Francesca

The Maternal Instinct. What is it?

Is it something only mothers have?

Is it something that comes in a one-size only package- you either have it or you don’t?

If you have the instinct, but then you can’t get pregnant – where does it go?

Moving on towards my 60th birthday has caused me to throw these questions into the air and see where they land.

Google says the Maternal Instinct is a ‘gravitational pull on a mother towards her own offspring’. I would say, it’s wider, broader, deeper than that and less territorial. I think it is a protective love, a heart that goes out to rescue, comfort, heal, nurture, sustain; a creative energy that is playful, productive, inclusive and generous.

I look at mothers around me. Some love being mums or grannies, adore everything that goes with it; infact, some are inseparable from that identity. Their kids seem to be the reference point in any conversation. Others are more chilled, slightly more detached, more pragmatic and even a bit bemused by the whole parenting experience. (These are more likely to be my friends). My own mum said the other day that she never really had a maternal instinct. This is my mother who popped out five of us in 8 years.

Reflecting on my own childhood I can see that mum honestly found mothering a bit of an uphill slog. No tears at the school gates for her. She reveled in the empty nest when it came. One of the sharp edges of childlessness is that you so wanted to do a better job through your own little girl; but she doesn’t arrive, and you are left with this unrequited instinct to love. It made me realise that maybe I have more of the maternal instinct than my mum ever possessed.

I had another light bulb moment last week. I was talking with a good friend. She was giving me a catch up on her life and grandchildren, and in the midst of it all, made a throwaway comment about something that happened in the street ‘the little boy fell flat on his face and I ran over and picked him up- you know how the maternal instinct just kicks in, doesn’t it?’ 

I was taken off guard and a little bit delighted by her recognition that I was in her club – yes! I too would have picked him up! Thank you for seeing that in me!  But I reflected that I have only ever seen this as the legitimate domain of actual mothers, the shared knowing of that fertile members -only club. It has for so long led me to feel I am an imposter and my mother’s heart is sad and a bit embarrassing.

But this is what I have realized, the maternal instinct is not something you have or don’t have as though it simply comes in one shape or size and is delivered with the placenta. There are shades, degrees and variations. Not all mums are particularly Earth Mother, some are happy to be average and just plough on through with their own kids.  Conversely, many childless women I know are big -hearted, generous, lavish in their interest and investment in children’s lives. Others are less so, but they express warmth and creative energy in other areas, in friendships, writing, gardening, cooking, animals or at work. Or maybe they don’t. All I am saying is this. The maternal instinct (or the ingredients there in) is not a limited good. Call it what you like. There is enough to go round. My version of the maternal instinct doesn’t particularly love babies or primary colours; it is as unique, paradoxical, and quirky as anyone else’s-and I am going to allow myself to own it.

Photo by Miguel Bruna on Unsplash