Delving into the Clenched Cords of Motherhood and Mental Illness

By Harshita Khatri and Liya Ann Mary

Mothers are the source of love for humanity. They embody selfless love, the sacrificial love, the kind love and everything in between. It is natural for them to love. It is required for them to love. It is mandated for them to love. But what happens when you don’t have enough love for yourself, let alone your child? What if you are on the verge of giving in, on the verge of sanity?

The bodily and psychological trauma of pregnancy is often veiled under the outer garb of seemingly bright-hued terms: ‘miracle of birth’ and ‘the beautiful phase of womanhood.’ The fact that motherhood is the most stressful and mentally taxing role for a woman is brushed under the carpet.

Despite the cultural positioning of motherhood as a largely joyous and rewarding experience (e.g. Bobel, 2002; Choi et al., 2005; Nicolson, 1998), many women experience uncertainty and distress during the postpartum period that ranges from mild to debilitating (Driscoll, 2006; O’Hara and Swain, 1996). Mothers who are battling with mental health issues are constantly neglected in the oh-ever-so-fulfilling motherhood narrative. We never acknowledge mothers who aren’t prepared, mothers who don’t want to be mothers.

Mother, the ever-self-sacrificing incarnation of Bharat Mata, the one possessing the prototypical Reema Lagoo characteristics from the movies such as Maine Pyaar Kiya (well, have you noticed that all the deified forms of motherhood are a creation of a male?). But what if the same mother turns into the abhorrently ‘gory’ Lady Macbeth?

I have given suck, and know / How tender ’tis to love the babe that milks me. I would, while it was smiling in my face, / Have plucked my nipple from his boneless gums / And dashed the brains out, had I so sworn as you / Have done to this. (Macbeth) 

Postpartum depression is a form of depression that occurs after childbirth, typically within the first few weeks or months. It is not to be confused with the “baby blues,” which is a milder and more common condition characterised by mood swings, anxiety, and fatigue. PPD, on the other hand, is a more severe and prolonged form of depression that significantly impairs a mother’s ability to function and care for her child. But more often than not, PPD is brushed off by labelling it as ‘Baby Blues’ and mothers are pressured to enjoy the hardships because “these times won’t return.”

Movies have often attempted to explore the complexities of postpartum depression. While movies can raise awareness about postpartum depression, it is essential to ensure that their portrayals are grounded in reality, representing the experiences of those affected with accuracy and empathy. Unfortunately, some depictions have been inaccurate, sensationalised, or romanticized, leading to misconceptions about the condition.

Beyond movies, postpartum depression has also found its way into popular culture through various media, including television shows, music, and literature. However, the depiction in these outlets is often shallow and stereotypical, perpetuating misconceptions about the condition. For instance, TV shows might trivialize PPD, presenting it as a mere inconvenience that can be easily resolved or brushed aside. This not only undermines the severity of the condition but also discourages open discussions about mental health challenges faced by new mothers.

On the other hand, music and literature sometimes romanticize or dramatize PPD, presenting it as a source of artistic inspiration rather than a mental health crisis. While creative expression can be therapeutic, it is essential to avoid romanticising mental health issues, as it may discourage those affected from seeking help.

Recently, there has been some discussion about PPD and other mental health issues of mothers, although some might be flawed, there is something. But the impact on children is often not looked at, thinking they are too young to be affected. But untreated PPD can continue into later stages of motherhood or can manifest into other mental health disorders.

Exploring PPD and the impact of mental illness through personal narratives 

1. The unhealed scars

As a 10-year-old, I have been up at night, wondering if Amma ever truly wanted me. The constant comparison with her childhood and achievements used to leave me drained and self-conscious. As a 12-year-old, I resented Amma, for being inefficient and placing me primarily under my father’s care. That was not how mothers were. But as a 19-year-old, I understand my mom; the anger is dissipating and in place of it is an ache, a sadness. I wished my amma got the right help and not neglect and taunts.

Postpartum depression affects not just moms but can also have a significant impact on the child’s well-being and development. According to research, children of moms with untreated PPD may have cognitive, emotional, and social issues. Infants may be exposed to a mother who is emotionally distant, disengaged, or unwilling to engage in caring behaviours during a vital stage of bonding and attachment. This can impede the development of a secure attachment, which can have long-term ramifications for the child’s emotional and cognitive development. Furthermore, children of PPD moms are more likely to develop behavioural issues such as aggression, hyperactivity, and social interaction difficulties. These difficulties may last throughout childhood and adolescence, affecting the child’s academic achievement, relationships, and overall quality of life.

2. Interplay of sex, family, motherhood and social stratifications

“Vandyashtamay…….” – 9/80. A barren wife may be superseded in the 8th year; she whose children die may be superseded in the 10th year, and she who bears only daughters may be superseded in the 11th year; but she who is quarrelsome may be superseded without delay. (Manu)

In the Honourable world of men, maintaining their rather august breed is of primary importance. Motherhood is a cameo in the larger scheme of producing eminent heirs. Therefore, things are eventually bound to unfurl in the failure of mothers to provide the same. One such story lies in the streets of Delhi where the boorishly sophisticated gentry resides.

