show them around.

And so then there was like this one big long aisle and down the middle of the church and like the parents would like carry the baby down the aisle slowly, like walking up the one side, walking up the other side, like showing off their baby and be

like clapping and like, oh, it’s a baby. And I mean, I was one of those people. What a cute baby. And so I sort of perceived this to be like, oh, like number one, that’s so cool.

Oh, how exciting, how cute. I get to have a baby parade one day. And also subconsciously, this must be how society views mothers and their role and their value.

And like, oh, wow, mothers are so important and the work they do is so important and everyone’s going to support you.

And when, and then I was pregnant and I had one of those like perfect beach ball bellies where it’s like, it literally just looked like I had a basketball.

And like, I was like the, if there’s like an ideal way to look, I like my first pregnancy was like, oh my gosh, like that. I just like, it was the first time in my life, I loved my belly and then everyone’d be like, how are you doing?

Is the nursery ready? Like everyone’s checking in on you. And so I like, before I had the baby, I was like, wow, everyone loves mothers, everyone loves babies.

I’m going to have this baby and it’s going to be the most greatest thing in my life.

And I’m going to be so well supported because everyone around me has babies and we’re all just going to do motherhood together and like, hooray, I’m going to learn from them and I’m going to be like them. And I got this. Look how patient they look.

They all match. They’re all in matching outfits and they came with warm shortbread and they just have their ducks in a row and it must be because they’re mothers and I’m going to be like that. I’m going to do that is what I thought.

And then there’s the reality. Then there’s the reality.

And I think it bears saying for our American audience that you are Canadian, and what people hear might shatter their delusions a little bit about how superior being Canadian experience in Canada as a citizen is to the American experience where

maternity leave is often non-existent, partially paid, and considered a form of short-term disability for which you should be buying insurance if nobody told you that. So tell me about the difference between your expectations of motherhood as this

I will just first say that when I became a mom, so we’re allowed to have 12 months of maternity leave, and a portion of that you can split between you and your husband.

And so I had a full year off that wasn’t 100% paid, but was partially paid. And even if it wasn’t, like they have to guarantee you your job after a year, even if you don’t get paid.

But now in Canada, like today, you can take up to 18 months of maternity leave. And that’s just like normal to us. So it feels, when I think about what American mothers have to go through, I’m like, oh, that’s torture.

What’s happening is torture and not okay. And not okay for anybody, for the children, for the mom. Like it’s insane.

And so you deserve more. The question that you asked me was, what was reality like in comparison to my expectations? So my daughter, my first born, the first two weeks went pretty okay.

You know, the normal hormones and feelings and can I breastfeed, what’s happening? Sleeping. Two weeks later, her arm stopped working.

I was like, oh my goodness, what is, I broke it. Sent me to the CAS, locked me out. Long story short, we went to the hospital.

They didn’t know what was wrong. And we ended up being admitted to the hospital. And I had to nurse my daughter.

I had to lean over the bed to feed her cause the wire she was attached to, like she wouldn’t reach the chair. So I had to like lay over her like a cow to like nurse her, which the shame and the horror and the whatever.

But then I also didn’t get a bed.

Anytime someone talks about nursing too, I get like ghost veins.

I’m like, oh.

And so then we’re like sharing a room with three other people. My daughter, of course, the newborn, has a bed. And then I get the like sticky plastic green chair beside the bed to stay with her for two weeks straight.

So I’m two weeks postpartum. I’m literally still bleeding and like my stitches are still healing and they don’t provide me like food. They don’t provide me anywhere to sleep.

They don’t provide, like nothing. Like she is the patient. And so of course my like mental stability just like deteriorated and deteriorated and started feeling like, oh I, gosh, like do I, what do I, I like, I didn’t know what was going on.

I just knew that I like, I couldn’t function and I care about her and I want her to get better and I don’t want her to die and all the things. And so like day after day, it’s just exhausting.

And then I got an infection in my milk duct and they wouldn’t have their lactation consultant who was literally five feet away from me. Right there. Treat me because I was not the patient and I didn’t get birth at the hospital either.

So they’re like, oh, you can leave to do that. I was like, I can’t leave the babies exclusively breastfed. Like I don’t, I can’t leave.

So anyway, I ended up like Googling how to deal with it. And I just remember going to the shower and like trying to like work out the blocked duct and just like sobbing.

And I remember just like walking through the hallway of that hospital towards the public showers feeling like I was completely invisible. Like these people aren’t, no one’s looking at my belly anymore.

If they are, they’re like, that’s disgusting, right? It’s not like this cute, glorious belly. I don’t have this glorious pregnancy hair.

