On Wed, Jan 21, 2009 at 3:09 PM, T wrote:
Hey there,
I wanted to send this to you both. We are leaning towards using my last name for the baby, but have come up against some pretty strong resistance from B’s mom and sister when we mentioned we were thinking of it. The whole last name thing is so annoying. Neither of us wants to change our last names or to join last names or to make up a new one, so we have to pick one of ours for the kid. We don’t really care which we pick, so we have been thinking that--all other things being equal--we might as well take the feminist option and use my last name. You are the only people we know who used the mother’s last name. All of my friends who kept their own (ok, their fathers’) names used the male last name for their kids. I think the only answer for the last name problem is diversity--couples making all kinds of different decisions to break the rule that Father’s name goes. So, on principle that’s where we are. But dealing with hurt and unhappy family members is another story (or maybe not, maybe it’s par for the course, but it sucks). Part of it for B’s family is that he is the only boy out of four kids and his dad died a couple of years ago, so his mom and sisters seem to feel really strongly that he should honor his dad by giving his kids his last name. (The last name will continue through his male cousins though, so it won’t “die out” either way). But his family also recently compared us to the Amish because they think we are so unconventional--i.e., we eat healthily and only have one t.v. that we rarely watch (just to give you some context). Anyway, just wondering if you had to weather any flak from the families about using her last name, and if so, how you dealt with it.
The baby is kicking up a storm these days--yesterday, during and after the inauguration, it was partying like mad! :-)
Love,
T
On Wed., Jan. 21, 2009, at 4:32 p.m., G wrote:
T,
I’m cc’ing M on this; I imagine she’ll want to respond herself.
Here’s what we did: If it was a boy, he’d have had my last name, and since it as a girl, she took M’s. The middle names were picked in part because they sounded echoes of the other parent’s last name. I never heard any flak from any family member, nor really directly from anyone; I don’t recall hearing M tell such war stories, either. But there have been lots of blank stares and double-takes, starting at the hospital when we talked to the (female) hospital or county official (I forget which) about the name for the birth certificate. I imagine all her childhood Baby A will have to confront those who assume “Dad” is not really the dad. I can imagine having to convince school officials, for instance, that I’m actually the father. To me, such inconveniences are entirely worth the modest envelope pushing the naming involved. If no male issue from M and me arrives (and we’ve got no plans), I imagine my direct family “line” might die out, since my brother’s son is gay, and he’s the only option. (Of course, he could adopt. And I’ve got, let’s see, eight male fraternal cousins.) But when I think about it..... who cares? What does it signify, and why, beyond paternal social convention? Why wouldn’t it, for instance, honor your dad to have his grandchild bear your (his) name? (Has he got any other grandchildren coming down the pike?) I don’t have to convince you, I know; it’s just that those arguing the conventional line have no ground to stand on aside from “That’s the way it’s done here” and “Why do you want to be different, you wacky Amish weirdoes?”
It’s funny; I was thinking after I sent you the recent email about our diaper selection process that the one piece of advice I’d give to you and B is: Do things your own way. Do the birth your own way. Do the diapers your own way. Do the child-rearing your own way. Everyone has opinions, and it’s remarkable how invested even strangers can be in you doing things “the best way” or “the real way” or, in short, their way. Test for the baby’s gender; don’t find out until the birth. Drugs during labor or none; ob-gyn or midwife; hospital or home birth. Letting the kid sleep with you; breast feeding for x months; keep a parent at home or get a nanny or go to daycare. On and on and on. People are oddly invested in your choices. M says the only parallel she knows of concerned her cancer treatment, and she thought that had to do with other people making themselves feel better, staking some control over her situation and, thus, indirectly, death. I’m not sure what the emotional stake in other people’s child-rearing is, but it’s palpable. I hear you that the familial flak sucks; we were lucky to avoid it. I won’t offer advice, because you don’t need it. I wish you and B peace and calm and good will around the decision; whatever you do will be done with loving intention, and that’s what matters.
Kick, you little Amish Obama-lovin’ baby, kick!
Love,
G
On Thu, Jan 22, 2009 at 7:32 AM, M wrote:
Dear T,
I am so sorry you are getting blowback for the perspective you and B bring to this issue. I personally don’t know of anyone who has made the decision G and I made. So to have you and B make it would be great! Here’s the way I see it: you and I are pretty well educated. OK, let’s be real: there are few women on the planet who have had more advanced education in feminism and equality. This education is what grants one freedom of conscience, thought, and action. If we can’t make this small, small step, who can, and what hope is there for change? It says too much bad about our world for me to think that people like us would not be able to name a child in a way that swam against the patriarchal tide. I don’t want to live in that world.
