Is the Mid-Motherhood Crisis a Real Thing?

The struggles of Millennial Motherhood in an era of over-information.

I feel motherhood is one of those things you can never win at. No matter how many times people tell you you’re doing a great job, you always feel like you’re failing. And perhaps, that goes hand-in-hand with being a woman, never feeling like you’re good enough for the impossible standards set by society. That said, thanks to the brave fights of women who have preceded us, our generation can seemingly have it all: our own family and career. However, what was once a picture of ambition and success has now turned into an overwhelming feeling of burnout and self-doubt. Have we come to realize that the story we’ve been sold of the perfectly balanced career mom is simply a myth; have we given up on it? Speaking to many of my mom friends, I’m left with this impression.

Lately, I think I’ve been suffering from a mid-motherhood crisis. In all fairness, that’s probably not the best word to describe it, as mid-motherhood would most likely imply that you have teenagers, whereas mine are six and eight. However, the fact that my eldest is turning ten next year is making me feel very emotional (an image of future me surrounded by three dogs to cope with empty nest syndrome springs to mind). People tell you to enjoy every moment and that time flies by, but when you’re dealing with sporadic sleep, toddler tantrums, and the daily juggle, you just shrug it off. Until, you look back nearly ten years later, tears in your eyes, struggling to remember what your children were like at various ages (side note: that’s also when the baby fever sneaks back in). And that’s not mentioning the pandemic, which caused many parents of my generation to feel like there is a two-year gap in their children’s childhoods.

We claim to want more time to do x, y, and z because all we do is rush around, but ironically, that’s the best way to make it seem fleeting. For all our talk about self-care and mindfulness, the reality is that we’ve forgotten how to take each day as it comes, or rather, society’s list of priorities, mixed in with the media, keeps us focused on future threats over daily pleasures (profit is worth more than time today). I’ve never really been someone who obsesses over the past or even looks back on it much. Maybe I’m paradoxically too sensitive for that. Instead, like many, I tend to constantly worry about the future, often forgetting to remain in the present. The fact that I am almost entering the last years of my son’s childhood has made me focus on the future even more. Coincidently, this period is also when my career has been picking up.

As a perfectionist, I think I’ve always struggled to find a balance between work and family. I never want to let either side down, but in the end, it always feels like I’m cut in half. Particularly now, with my mid-motherhood crisis, I’ve been reflecting on what I want the next couple of years to look like. I’m very lucky (and I don’t say that lightly) to have a flexible work environment with very understanding managers, so I think I’ve achieved a good level of balance. Yet, when I think about the future, I feel like I’m looking at two different versions of myself or who I want to be: one version is leading an amazing career leaving an inspiring legacy behind her; the other is a loving, doting mother with a big family. Naturally, I tell myself that I can be both. However, when I start to break it down, my mind starts to churn: to be a successful working woman, I need to dedicate myself fully to my job and that would take time away from my family; similarly, if I were to dedicate all my time to my family, I wouldn’t be able to compete for a top seat at the corporate table. For my generation, “success” has meant juggling both versions, but it might be time to redefine it.

I feel like I’m exhausting myself trying to make the two co-exist. And I know I’m not alone. According to a 2023 survey of 3,000 UK working parents of pre-schoolers conducted by the Fawcett Society and Totaljobs, one in five working mothers had considered leaving their job because they struggled with balancing work and childcare; one in ten handed in their notice due to this (as cited in The Guardian). Interestingly, according to an article by Rachel M. Cohen, published by Vox, multiple surveys of American women have found that it is working women with the most financial resources and workplace benefits, including paid maternity leave, who have reported the most stress and unhappiness with motherhood. Society no longer seems to be leaving us with much of a choice but to be torn between two versions of ourselves. So, the question we need to ask now is: do we continue trying to make them co-exist, at the risk of fully burning ourselves out (which is surely a terrible outcome for our children), or do we rethink what modern motherhood means to us? Evidence would point to the latter.

Becoming a parent has always been a life-changing decision, there’s no doubt about it. But, for Millennial women, and even more, for Gen Z women, there seems to be an unprecedented sense of anxiety linked to the idea of having children. Of course, there are societal factors attached to this: the cost of childcare has never been so high, nor has the cost of living. And many of us are left lacking a sense of stability, with mortgage rates and rents having soared. These factors are definitely contributing to falling birth rates, which most governments seem incapable of understanding. However, there is something else. Unlike previous generations, we all became (or will become, if that’s your desire) mothers in an era of over-information and social media.