I look like I’ve been hit by a train. I haven’t slept in a month. I like none of my needs are met.

Nobody seems to care. Nobody even seems to notice that I’m there and that I am like responsible for sustaining the life of their patient.

I like looked in the mirror when I like got into the shower room and was just like, I just like, am I even a person anymore? Like, am I completely invisible?

And just the contrast from like the baby parades, like, yeah, everyone’s going to support you to, oh, actually you’re invisible and your needs don’t matter anymore. It was so shocking. It was so shocking to me.

And I was like, I think I just stopped being a person is what happened and I’m invisible.

And that’s something I, of course, would go on to experience over and over again as a mom, that you just, society really doesn’t care that much about the well-being of mothers, even if it directly affects the children, which we say are the most

important people, but we can’t seem to make that connection. And like the church that I was going to at the time, they did provide some meals and they were supportive and loving, but over time, I did start to realize that there was something kind of

missing that I expected as well there too. And so it really just messes with your head because you have this idea of like, this is what it’s going to look like, feel like, be like, this is how I’m going to be treated, this is what it will be.

And then when it’s not, it’s very easy, especially for me to assume, oh, I must be the problem. There’s something wrong with me. I’m just, there’s something wrong with me.

And I’m selfish for wanting to sleep and I’m selfish for wanting to exist as a human person alongside this little person who of course is valuable. And we can all agree on that.

And can I matter too, do you think? No, okay.

Right, can both of those things exist?

Yeah, yeah. It sounds like you are internalizing all of this and assuming that these experiences are just some kind of shortcoming in your maternal capabilities and not reflective of cultural attitudes around motherhood. Does that sound right?

Yeah, yeah.

About this period of your life?

When my daughter survived and we went home, and I think what that initial experience did to me was it sort of compounded this idea that it’s up to me to figure it out and I better work hard and do good and meet all the expectations that everybody has

and oh, what a privilege it is that my baby is healthy and alive and okay, so I’m going to go extra hard and be this like ideal mother that everybody paints this picture of. And so when we got home for the first year and a half, I went hard at like

being that perfect mom who made all the food from scratch, who didn’t give her baby sugar, who exclusively breastfed till 15 months. She didn’t see a screen. We did baby salsa dance.

I’d put her in the wrap and she’d breastfeed while I was cleaning the house, while muffins were in the oven and I was just like nailing it.

And after spending a lifetime of trying to be a good girl anyway, like I was already someone who was a people pleaser and somebody who struggled to say no and felt like I had to work for my value and my worth and that I had to keep achieving and

doing so that I could be worthy, that just reinstilled this idea that like, oh, I am doing good and I am good enough because I’m nailing these different areas of my life. And that kind of felt okay.

It was almost just like, I don’t want to have to do it by myself, but I am. And that gives me this sense of almost pride of like, yeah, I can do it. And it wasn’t until my second born who, you know, I love from the marrow of my bones.

But also, I ended up, like I just want, I just wrote in the book, I’m like, I wanted to put him in a dumpster.

Like it, like the contrast between my first born who pretty much did the things babies were supposed to do and this second born who didn’t sleep, didn’t eat, nothing I did soothed him, nothing I did appeased him, lost weight, you know, any semblance

of support that I had sort of up and vanished with the second baby, the load, the mental load, all the things increased, all the needs increased, all my needs had been depleted for longer and longer. It wasn’t until he came along and I was like, oh,

I can’t keep achieving. Oh, I’m not good at getting this kid fed. I’m not good at calming this kid down. I am not this kid’s source of comfort.

Actually, I think my scent makes him want to die. Like I think he just hates my being. I can’t sing when I sing he cries, when I rock him he cries, but like I, it’s all me.

And so when I could no longer keep all the plates spinning and I could no longer keep doing all the things that made me feel like I was good enough and made me appear like the church moms with the matching outfits and the shortbread and the whatever,

I didn’t go, oh, everything got really hard and I’m having a hard time because this is a lot of work and it matters and it’s a normal human experience to be tired by things that are tiring and feel sad that your efforts aren’t making a difference.

No, I went, oh, Libby, you’re a piece of garbage because you cannot do the basics of being a mother and everybody else seems to be not only handling it but handling it with a smile. So it must be me and I must be garbage and actually I am not cut out

for this and it’s my fault that I’m having a hard time. That’s sort of what happened.

What is, will you tell us about what your family looks like at this point? Like what is the situation? What is your support system?

Just so people don’t think like, wow, her husband’s a piece of shit.

Thank you for that. So my husband who, I mean, so he’s English by the way. And so in England, they are much more, they’re not as leaning into traditional gender roles as maybe the American typical household is.