I like your diversity argument. I also think about affirmative action when I think about this issue. Isn’t it time a bunch of people mixed it up and named their kids after the female? It would take about a hundred years of a solid minority of folks in the U.S. naming their kids after the mother before people would no longer assume the supremacy of the male line.
One other option that I proposed but G rejected: we each keep our own names and the baby gets a blend. Our blend isn’t bad. G didn’t like it. Your blend wouldn’t be bad, either. (But it won’t satisfy the in-laws, whose name is tragically about to die out. Why they don’t pressure B’s sisters to name their kids in a feminist way to keep the line alive, I just don’t know.)
One thing with us that was funny is that G’s last name sounded much better with just about any first name we chose. We wanted a Gaelic name and I didn’t want an obviously gendered name, regardless of what the baby was. Anything we thought of sounded better with G’s name. But we decided that he would get the males and I would get the females (and any intersex children), and that that division, although imperfect and gendered itself, at least seemed fair in the microcosm. In the macrocosm, there was a 50 percent chance we would never have made any feminist statement via naming, but I was willing to live with it.
So I fear I have now painted myself solidly into the corner of “do things the way we did it” that G warned you about--like so many couples seeking validation of their decisions by encouraging pregnant couples to do the same. So let’s just reject all that! Look, G and I love you both. Whatever you decide is cool. If the pressure is too intense, hey, people have done a lot worse things to their kids to shut up their in-laws! :-) Any name of a new child is a good name. My mom’s family used to joke that one of the girls should have been name Ola Hortense in honor of their two grandmothers. There’s a name!
Good luck in facing this, no matter the decision.
M
On Thurs., Jan. 22, 2009, at 12:38 p.m., T wrote:
G & M,
Thank you both so much for your thoughtful and supportive replies. It’s funny how picking a last name really is a minor thing, but it’s so symbolic that people are very invested in it. Even my mom expressed surprise and concern when she asked what we were doing about the last name (imagining, I suppose, that we would either take B’s name or combine), assuming that I must have railroaded B into this decision with my pushy feminist ways. I suspect that is how B’s family might see it as well, which is probably why I’m struggling with the “good girl” urge to please them. But I am in full agreement with everything you said in favor of using my last name, M. B seems to be on the same page too, but we both agree that it’s sad that either one of us has to be the odd-parent out. We think the boy-gets-his-girl-gets-mine idea is a good one, but if we end up with two kids of different sexes (who knows), we would like them to share the same last name. Anyway, more good food for thought—thanks for listening and responding!
G, your advice to follow our own path is wise. But to be honest I’m having a hard time trusting that we know how to make our own path in this parenting wilderness!! I have been feeling COMPLETELY ignorant about anything baby-related (I knew more about babies in junior high when I babysat all the time--don’t think I’ve changed a diaper since) and, given my anal academic tendencies (okay, I’m also a Virgo), I have been feeling the need to gather information on everything. I don’t really believe that I have any instinctual knowledge of how to care for a baby (hell, I’ve been critiquing essentialist, maternalist ideologies for some 15 years now, so no wonder I don’t think I have any maternal instincts, I’ve theoretically demolished them!). B is more confident that we will do fine, but I sometimes stare at him and feel like shouting, “if we don’t do our studying now, we will NOT do fine!!!” (I’ve made a pile of books for him to read--I think he’s read about 10 pages of one of them, much to my chagrin. I’m afraid I’m a bit of a nightmare right now--saint that he is, he’s dealing with me really well.) Accumulating information is also one of the ways I deal with anxiety, of which I’ve got plenty these days! (Have to just share this: at a conference a couple of months ago I was having a meal with a bunch of friends who are all new parents. One of them was sharing a story about how his baby ate a battery from an alarm clock and it got stuck in her throat and they had to take her to the ER, and I asked totally earnestly why they didn’t just hang her upside down and shake her. Everyone roared and told me I had MUCH to learn before the baby is born!!! I took this very much to heart.)
Some time I would love to have a chat about feminism and motherhood—I do find myself confused a lot these days, caught between my long-held feminist views (which, I must now admit, included some latent denigration of motherhood) and totally new desires and experiences (like, I’m seriously reconsidering pursuing a full-time academic career because I want to prioritize family and don’t want to leave the bay area).... This is all such new terrain: to be out of academia for the time being, to be married, to be pregnant, to be seriously considering alternate life routes to the one I’ve so long imagined! I think I want to be home at least part-time with the baby, and I’m struggling to feel okay about that. It’s like I’ve crafted this whole ediface for my life over the past decade plus, and now I think I might not want to dwell in it!
Okay, enough of true confessions.
