Adult Anxiety

In episode 63 in Season 4 of "Sex and the City," Miranda convinces the newly engaged Carrie Bradshaw to try on some "bad" wedding dresses, figuring the exercise will ease her pre-wedding jitters. But when Carrie sees herself in the three-way, full-length mirror, she starts to panic and screams at Miranda to just rip the dress off her when she is unable to undo the back-length buttons fast enough. Freed from the bodice, but gasping for air and clutching the ripped wedding dress that she knows she'll never wear again (but must now pay for), Carrie notices she's broken out in hives across her chest and back. Later as she recounts the wedding dress break-out (and breakdown) over brunch with her friends, Carrie wonders why she and Aidan need to get married at all when things are "just great" as they are. "Do we really want these things or are we just programmed [to want them]?" she asks.
When I first saw that episode, I remember thinking, grow up! Do you have any idea how many women dream of finding a man like Aidan to marry? I felt no sympathy for Carrie's character, only for Aidan--since it was clear she was about to break this man's heart again (she'd done it once already when she cheated on Aidan with Big--and also managed to break up Big's marriage).
But then this afternoon, I had an anxiety attack as I was reading an excerpt of Judith Warner's new book "Perfect Madness," about the madness of motherhood, in Newsweek.
I read one mother's quote--"About once a year I just end up in tears, telling my husband 'I can't do this anymore'."--and my heart began racing. I was short of breath. Tears actually welled up in my eyes when I got to a quote from a married mother of 2, a Dartmouth grad working as part-time physician's assistant in Denver, who said motherhood was nothing like she'd imagined. "It's stressful, lonely and tiring," she said.
Now I'm not even pregnant. My husband and I haven't even celebrated our first anniversary yet. And yet, just reading an article on motherhood was enough to make me panic. Suddenly, I sympathized with Carrie's predicament. It's not that I don't want to be a parent. But I don't want to be a bad parent.
And I already have a hard time balancing my career with my social and marital obligations (or needs). Last fall, I developed a strange rash on my legs--barely perceptible (just small red bumps) but really itchy--and it seemed to flare up every time I was stressed out at work. Suddenly, in the last two days, the rash has spread to my chest and upper arms and so has the itching. Yesterday, I spent more time scratching my arms, snacking nervously on chocolate, pretzels, and soy crisps (anything I could get my hands on, really), and searching for flights to Florida (where my mom is until late April) than I did working on the 1,800-word freelance assignment that my best friend compared to a "masters thesis on child development," which is due Wednesday. And that's on top of my regular job duties. Just as I was getting down to business, I looked at the clock and realized it was 7:30 pm and Valentine's Day. And my husband was waiting at home for me with a bottle of prosecco, pizza and a box of Valentine's cookies.
So I headed home. And enjoyed a romantic candlelight dinner, trying desperately not to think about the impending work ahead or the itchy rash that now seemed to be immune to Cortisone. And it worked (especially after a couple glasses of prosecco and a couple kisses from my husband).
But today I woke up even more stressed. Fueled by five Valentine's cookies and a large cup of coffee, I finished up a draft of the story (I'll take another look after I finish this) and then went for a walk outside to experience the strangely springlike weather we got today (58 degrees and sunny). I stopped by the gym late this afternoon, where I got on the elliptical and pulled out my copy of Newsweek to read the cover story ("The Myth of the Perfect Mother"). And I realized that the sudden shortness of breath had less to do with my workout (I'm at the gym at least 5 times a week) than with lines like "Because there is right now no widespread feeling of social responsibility--for children, for families, for anyone really--and so mothers must take everything onto themselves. And because they can't humanly, take everything onto themselves, they simply go nuts."
So there we have it. I'm working my butt off to become successful enough in my career in the next 12 months that I can afford to have a baby--and to take some maternity leave without fear of losing my chances at a promotion. I'm juggling freelance assignments with my full-time job, cutting back on nights out so I can pay down my debt and put more into my Roth IRA and 401K. I'm reading parenting books and preparing (mentally) for pregnancy. I'm trying to drink less, eat better, exercise more, and cut back on caffeine. I'm devising ways to earn enough this year to pay off my credit card debt so we can qualify for a mortgage--or, at least, afford daycare. In short, I'm driving myself nuts now. And I haven't even had--or even conceived--a baby yet.
I realized when I was reading the story today that I'm not so concerned about whether we have enough money or career stablity to have a baby. I just wonder: how am I going to be able to handle a child when I can't even handle my life now?
When I'm overcome--and it's happened a few times in the last two years--I sometimes allow myself a "sick day" from work to recover (a mental health day, as my friend refers to it). But you can't take a "sick day" from motherhood.
In the SATC episode, after Carrie's recovered from the panic attack in the bridal boutique and is enjoying a romantic night out with Aidan, he suddenly suggests the pair fly to Las Vegas and tie the knot that night. Carrie demures. And it becomes clear to both that only one of them is ready to get married. "If you don't want to marry me right now, you'll never want to," says Aidan. And the next day he moves out.
Thirty episodes later, Carrie is in her late-30s and back with Big--but without a ring, a job, or any talk of marriage--much less of a family. And that is how the series ends.
But in real life, the story doesn't end when we find the love of our life. You might say that's when real life begins.