And so he grew up with a mom and dad who both equally shared the load at home. And so our marriage had always been pretty equal. Like I’ve never packed his lunch a day in my life.

He did his own laundry. He cleaned up his own plates. Like we’ve always had a pretty equal partnership.

But when my first born was born within the first few weeks, he got hired with the police department. And so from the beginning of motherhood, he was just not there as much as I thought that he was going to be.

The first three months he was away for training in the police. And I was by myself. And then when he came back, he did shift work.

So he worked like a rotating day night shift from hell, which meant that he was gone a lot of the time. Or when he was home, he was sleeping or recovering. And so I was the default parent.

And at first, I actually liked cooking and I liked having a tidy house. And there was this element of me that loved playing house at first, especially because of the chaos I grew up in. So I liked it.

And so we never had an explicit conversation around who would do what. But the longer we went and the more we got into parenthood, I just was carrying more because I was the one that was home, I was the default, and that’s kind of how it was set up.

And so when he was home and awake, he was present. But I mean, I was the one that was carrying all the mental cards. I was the default parent.

So my husband is not a douchebag. He’s quite supportive. But we just we found ourselves in a situation where all of a sudden it was like, oh, all of these things just landed on my list without any intention.

And it’s a lot. And then I have at the time, mom and dad, my dad is disabled, deaf, illiterate, like he can’t read and write, didn’t work, didn’t have a car.

And so it was like my responsibility to maintain a relationship with him and go see him and sometimes help him. And my relationship with my mom was extremely co-dependent and enmeshed.

So at the time I was very involved in her life, but not in a way that was the support was going the opposite way to what it normally would with like a mom with young kids. Like she lived a half hour away, she didn’t drive.

So I would drive to see her multiple times a week. I would help her solve problems. I felt very responsible for her and cared for her a lot and did a lot of things for her.

And I put that on myself. And so I not only didn’t really have parental support, but I was actually supporting them as a mom with young kids. And a husband who wasn’t really around.

And for a couple of years, we had Greg’s dad lived with us in the very beginning for a couple of years in like an in-law suite. And he was supportive when he was around. He was really lovely.

But after my second was born, he got married and left and moved away and found happiness. And was not in our like everyday lives anymore.

So a lot of things happened all at once when my second born came along from like, he was born and was very different than my first. Wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t sleep. I like an idiot lunatic decided that we should move when he was born.

Cause I just thought, oh like, it’s fine. Like it’s fine. I just had to be able to make a lot of choices.

Let’s just go look at houses. Let’s just go look at houses in another town. Like this seems like a great time to do it.

We want to do it before the kids are in school. So when you have a newborn, it’s a perfect time. So we decided to move.

And so then we moved towns, we leave our church, we lose our one grandparent support system because the other grandparent’s in England. And I just decide that I should carry everything myself. And it’s just, it’s fine and dandy.

And so it was a lot, but I didn’t see it as a lot at the time because I was just kind of like used to it. I knew it was a lot because I was exhausted, but it’s only now that I can zoom out and be like, oh my gosh, like that’s insane.

How and why and what for?

Yeah. Yeah. How and why and what for?

Because when you’re in it, you can’t really always see it or you think, well, if this feels heavy for me, I must be weak.

Even if I imagine if you had a friend, a sister, anyone in your life that you love who was carrying all of those things, you would say, that’s quite a lot. Could I help you? But, and I relate to this, for yourself, you’re like, just get stronger.

Don’t struggle. Have you tried just doing it all? And then keep doing it all.

I think motherhood can teach us so much about ourselves even, and maybe especially when it’s lessons that we don’t want to learn. But as all of these things are coming to a head, what are you realizing about yourself?

It was a really long process for me.

So the first time I was truly honest with myself about it was when my second born was about six months old.

And of course, I was running a volunteer organization as well, where we packed shoeboxes full of gifts for women who were unhoused or at risk of being in house, because why not?

And I got back from a shoebox packing party and my trunk was, the back of my SUV was full of these shoeboxes. And so you have to wrap the lid and the bottom separately. And they were packed with these gifts, candles, whatever.

And so I opened the back of the trunk, it’s freezing cold, it’s nearly midnight, I’m getting home, like 10 of them fall out, like everything smashes all over the ground.

And that night I had just like, I had gone out to be like, I’m going to run this volunteer thing as my me time. Like I need a break, my mother-in-law is here to visit, I’m going to go do this thing as my me time. That’s normal.

That’s normal. It’s my me time. I’m getting away from the kids.

Like what? And I just remember everything breaking and like bending down and putting the things back in and being like, I am the shoebox.

Like I am the shoebox with all the things broken inside, like just shattered and useless, cannot be used anymore, like not functional. But I just have this shiny facade, like this pretty wrapping paper on the outside.