Gratitude, love, and admiration to you both,
T
On Thurs., Jan. 22, 2009, at 1:28 p.m., M wrote:
This is just so funny. I love your description of devouring texts in order to shore up what must be a weak/nonexistent maternal instinct. I, too, struggled mightily with stepping into the role of “Mother” that I swore off forever--no takebacks!--in the 8th grade. For what it is worth, here’s what I’ve found: It’s not really a question of maternal instinct. It’s about love, which is evenly distributed. G and I both love Baby A ridiculous amounts. We would do anything for that rabbit. He is as good a parent as I am, and better in many ways. We didn’t know what the hell we were doing when we had a baby but we had a few key resources that I hope you can find: 1) an excellent, overly cautious mensch of a traditional pediatrician who you can call at any time of the day or night, and 2) a funny, skilled midwife that you can call any time of the day or night. They come at every single health issue from the exact opposite places. It helps us stay on the Middle Path. Example: She co-sleeps with kids who are 5 and 7. He subtly encourages what he calls “recreational” breast feeding to wrap up by about 18 months (I am ignoring him). She prescribes grapefruitseed extract for the baby’s thrush; he wants Baby A on a full course of antibiotics. Etc.
Anyway, I’d love to talk with you about the nature/nurture question of motherhood sometime. The one thing that has blown my mind is breastfeeding. Nothing has ever been this much of a pain in the butt (nipple, really) that I love doing. It is Baby A’s favorite thing in the entire universe. That is not an overstatement. She desires and adores my body like no other human ever has. And it never gets old for her. It is always a thing of pure delight. Well, to be that for someone else, in a way that is directly related to gender, just throws a big ol’ wrench in my whole “women and men are equal” thing. Damn. Mind you, I don’t think a lot flows from that biological fact--men aren’t supposed to slay the dragon and women aren’t supposed to clean the toilets as a result, but it is pretty amazing to have a somatic experience of one’s certitudes around gender dissolve, or at least get fuzzy around the edges.
On Thu, Jan 22, 2009 at 5:54 PM, G wrote:
Hey, T,
You’ve probably heard this before, but trust me: you know way more about babies than you think. I didn’t know squat; I’d never babysat, never been around infants, never changed a diaper in my life. (To tell the truth, I was relieved when we chose disposables since I could avoid folding and pins.) My instinct about the battery story was exactly yours. (I don’t know how far down the kid’s throat the thing was -- presumably it wasn’t completely obstructing her airway.) As our family story goes, my dad once turned my sister upside down, held her by the ankle, thrust his hand down her throat, and plucked out a penny. M’s biggest ongoing fear is that Baby A will choke. But kids seem to have good instincts about what they can tolerate in terms of food intake, and we’ve been lucky to avoid Duracells and loose change.
During M’s pregnancy I didn’t read much beyond babycenter.com’s weekly bulletins, and though I’ve since read a couple of parenting books I can’t say how much has stuck. There are still plenty of things for which I rely on M completely: installing car seats, for instance, or altering straps on the high chair, or just about anything that requires construction or tools. (This has always been true, but it comes up a helluva lot more with a baby around.) And I routinely suffer parental guilt -- should I have put Baby A down to pick up the Times crossword puzzle instead of reading “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” for the fifth time? But parents have to maintain sanity somehow. And Baby A is, so far as I can tell, just fine: playful, trusting, engaged in the universe, generally likable. So we must be doing something right. I’d have dismissed these words 16 months ago, but now I firmly believe them: if you never read another word, you and B would have everything you need to be successful parents.
Keep breathing.
G.
On Friday, Jan. 23, at 12:45 p.m., T wrote:
I already feel like pregnancy has “thrown a wrench” into my anti-gender-difference viewpoint, M, so I can only imagine what breast feeding will do to it!! But I agree, it’s not that the biological differences themselves matter, it’s the meanings society ascribes to them that matter and the consequences of these meanings (dragon slaying and toilet bowl cleaning). But that sometimes gets confused when you’re battling gender essentialist “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus” crap all the time--you just start rejecting biological difference itself!
And thanks for the confidence in our abilities to parent just as we are, G. Since I can believe that is true for OTHER people, like you guys, there might be a chance that I can start believing it’s true for us as well. My family actually has a similar choking story by the way--my brother got a candy stuck in his throat when he was a toddler and my parents dislodged it by shaking him upside down. So I guess it does work--or at least it USED to in the good ole days--but this group of parents didn’t think it was such a good idea, and of course, I assumed they must know!
Did I tell you how much I relished Anne Lamott’s “Operating Instructions?” By far the best book I’ve read so far on parenting...
Love to you both, and to Baby A,
T
