Why the “Mom Job” gets to me

So here’s the new sickening trend in plastic surgery: the “mommy job,” a tummy tuck, breast lift, and liposuction. Why? Let the New York Times explain In the Oct 4 issue: “The marketing of the ‘mommy makeover’ seeks to pathologize the postpartum body, characterizing pregnancy and childbirth as maladies with disfiguring aftereffects that can be repaired with the help of scalpels and cannulae.”

The natural effects of pregnancy and motherhood–gaining 40 or so pounds, birth and then months of breastfeeding–are so ugly, they must be removed so women can return to their younger, thinner, sexier selves.

That depresses me. I live in a time when youth has never been so venerated. And I work in a business in which being over 40 is not so hot. So I can’t allow myself to look like a middle-aged mother of two children, which is what I am. I have to get my hair colored; I have to take Spin and pilates classes to stay reasonably thin and toned; I have to wear clothes possessing some semblance of hipness. I have to try to look good but not try so hard that I make a fool of myself.

It’s a fast-moving river of conflicting currents and undertows. And sometimes I feel as if I am drowning in it.

Moms

Sometimes I need a mother. To help with the mess. To tell me I’m doing OK. To buy a rotisserie chicken and salad at the grocery store because I couldn’t shop on the way home and the fridge is empty. To love my kids when they are unlovable to anyone besides me.

And my mother wants to have a daughter who needs her. Who thinks she has some answers and is grateful for her.

And occasionally we try to not just email but talk on the phone and make some sort of connection.

And we can’t.