The Incredible Shrinking Woman

I never thought too much about whether I’d be a mother (see this post if you’d like). I thought about becoming a mother about as much as I think about breathing or blinking. So after I got married (at the absurd age of 19), the question was never really if we should have kids, but when. So we had kids-three of them-who are now 8, (almost) 11, and 14. They’re great kids. Really, they are. Everyone tells us as much. They get good grades in school, they excel in extracurricular activities (although more the musical ones than the athletic ones), and most importantly-they are nice to other kids. I see that they are good kids. I sometimes enjoy being with them. They are funny and witty and bright. They make me laugh. Sometimes they are wise beyond their years. I’m very grateful to have these three and not someone else’s three.

But still-I sometimes feel like they are sucking every last drop of life right out of me (see statue of woman with children crawling all over her). Last week in an exhausted mini-email-rant to my husband, I told him I feel like Alice in Wonderland . . . shrinking and shrinking until pretty soon no one will even be able to see me anymore. Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve had kids. But the thing is-you can’t know whether you should have kids until you have them. I’ve heard of people who never wanted kids. And then for some reason, they end up with a child and they love it! It feels like they were meant to be parents all along! And they all live happily ever after. But how might you find out whether you’re “meant” to have kids . . . until you have them?

I’m not shy about not loving parenthood (most of the time), so I was intrigued when one of my co-workers sent me this article on Facebook with a comment something like, “Hey, at least we’re not this bad.” The article tells the story of Rahna Reiko Rizzuto, a professor of creative writing and author of the memoir Hiroshima in the Morning-a book that chronicles the six months she spent in Japan on a fellowship and the decision she made while there to end her 20-year marriage and give up her rights as the custodial parent of her children. In 2008, she moved 3,000 miles away from them and now keeps in touch with her kids (15, 11, and 7-hauntingly similar ages as my own) via phone, IM, and Skype several times a week.

As I read about this woman and scribbled down the title of her memoir to read in the future, I had very mixed emotions. First, I was shocked that she had done something so unthinkable. She seriously just walked away from motherhood! Then, I realized that men do this all the time. They decide they need to go find themselves, or they trade their middle-aged wife in for a newer model. And no one really bats an eye. I also felt sympathy for this woman-something I didn’t really want to feel. I wanted to scorn her for what she had done. I wanted to be incredulous (my favorite emotion!). Instead, I just felt sad for her and for her kids. And then I felt happy for her because she seems to be at peace. And then I felt bad for feeling happy for her. How could I feel bad for someone who had done something so dreadful?

What do y’all think? Do you moms out there ever feel like the Incredible Shrinking Mother? (Okay, dads, you can weigh in, too.) Do you long for a day or a week or a month (or longer, like Rizzuto) without your kids? Or maybe even just 10 minutes? Do you ever feel like you are disappearing or worry about what will be left of you once your children are no longer living with you? Do you think Rizzuto was despicably selfish (as some of the comments I’ve read about her over the last week)? Do you pity her? Is there a space for a sympathetic or (gasp!) empathetic response to her actions?