House [1] would seem like the last place one would go to find a brutally honest, scarily unflattering portrait of the sometimes complex emotions that accompany modern motherhood. Well, I suppose the Fox drama is the place to find all things brutally honest and scarily unflattering portraits of people, like the chief character Dr. Gregory House. But it hasn’t focused on the experiences of a mother, especially one trying to work and raise a baby. Until now.
Over the past few weeks, the show has featured a story arc about hospital administrator and Dean of Medicine Dr. Lisa Cuddy (Lisa Edelstein) who became the foster mother of a newborn baby girl whom she hopes to adopt. After undergoing years of failed infertility treatments, the single, hard-working Cuddy was finally given a baby to sleep in that creamy yellow nursery she created in her home which radiates all kinds of gingham warmth. But Cuddy had a really rough transition from being a singularly focused, high-powered hospital executive to someone who’s a career gal and has added another job title to the mix: new mom.
Once that eagerly sought baby was finally in her home, Cuddy thought that her foray into motherhood should be utterly flawless and verbally beat herself up when it wasn’t. Like any mom with a newborn who’s also trying to work, her beautiful home had become messy, littered with bottles, diapers and baby junk as she literally balanced her baby on top of her while keeping her laptop computer upright on the sofa next to her. Cuddy was horrified when the state’s children’s services representative showed up early to inspect her home to determine if she was a capable foster mother for the baby. Though she passed his inspection (“You are heads and shoulders above most of the foster moms I visit,” the examiner said), Cuddy felt like a loser because her house wasn’t tidy and she was sloppily dressed.
A colleague, Dr. James Wilson (Robert Sean Leonard), told her to focus on the fact that she’d passed her home inspection and would likely get to adopt the baby. Cuddy didn’t buy it. “I passed by their meager standard,” she said. “I failed by mine.”
Wilson shook his head and replied, “Why do women always do that . . . create ridiculous standards that no human could meet, with your careers, with your kids? You’ve got to be more like us men.”
“Be lazy?” she asked. “Blame others?”
“Get help!” Wilson said forcefully. “Most men in your position have a deputy and two assistants at work, and a wife and two nannies at home. You’re not Superwoman. Don’t be a martyr!”
Cuddy took Wilson’s words to heart and decided to take some time off from the hospital where the curmudgeonly Dr. House (Hugh Laurie) works, and enlisted someone to assume her day-to-day responsibilities so she could spend some time with the newborn. But, unlike many TV programs featuring mothers of new babies, Cuddy didn’t instantly bond with the infant, didn’t have a maternal glow and even dared to speak ugly words that many women would be fearful to utter once they have a baby in their laps: Maybe I made a mistake. Maybe I don’t want to be a mother after all.
During another visit with Wilson in her home, a teary-eyed Cuddy, who was rocking the 8-week-old baby, confessed that she didn’t understand her emotions: “I don’t feel anything . . . I’m not sleep deprived. She sleeps fine. I’m obviously not hormonal. I know I’m supposed to feel amazement. I’m supposed to love her. But I don’t feel anything at all.”
She brought the baby to the hospital -- where she tried to micromanage her replacement’s decisions -- and allowed herself to admit that she didn’t want to go home and spend time with the infant. “I’ve read every bonding and attachment book there is,” Cuddy told Wilson. “I feel like I’m in prison at home. I feel like I’m free here.”
“Parents make sacrifices,” said Wilson, a single oncologist who doesn’t have a child.
“I don’t know if I want to,” Cuddy said as she lowered her gaze to the floor where the adorable baby was sitting quietly in a baby carrier. “I’m not proud of this. I feel terrible. I feel like a failure, but she deserves to be loved.”
A long, loud bout of infant crying which inconveniently occurred when Cuddy was consulting with doctors over the phone, pushed her to the edge. “Rachel!” she shouted at the baby in her arms, dropping the phone on the sofa and looking directly in the infant’s eyes. “I need you to quiet down! I need you to be quiet! I don’t know what you want! I will give you anything that you want. Tell me please.” Then there was silence, followed by a tiny baby smile. You could see the click, the connection Cuddy made with Rachel formed in a realistic, messy fashion.
The episode concluded with Cuddy leaving the baby with a nanny, grabbing her briefcase, straightening out her clothing, taking one last moment to pause and gently kiss Rachel on the forehead and then choking up with tears as she walked away.
If only we had more Wilsons to challenge our maternal perfectionist tendencies and our obsession with perceived “failures” at work and at home (What, you’re house isn’t perfect?! You’re not making homemade meals?!) when we’re trying to excel in both arenas because, as Wilson said, we’re not Superwoman. And it’s no fun being a martyr.