There is no wrong path to parenthood
"There is always this push and pull of what choice looks like as a parent."
Ruthie Ackerman wasn’t always sure she wanted to become a mother.
In fact, the same pressures that had her thinking about becoming a parent were also what pushed her to write The Mother Code, which tells the story of Ruthie’s winding journey to parenthood—and the untangling of societal expectations around relationships, mothering, and identity.
Blending memoir and reportage, Ruthie details the many routes she took to conceive her daughter, Clementine, from egg freezing to IVF to eventually using donor eggs. She also pulls back the curtain on her own childhood, outlining family history and the struggles that came with caring for her brother—who was born with a series of rare genetic disorders—and her mother, who navigated medical and mental health challenges. Despite it all, Ruthie notes that while we may have a certain picture of what we want our lives to look like, there is no wrong path to parenthood. Like she writes in The Mother Code, “There are as many narratives on the path to motherhood as there are people.”
This week, Ruthie chatted with us about how motherhood has reinvigorated her relationship with caretaking, uncertainty, and choice. She also shared a few joyful moments spent with Clementine.
So much of becoming a writer and a mother is about that word: becoming. It’s a process, and you never feel like you’re there. Obviously, I’m a mom, but you’re always becoming a mother: learning yourself, your child, and the dynamic. Figuring out how to be a human in the world while having this person who’s looking up to you. I find so many parallels between writing and parenting. With writing, you’re never an expert. You go to the page every day, and you don’t always know what’s going to unfold. That’s the joy of it and also the scary part, because of the uncertainty.
Having Clementine changed my idea about uncertainty. One of the things that stopped me from having a child for so long was that I didn’t want to deal with the fact that all of life is unpredictable. I really like routine. If I could wake up and eat the same thing every day and walk the same route to the coffee shop, that would be my joy! But there’s nothing that takes you out of that like having a kid who stops and smells the flowers, and looks at puppies and other things that catch their attention. Clementine notices everything in the way that we as adults tend not to see as much.
Generally, having a kid is the most uncertain thing you can do in the world—but if I knew who she was going to be and what the outcome was going to be, that would have zapped all the joy out of the experience. Every day, Clementine says something funny or does something unexpected. That’s a beautiful form of uncertainty.
There is always this push and pull of what choice looks like as a parent. Before I had a kid, I thought I would be choosing between me and my child, and always have to decide who was more of a priority. I don’t think it feels like that. There’s this trope that women have to choose all or nothing; you can either be a mother or be anything else. I think it’s both, and. You can do both things. It’s multilayered, which can be painful because you’re torn, but there is no wrong path. So often we’re told as women that there’s a “right” and a “wrong” way to fit in in the world. I think it’s just about trying to figure out which version of “good” feels right to you.
In so many ways, I had a negative view of caretaking. It felt so hard and heavy, and not reciprocal. Now I feel such a difference in taking care of Clementine. I give to her, and she gives back. There’s reciprocity and joy in watching her grow and learn. I wrote towards the end of The Mother Code that the definition of love for me is really commitment and caretaking. And when you commit to taking care of someone else, that is what gives you that feeling we all call love. By committing to my daughter, I feel that I’ve become more expansive as a person—and there’s a lot of joy in that.
“One thing Clementine and I talk about all the time is that we’re only human. Now she goes around proclaiming, ‘I made a mistake because I’m human!’ There’s a lot of joy in hoping that translates into a kind of freedom for her, where she knows that it’s okay to fall and get back up, and that she doesn’t have to try to be perfect.”
Ruthie’s parenting reflections 🤍
When Clementine was an infant, everything brought me joy. But if I had to pick one thing, I’d say it was walking with her strapped to my chest in her carrier.
When she was a toddler, I'd say it was watching her hit her milestones. Getting excited about her learning to walk, jump, and even play soccer in her kiddie class was pure bliss.
Now, as a kid, I’d say it’s seeing her come into herself. She loves to make up songs and dances. She’s also hysterically funny. We recently had a mom-daughter day and went to Russ & Daughters for lunch and then The New Museum, which was really fun. Getting to show her things that interest me—and seeing her respond to them—is really so joyful.
Thank you so much for featuring me! I loved this conversation and sharing more about my relationship with Clem <3
That mom-daughter day sounds awesome!