And that is what I’ve been presenting to the world for a very long time and trying to keep on my ducks in a row. But really I’m just like broken inside. And so that was the first time I admitted that I wasn’t okay.

And I like called, you know, the doctor went to see a therapist and you know, I didn’t, I never wanted to go to therapy because I was like therapy is for crazy people and the last thing I ever wanted to be was a crazy person.

But I just wanted them to help me not to feel full of rage towards everything and everyone all the time. So that was the beginning. That was the first time I was really honest with myself.

And I kind of thought like as I worked through my postpartum depression, like, okay, we’re getting better now. But then as like the kids got older and had different needs and they became toddlers who are insane.

And my child who didn’t eat or sleep turned into a child who actually couldn’t speak.

And I was in charge of their therapy and all the practice and all the communication and all the things like as all of it grew my rage to also grew and there was a moment when I remember the first time I like unleashed my like rage on my kids that I

it was after that, that I was like, I think that we need to like do some more digging. And, you know, maybe it’s not just about like, oh, like cute little boundaries. Like maybe why do I feel so responsible for my mother?

Why do I feel like saying no makes me want to peel my skin off? Why do I keep taking on more than I can handle and then taking it out on the people that I love more in the world? Why am I a person who does that?

And how do I stop doing that? Why does the sound of my children’s laughter make me full of rage? And so that’s when I really started to do deeper work on like, oh, what is trauma?

Oh, it’s not just wars and floods. It can be complex from your childhood. Oh, and oh, that’s why I am a people pleaser.

Oh, that’s why I’m hypervigilant and controlling and have a savior complex and want to save everyone and do everything.

And so it took a long time to really figure that out and it was through really being honest with myself about the shit storm of my life and the reality of my circumstances.

Like, no, Libby, you are not the church moms who are surrounded by their five adult siblings and their grandparents and all the cousins where everybody lives in this like communal motherhood scenario that we all dream of that generally doesn’t exist

anymore in the world. Like you’re not a part of that. You don’t have all these brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and cousins and all these people to be leaning on. Like it’s you, like it’s you.

And like your husband is not there and your parents need you. And like what other mothers are caring for their parents? Maybe there are some, but no one in my circle was.

And this is when I was finally honest about like your parent situation is different. Your friend’s situation is different. You’re caring a lot.

Your child has extra needs. You have trauma.

Like once I could finally like sit back and acknowledge the reality of my circumstances and learn about why I was like having all these tendencies to just keep going and going and going without ever stopping or slowing down or asking myself why I’m

saying yes. That was when I finally began to be like, oh, maybe I shouldn’t expect myself to make everything from scratch. Oh, maybe I shouldn’t expect myself to host every family Christmas dinner. Oh, maybe I shouldn’t expect myself to XYZ.

Maybe I shouldn’t plan our entire lives and days around the one hour that my husband, Greg, is going to be home and awake and with the kids. Maybe I should make plans to go out and socialize so I don’t become insane.

And so it was through being honest about the reality of my life and what capacity I actually had that I could really start to go, hey, that’s kind of unrealistic, Libby. Maybe you shouldn’t be doing those things.

And then slowly allow myself to let go of things or be honest about the fact that just because it feels like a lion is chasing me, it’s not that your kid just won’t put their shoes on and can’t tell you what shoes they want because they can’t talk.

And it’s normal to feel infuriated by that.

Yeah, yeah, and especially when you are so overstimulated all of the time. I really wasn’t ready for that part of motherhood or parenthood in general.

Just, you know, I remember being in the bathroom numerous, I would say almost every time I went to the bathroom and hands, small hands coming under the door searching like little, you know, fingers like looking for me, looking for me.

And, you know, at the time just being like, I want to change my tampon without a witness.

Right. Can a girl do such things?

That’s what I want.

Can I do that?

Can I do that? Can I do that? And now, of course, I look back, I, you know, I missed those little pause in the moment.

I was like, if I am not left alone and not, if one more person says the word mom, I used to Libby, I used to say, like, no one, if you need me, raise your hand. No one say mom for the rest of the night. No one say, no one’s allowed to say mom.

Yeah, no more saying mom.

No one is allowed to do that. And now, my kids are nine and 11 and, you know, nine and 11 year olds be doing things that nine and 11 year olds do. And sometimes I want to be like, you used to beg to watch me have a bowel movement.

Like, you used to cry that I would not allow you to watch me poo. You used to beg me to come and sit with you while you pushed one out and grunted. And like, do you understand?

Do you understand this?

Now, I’m the embarrassing one. I used to have to squat in a low squat, holding your hands while you were on the toilet, while you made eye contact with me. I wasn’t allowed to look away.