In previous generations, raising children was done in a more intimate context. Of course, people have always had different opinions on how best to raise a child and a lack of restraint when expressing them, but this was done within the family context or your small group of girlfriends. It was face-to-face, and thus, perhaps more human, and you were likely to already gravitate towards women with similar values to you. However, for us, we’re raising children amidst the chatter of Instagram, TikTok, Facebook, and whatever other social platform exists out there (my Millennial brain can’t keep up). The amount of opinions on motherhood has been amplified on a global scale: some list every reason under the sun why becoming a parent is a bad idea, some proclaim that dedicating your life to your kids should be your sole purpose… and then, there are “experts” thrown into the mix - some highly qualified and some not so much - who offer contradictory opinions on how not to traumatize your children (and we all know that this is a big concern for us Millennials, who carry around a great deal of Boomer-derived trauma). Perhaps, information doesn’t always lead to empowerment, at least when it comes to an unfiltered surplus of it.

As Millennials, we are nostalgic for a time of great prosperity, and dare I say, fun: the 90s (I acknowledge that I’m speaking from the privileged position of someone raised in North America and that this was not everyone’s experience). We grew up when the economy was booming and that has left us with an ongoing sense of optimism that can be revived with just one hit song from the noughties (okay, I exaggerate here, but you know what I mean). In The Deloitte Global 2021 Millennial and Gen Z Survey, it was reported that despite the pandemic, setbacks, and challenges that lie ahead of both generations, they share a persistent sense of optimism. Is this just down to the idealistic naïveté of youth; is it a coping mechanism to handle all the uncertainty we are faced with; or, is it a way for us to further rebel against inequalities that have become societal norms? I have many friends who have told me: “I probably can’t afford to have a child or more than one; it will most likely impact my career. It’s not that I don’t like my job, but I just don’t care anymore. I want a family and that’s just more important to me”. That may sound reckless to many, but we’re not given much choice (or perhaps, we’re given too much choice).

When it comes to parenthood, we know that it may sound crazy to want to build a family when the world is seemingly (and literally) on fire, but our engrained optimism keeps us hoping for the best and feeling like it’s not too late to change things. I think that’s why we are largely so prone to positive parenting (although I’ve not mastered it), hoping we can raise a better generation. It’s important to also note that Millennial fathers have become the most present of any generation (shout out to my husband). We are largely raising children without a “village”, so it takes a strong sense of community, whether that be through a marital/non-marital partnership, friendships, family, employers, etc. Someone once told me that raising children is like heading your own business. You need to monitor the accounts, manage schedules, and check stock, to cite a few examples. For a business to run successfully, you need multiple senior executives and departments to work closely together and communicate with each other. If it’s all just on the CEO’s shoulders, then the business will struggle. With so many of us living away from our hometowns or raising children as single parents, we need to adopt this mindset. A mother’s role is key, but so is that of a support system. I’m proud to see that Millennial fathers are also taking a stand, understanding that their role is just as important in a child’s development. The more we think of parenting as a partnership, rather than a solo exhibition, the more chances we have to reach true equality. Progress is being made; it’s just about telling the right stories.

Naturally, no one wishes to return to a state when motherhood, just like women’s health, was a taboo topic and rendered saccharine by widespread media. Women now have access to more chat groups than ever to seek advice and positive experiences around motherhood. But we’d probably benefit more from having a few of these, monitored by real experts, than countless videos by people with or without children telling us how we should be raising ours. Let’s not forget, that there’s also a strong cultural component to take into account, which I may delve into in another article.

There is also the risk of motherhood becoming increasingly politicized. We all know about Roe v Wade being overturned in the US, with the Republicans not-so-subtly pushing for women to re-adopt a more traditional role and Democrats warning against the dangers of having a child when not prepared for it. It’s easy, from across the pond, to view this as an American issue. However, I would warn against this. Political leaders closer to home (I write this from London) are adopting increasingly right extremist rhetoric. If the goal becomes to politicize motherhood for votes, then it will create an even stronger division between women, which would be of benefit to none of us.

Whether we have decided to forgo having children, have multiple children, or remain undecided, we now, more than ever, need to show solidarity and respect for each other’s choices. There is a fine line between sharing overly positive or negative stories about motherhood and talking about it candidly. No journey consists of only highs or lows. It’s impossible to remove all feelings of guilt and self-doubt – it comes with the job – but by sharing our views and stories around motherhood in a truthful, authentic way, we can help build a stronger, less lonely community. Let’s channel some of that Millennial optimism.