Matrescence: On Pregnancy, Childbirth, and Motherhood

by Lucy Jones

For the decade before matrescence, which began when I had lived for thirty years, my central daily purpose had been, above all, to earn money through work. Before that, from the time my conscious memories formed, my purpose was, I understood, to learn, to pass exams with the highest possible marks, to excel, to achieve so that I could one day get a good job and salary. I needed to prove I wasn’t stupid; I needed not to fail. My achievements were valuable: the exams I passed, the job I got, the paycheck I earned, the conventions I conformed to, the items I could acquire. I was encouraged towards a creative life in childhood, but the cultural messaging around me was limiting and loud. I was a child when the prime minister was Margaret Thatcher, whose work pattern included surviving on four hours’ sleep a night. There was no such thing as society and greed was good. I was schooled in competition and the pressure to win and improve and optimize. By the time I entered the workplace my industrial psyche had been formed. Work happened from Monday to Friday, often for twelve hours a day. My body became machinelike, trained in the rhythms of the working week. I had to earn money, and aim to earn more and more. What do you do? I would ask the people I met, by which I meant, what do you do for work? When I wasn’t earning, my focus was on relationships: maintaining friendships and romantic attachments, spending time and money building social connections, learning to be kind and agreea...