And you told me the entire plot of an episode of Pokemon while you pooped. That was a thing we did together.

Yeah, in a public bathroom stall.

Yeah.

And then you asked me why there was a stranger hanging out of me. Right, yeah. Yes, me.

I’m the one. I’m the one. It’s like you used to beg to be around me.

Okay, bud. All right.

Okay. All right, let’s just get one thing straight. Let’s get one thing straight.

51:02

Honest Motherhood Defined

But like we’re getting to like this, you know, you mentioned this, right? Which is, you know, just let’s be honest with ourselves. Let’s be honest with each other.

Your book is called Honest Motherhood. Your Instagram, you know, and TikTok, everything that sort of like blew you up online was based on honesty, right? Like the diary of an honest mom.

What does like being honest about motherhood do for you? Because I know what it does, you know, for me as a person, as a woman, right? Like it opens that gate and I’m like, oh my God, thank God.

Yes.

So I feel like it’s changed over time. When I first started sharing online, I, and it was really the, it was around that time that it was the first time I was really being honest about motherhood in my life in general as well.

And opening up with friends or with my husband or things like that, you know, it had the power to like make me feel less shame, make me feel less alone, make me feel like I wasn’t crazy.

And then it also provided that for the people that I’m being honest with. And so it is and was powerful to like be honest about motherhood out loud with other people.

But the spoiler alert of the book for me, and which is like what I believe about what honest motherhood means in general now, is that it’s about being honest with yourself.

I think that there’s so I and so many other mothers struggle to actually be real and honest about what are the circumstances I’m mothering in and what can I expect of myself based on those true things.

And they don’t have to mean that I’m not good enough or that I’m bad at being a mom or that I should be able to handle more. They’re just facts. You have a needy child.

You don’t have the support system you expected. You have raging ADHD. These are true facts that affect the day.

Oh, you did not sleep well last night. You have, your dad died last week. I mean, you know, that was a couple of years ago now.

But if like, if we’re honest about the reality of our lives, like as a practice, I look at it as a practice now, like day in, day out, moment by moment, is what I’m expecting myself realistic, considering the actual real true circumstances.

And can I be honest enough with myself about those things so I can adjust my expectations and what I do accordingly?

You know, if I have trauma, being honest about that is going to help me to like adjust my expectations of how I’m going to deal with my dysregulated child because I don’t know how to regulate, so I need to do with that first.

So I know that there’s power in being honest, obviously, and I share my story because I know that it helps and I know that any of us sharing with each other like, hey, I also wanted to do this very bad thing or run away from my children or whatever.

That helps. It just helps you be like, oh, I’m normal. Like, it’s okay.

But on a deeper level, it’s basically it’s mothering and living with intention and the practice of honesty so we can take care of our kids and be whole people at the same time.

And you can’t do that if you’re just mothering on autopilot, just saying yes to everything and trying to do everything that the whole world tells you to do and not being honest with yourself. Like, what are my priorities? What can I handle?

So, yeah, Honest Motherhood is just the practice of being honest all day, every day, because there’s going to keep being new problems, always.

Oh, and the problems, like the stakes get higher in so many ways. You’re like, whoa, okay, okay. All right, all right, not prepared for this, but you’re just literally never prepared.

But I like what you said about being honest about where you are, what your priorities are, and starting by being honest with yourself, because if your priority is, well, I have to say yes to this, and you don’t really know why you’re saying yes to

1. For a long time, I always thought I was, I was like, well, I can do it. And it’s like, well, yes, technically you can do it, and you did do it, and at what cost.

I’ve pushed myself to several mental breakdowns that were almost all self-inflicted, I would say. Almost all just a reflection of me being like, well, I don’t know, someone asked me, I better say, you know, like, what kind of person would say no?

Right, and insane how it feels radical to stop yourself and be like, why am I doing this? Or like, why do I feel like I need to do this? Why didn’t even, why did it not occur to me that I could say no?

Why am I prioritizing this other person’s feelings and comfort over my literal sanity? Like, why am I doing that?

And I had that experience, one of the big experiences and big changes that I made was in my relationship with my mom, where that was a relationship where my needs didn’t even occur to me.

When it came, like when she came over for Christmas, I wasn’t thinking, oh, what do I want? I was like, oh, where do I put the things? Where do I make sure people sit to make sure she’s comfortable?

Where do I do? Oh, she needs to get to this appointment? Oh, I’ll be the one to pick her up.

It didn’t even occur to me like, oh, should I say yes? Who else could do it? No, it just was like a natural thing to prioritize her needs.

Then I applied that to everybody else in my life.

