- I was surprised when people started calling me Mom when I was pregnant.
- I quickly began to hate it.
- It was all part of my identity crisis while transitioning to motherhood.
During pregnancy, people started referring to me as Mom. While some other pregnant women seemed to find this cute or sweet, I didn’t. In fact, as my daughter (and my belly) grew larger and it was more and more obvious that I was pregnant, so did my annoyance with being called Mom or Mommy. It felt like the person I was, who had a name and a life separate from the life growing inside her, was starting to disappear.
The first place I was called Mom was at my prenatal appointments
It probably all started in the doctor’s office. One of the (many) little failures of the prenatal and postpartum care period for me was being referred to as Mom at my birth center. It was not endearing to me — it felt lazy.
I wanted them to look at my chart and call me by my first name. It seemed like just another thing about the experience that was centered on the baby rather than the person who was growing the baby. I wanted to feel like they were looking at me as an individual, not just another of the hundreds of moms who visited their office every month.
My daughter is now 6, and I still dislike being called Mom, Mommy, or Mama in place of my name by other adults. This is especially true in medical settings, like my daughter’s pediatrician’s office; it feels like they’re not taking my concerns seriously. It also feels infantilizing, distancing, and dismissive.
Motherhood caused an identity crisis
After my daughter was born, I was suddenly no longer a writer, a reader, a wife, a chocolate lover, an anglophile, a person who pooped in private. I was a mom, and my responsibility was to care for the well-being of my daughter. It felt like everything else just fell by the wayside. I felt like my identity as a person — a dynamic, well-rounded person — had been snatched away from me. And being called Mom instead of my name by people who weren’t my actual child just seemed to reinforce that.
I am sure that being a stay-at-home mom also contributed to this feeling of no longer having a purpose beyond new parenthood, though I know working parents also experience this.
When my daughter was around 18 months old, I spent a weekend away from her for the first time. I spent much of the train ride to my destination feeling guilty for leaving her. I wondered: Will she be confused? Will she think I’ve abandoned her? I felt unspoken judgment from others when they asked me who was watching my daughter while I was away. Like I didn’t deserve time to myself or to explore my own interests apart from her.
I’ve rediscovered my identity since my daughter was a baby
The only person I love to hear call me Mom is my daughter. In fact, now that she’s 6, I miss her calling me Mama like when she was a baby. It’s just another reminder that my daughter is growing up.
Since those earlier days of motherhood, I’ve been able to rediscover who I am apart from my daughter, and being called Mom doesn’t irk me the way it used to. The older my daughter gets, the more time I’ve been able to spend doing the things I love: writing, traveling, reading, crafting. And I’ve been able to share them with her as well.