After an extremely complicated pregnancy where the mother was prescribed bed rest for the entire nine months gave birth to a beautiful and healthy baby girl. Now, the most important thing to know is this child was the second female child in a row. And, of course, who can blame the family now when acquainted with this fact?

The grandmother of the newborn cursed the mother writhing in pain as the doctors had just stabbed a painful injection in her spinal cord to perform the c-section. The elder daughter was too scared to express her happiness and the father stood there with furrowed brows trying to console the grandmother. Pity finally overtook the grandma as she now wept for her son who has been subjected to such misfortune and begged him to leave, leave everything and go live his life.

The poor mother stayed there on the hospital bed numb with pain. Days followed and she went back to the dark home laden with shadows of gloom and anguish. The father usually paid his wife a visit after every 4-5 nights; so no, he did not completely abandon his responsibilities.

The child would cry, and the mother would continuously scream at it for not allowing her to perform her household chores, for being a hurdle in her performing her designated duties until one day when her dejection stirred gruesome thoughts in the mind of a rather slender and timid-hearted woman. She often looked at her dupatta with the intent to strangle her baby; she still does today after many years. She held it responsible for her husband’s adultery, her mother-in-law’s curses, and the degraded social position she was accorded after its birth.

Conclusion

Mothers in middle-class Indian families are naturally employed as the ‘beasts of burden’ who ought to carry all the familial responsibilities on their rather ‘slender’ shoulders. But what happens when the leash of control gets so tight that it becomes difficult to breathe?

Be it Lady Macbeth, Procne, wife of King Tereus, the cold-blooded mother who slit the throat of her child while the latter smiled at her to avenge her sister Philomela, who was raped and mutilated by the former’s husband or the dejected mothers in the above narratives, all these mothers have one thing in common – the subjugation of their identity, material independence and social standing at the cross-section of patriarchy and rigid gender norms.

Men as mentioned before are rather conveniently removed from the narrative. Society easily forgets that men are equal participants in bringing a child into the world (Ultimately, it was Mother Mary who wept in solus while she held her dead son’s body). All we get right now are tokenistic advertisements that show men ‘helping out’. Women are supposed to be good mothers by default, while it is enough if men are mere fathers. They are praised for doing the bare minimum while women are constantly criticised and judged – another main cause of stress and anxiety for new mothers or mothers in general. Men are praised for ‘babysitting’ their own kids, while mothers are expected to discard their careers and lives for children. Even if the father does take up a portion of the childcare, the invisible labour still falls on the women – managing doctor’s appointments, meal prep, family dinners and much more.

And God forbid the roles are reversed, and the family has an absent mother – not by choice, mind you, but because she physically and mentally cannot – the pity for the father flows in abundance from immediate and extended family, neighbours, friends, colleagues, doctors, the milkman, the newspaper boy, the whole wide world. Society actively helps propagate this unfair burden of childcare on women, the pity for ‘working fathers’ is an example. Women are asked if they would be ‘starting a family’ before starting their jobs and are actively discouraged from taking up promotions. Even the legislature is complicit. Paternity leaves are rarely heard of, there aren’t changing tables in men’s washrooms, and no childcare facilities at the workplace.

What we require are proper public policy and structures that can help new moms deal with such a huge change and not tokenistic ads of men ‘helping out’ or posters that tell them, “It’s okay to be not okay.” We need to have tangible changes.

However, the first cornerstone would be the initiation of ‘non-deification’ of mothers, accepting them as human beings who undergo a plethora of emotions, who evolve each day like any other human being and not an ever-devoted selfless robot who has been programmed as a caregiver. The image of the instrumental role of mothers needs to be deconstructed, the object which is a device in the larger scheme of things, the helpless figures of Mother Mary who are the subjects of Annunciation, whose destinies are laid down by the celestial figures. They are not, as V. Geetha notes, suggested by Ancient Hebrew texts: as agriculture became a settled way of life, men began to assert that their ‘seed’ or semen was the source of the child’s soul, and the woman was merely the substrate or field in which it was sown. In this way, they were able to deny much of women’s power over birth. The first milestone to be achieved is providing alternate narratives to the ever-patronising narratives of motherhood, which embark to incarcerate motherhood under the pangs of rigid, misogynistic narratives.

Photo: iStock

Works Cited  

McShane, Kelly, et. al. “Postpartum depression in refugee and asylum-seeking women in Canada: A critical health psychology perspective.” Health, vol. 19, no. 3, 2015, Pp. 318-35.

Geetha, V. Gender. Theorising Feminism Series. Stree, Kolkata, 2002.

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