It wasn’t until I started to learn about why I was the way I was that I realized, oh, Libby, you literally never stop to ask what you want or what you need, or if that’s realistic, you just naturally do things.

I think for so many moms now, especially in this day and age where there’s information everywhere about what you should do, there’s just this constant like, oh, keep this person happy, keep the in-laws happy, do what this expert says, do what this

expert says without any stopping to be like, wait, why am I doing those things? Or why am I relying on what they say as well? Why am I not stopping to ask myself these questions?

And society is set up to make you so burnt out that you don’t feel like you have the capacity to stop and slow down and ask. So it’s like this internal and this external where it’s like, yes, I had to do all this work on myself.

Yes, we do have accountability for like, how honest we can be with ourselves and how intentionally we live.

But also the whole system, especially in the United States, is set up to just completely exhaust mothers to the point that it’s like, you can’t, it’s so hard to logically be like, okay, I’m going to slow down and breathe and like, oh, I’m going to

notice that feeling in my body when my mother-in-law made that comment and how I like wanted to just jump in and be like, oh, I’ll take care of it. I’m going to notice that feeling. Where does that feeling come from?

Am I saying yes because of something from my past or am I saying yes because I want to? No, you’re just getting exhausted because everyone expects you to do everything all the time. And so it’s hard.

It’s hard and necessary.

It’s like, I’m going to notice this feeling in my body, but also my kids are in a fistfight over Roblox.

And all the men are, yeah, they’re all drinking a beer. And so no one’s also going to deal with it. So I will.

I’ll feel that feeling a little bit later if you don’t mind.

Okay, I have a little game to play with you. I’m calling the Honest Motherhood game. I’ve got a couple motherhood phrases and we’re just going to rapid fire.

I’m going to say them and you’re going to rank them. You can make up your own ranking by the way, but I have it on the one, the scale is this, from honest to dirty filthy lie. Okay?

And you can think deeply about them or you can not think deeply about them. The choice is yours. But we’re going to start off with a good one, which is motherhood will come to you naturally.

It’s a dirty filthy lie.

I think I might have different voices. I’m going to have different voices for all of them.

Good, good, good, good, good, good. A good mother always puts her children first.

Wrong. I want there to be like a big red button. I know that wasn’t on the scale, but I…

It’s my little tiny… Not that one. Okay, these are…

Am I playing it correctly?

Am I doing it correctly? No, you are, you are. So some of these are hard for me to read just because I’m like, ooh, okay, okay.

Okay.

You don’t know love until you become a mother.

Oh, I gotta control my face.

Sorry, I just… Do you do video? Cause I have realized that I am so expressive.

We’ll do little clips, and that one’s going in.

And I just like do things?

Okay. Okay, I need the question again.

Oh, you don’t know love. You don’t know love till you have your own children.

That’s wrong. I forget the scale. I mean, it’s wrong because people do know love, and that’s just dumb to say something like that, that people don’t know love.

And also, I’ve never felt such an immediate and visceral and primal desire to protect and nurture something like I have in having my babies. But that doesn’t mean that not having babies means you don’t know what love is. That’s stupid.

I know.

It’s like one of the dumbest things people say. Sorry. Whenever I see that, I’m always like, shut up.

Shut, shut up. Shut up. Oh God, I just had a good one, and I literally forgot it, and I just had thought about it on the fly.

Those of you who don’t know love until you have your own children. Oh, a mother’s love is unconditional.

It should be. I’ve lost the scale entirely.

Yeah. It should be. Also, I’m going to show my bias here.

We all know people for whom it’s not, and I think that there are a lot of people out there who have been neglected or abandoned emotionally or physical by moms. I don’t think that motherhood flips some magic switch in you. No.

For every person, I just don’t think that’s true.

Which is why I think, I don’t know if it should be is what I meant to say, but I am one of those people who have been deeply hurt by the person who I thought was supposed to love and protect me at all costs unconditionally.

When I hear that a mother’s love is unconditional, it’s like, well, how privileged and lucky are you if that’s been your experience?

But for many people, it hasn’t been, and it’s its own unique grief that is unmatched, is different to other types of grief. And there’s that.

Yeah. All right. This one’s a softball for you.

There’s no way to be a perfect mother, but a million ways to be a good one.

Oh, that’s, I forget the scale. Winner.

Winner. That’s Honest Motherhood, baby.

That’s Honest Motherhood. I should have written them down. That’s Honest Motherhood.

Yeah, that, that’s it, right there.

All right, Libby, you got 100% on that game, so you are a good mom. I’m happy to be the person who finally tells you.

Thank you. I will internalize that now. Thank you.

Thank you.

And that’s a compliment you can take to the bank because that is, here in America, we do value moms. So you can take your good mom award down to the US government and they will give you nothing, okay?

I can’t wait for that. That’s going to be really fun.

It’s pretty great.

Your country just sets the precedent for this is how valuable mothers are and this is what we do to make sure they know that and that children grow up to be mentally stable.

Thank you for saying that.

You know what you’re doing.

People are always talking about like Scandinavia and it’s like, okay, well here when you have a baby, well you might die giving birth and then if you do live, you will have to go back to work right away. And also you should nurse your baby.

That is the best version of feeding your baby. However, we can’t guarantee that you’ll have a place to do it. It definitely won’t be clean.

Could you do it in the bathroom? We technically have a mother’s room, but oh, a man is using it for a conference call. Also, there’s only going to be a mother’s room if you work in an office that would provide one.

But if you don’t, I guess good luck. Daycare costs more than sending your kid to college. Why did you have a baby if you couldn’t afford it?

But also having a baby is your duty as a woman. Welcome to America and thank you for having a child here.

And good luck. You’re gonna do great. You’re a super mom.

Hooray.

Oh my gosh, girl, you’ve got this. Mama, you’ve got this. You’ve got this, mama.

1:04:06

Listener Feedback and Farewell

All right, this segment is something that we call Feedback Loop. You know that this is a call-in show. You probably, I’m guessing, you’re a good listener.

You listen to the credits. You know that we want to hear from you. We want to hear your comments, your questions, your concerns, your feedback, if you will.

So I have two voicemails, two listener voicemails, to share with the class about recent episodes. The first one is about Marcel’s recent two-part miniseries, called There’s Someone Dying Upstairs.

Hi, guys. My name is Jen. I’m a longtime listener of the pod.

And I just wanted to say I really, really enjoyed your most recent segment on Marcel’s mom and her journey at the end of her life and caretaking. I think it’s so important nowadays to have these conversations about caretaking and end of life.

I’m a little bit biased, as I am a hospice nurse. And I see this every day, how so many families are blindsided by the end of life and all the emotional and physical labor it takes to be a day in and day out caregiver.

These are conversations we need to have much sooner with our family members and much sooner in a disease process. Many times, physicians and other health care providers are not doing it until it’s too late.

So thank you for highlighting this really important topic. And I love the work you do. Thanks.

We love the work you do.

So shout out to all the hospice nurses, all the hospice workers in general. I fully agree these are conversations you got to have early and have often. And they’re scary conversations.

I understand why people avoid them. But trust me, you’re going to want to have these conversations. All right.

Second voicemail. Here it comes.

Hi, Nora.

It’s Stacey. I just want to tell you how much I love the wind phone. And the second wind phone, it really touched me to know that there are other people out there that are grieving as well.

Anyway, you’re the best.

I love you.

I love your show. You pulled me out of some really deep holes. Take care.

Bye.

Okay. Everyone needs to know I don’t choose these voicemails. Grace chooses them.

I would never choose a voicemail that says that many nice things about me. So I am embarrassed as embarrassed as you are by hearing those compliments said to me in public, but maybe you aren’t embarrassed by hearing somebody else be complicated.

Maybe this is something that I should bring to my therapist this week. But we also love the wind phone. We have loved making the wind phone.

We have loved getting everybody’s wind phone messages. The wind phone is always open. Guys, people are still going to find those episodes, they are still going to be calling in.

I imagine there will be more wind phone episodes.

And as you are listening to this episode, if you want to call in about Honest Motherhood, if you want to reveal a little bit of Honest Motherhood in your own life, there was an entire chunk of this podcast that Libby and I recorded that we could not

fit into this episode and that part is a mom hotline. And we got a lot of voicemails. We got a lot of, we actually did not get a lot of voicemails. We got a lot of text messages.

We got a voicemail or two about this, about what it really feels like to be a mom right now. That hotline remains open. And surprisingly, it is the same as the wind phone.

Surprisingly, it is the same as every other phone number that you will hear on this show. It is 612-568-4441. So keep your calls coming.

You guys tell us what you want to hear about. We do listen. And you might end up in a feedback loop, but in a good way because it’s this segment.

That was our conversation with Libby Ward. Libby is the author of the brand new book, Honest Motherhood. It’s really great.

I want you to check it out. We also have a copy of it to give away over on our sub stack. A good mom is not a perfect mom, or a mom who has perfect children.

A good mom is a mom who cares about her children and cares about herself, who does her best to make her kids feel seen and heard, while also making sure that she herself is seen and heard.

A good mom is there to lift her kids up in hard moments and celebrate them in their good moments. And a good mom is also worthy of being held in her hard moments and lifted up in her good moments too.

As a mom, I talk to and about myself in a way that I would never talk to my children or about my children, and in a way that I would never want them to talk to or about themselves.

I also judge myself in ways I would never, ever let another mother judge herself. Not on my watch, no, no, no.

I realized when I was working on this episode that it is coming out on the six-year anniversary of the novel Bad Moms, which is a novel that I wrote with the creators of the movie by the same name, John Lucas and Scott Moore. Two great guys.

I can name maybe one hand the number of men in any industry who have earnestly helped and nurtured me in my career, and these are two of them.

Now, unfortunately, this book did come out during the pandemic and nobody was in the mood to LOL about anything, but I actually do think it’s a pretty good book.

And it is about this very topic, how the pressure of being a good mom can make women go absolute bunkers.

I will link to it in the episode description, and we will give away some copies of that, and a copy of Libby’s book to paid subscribers over on the sub stack.

Now, as a child, I never considered the pressure my own mother was under as a mother of four working full time and doing all of the home and child care tasks. Why would I? I was a kid.

I didn’t know about domestic labor or the mental load, and even if I did, I wouldn’t have cared. That sounds boring. I was interested in cool things like writing novels about my grandma’s cats, or playing Ninja Turtles.

But looking back now, mom, the way that you parented us is even more impressive. Not perfect, but really, really good, and more than good enough. So thank you to my mom.

Thank you to all of the moms out there who called in, listened in, all the non moms who are listening to this, who are sharing this. We appreciate you. Thank you to Libby Ward.

Libby’s book is called Honest Motherhood. It is really lovely. I give it five stars.

Again, I have a copy of that to give away over on our sub stack. I’m Nora McInerny. This is Thanks For Asking, and I would like to thank you for being here, truly.

We have been making this show. We’re coming up on our 10-year anniversary. Pretty wild to exist in media for a decade.

It’s not easy to do. It’s not easy to do as an independent podcast when there are big companies with big money out there and big budgets, but we are here, and we are doing it, and you are why we’re doing it. We couldn’t make a show without listeners.

We could, but it would be weird, and I would not want to do that. But your support means everything to us.

It makes the show possible, so thank you for listening, for subscribing to the show, for rating and reviewing it, sharing it, texting it to a friend, whatever you do, and thank you for calling in what you want to hear about, what you feel about

episodes. That number is 612-568-4441. We have a YouTube. It is linked in the episode description.

There are videos over there, some full episodes, but a lot of video clips over there. You can also join our sub stack for weekly essays, monthly reading roundups, ad-free episodes, the entire back catalog.

The sub stack is where you can also find bonus episodes, and we are going to have a bonus episode coming up very soon with a mom hotline, a mom hotline that I mentioned we opened up with Libby Ward. Libby and I recorded that.

This episode was too long, so now that is a bonus episode, and you can find it over on the sub stack. You can join as a free subscriber and get plenty there.

You can also join monthly, annually, or as a supporting producer if you want to help financially support the show, no pressure. But supporting producers get their name in the credits.

And speaking of credits, our team here at Feelings & Co’s Marcel Malekibu, Grace Berry, and myself. Our opening theme music is by Geoffrey Lamar Wilson. The theme music you’re hearing right now is by my son Q.

And our supporting producers have really stepped up this year and helped make this show possible.

So big thanks to Augie Book, Joy Heising, No Name, Nancy Duff, Jenny Medain, Kathleen Langerman, Jordan Jones, Ben, Jess, Beth Derry, Sarah Garifo, Kathy Sigman, Sarah David, Mary Beth Berry, my high school gym teacher, Sheila, Crystal, Kaylee Sakai,

Virginia Labassi, Lizzie DeVries, Rachel Walton, David Binkley, Lisa Piven, Michelle Toms, Nicole Petey, Melody Swinford, Caroline Moss, my best friend, Michelle Oh, Andra Brzezinski, Amanda, Jess Blackwell, Abby Arose, Crystal Mann, Bonnie Robinson,

Lauren Hanna, Jacqueline Ryder, Patrick Irvine, Shannon Dominguez-Stevens, Cathy Hamm, Erin John, Penny Pesta, Mad Christina, Emily Ferriso, Elizabeth Berkley, Kiara Monica, Alyssa Robison, Kaylee, Kate Byerjohn, Jessica Reed, Courtney McCown, Jeremy

Essen, Lindsay Lund, Jessica Letexier, Lexi-Laine Watkins, Robin Roulard, Jill MacDonald, Dave Gilmore, Laura Savoy, Chelsea Siernik, Kelly Conrad, Micah and Jen Grimlin. We’ll see you guys here again next week.