Technology and Parenthood Walk into a Bar
Amanda Hess takes on the messy modern relationship of parenthood and technology in Second Life: Having a Child in the Digital Age
In pregnancy, one will likely initiate new relationships and deepen pre-existing ones. Relationships may be established with physicians, midwives, or doulas. Possibly connections are formed through prenatal yoga or what I like to call “how to keep your baby alive” class. Guidance may be sought from friends or family who are already parents. One relationship that isn’t always considered is the one with the internet. This, too, will change. And no, this isn’t about beliefs around screentime.
A “beach read” of sorts
I recently had the pleasure of reading
’s new book, Second Life: Having a Child in the Digital Age*. It is an unconventional page-turner. of podcast called it a beach read when Hess was a guest on the podcast. And I have to wholeheartedly agree. The writing is smart, funny, and perceptive as Hess recounts her first pregnancy while exploring the intersection of digital life and parenthood with a critical eye. I couldn’t put it down.
In the early chapters of the book, Hess explores the surveillance we willingly sign up for with period trackers, pregnancy apps, and quiet online searches, with all the questions we don’t want to ask in other places. I reflected on my online engagement during my pregnancies, especially in those early days when you tell no one but your partner and your Google search. I’ve birthed four humans. I had generally straightforward prenatal experiences, although there were quirks (as I called them) at times. And each quirk led to an additional scan here, lab work there, or some type of additional monitoring. And some additional online querying. Somehow, I often found myself in threads based in the UK, evidenced by words like loo and NHS. It was the Britbox version of anxious pregnant people. And just like a British murder mystery soothes me at the end of a long day, so did these threads. These inquiries were all about hope. Hoping to find someone similar with the result I was wishing for. And I did this all with the knowledge that I routinely counseled families in my role as psychologist in a Cleft-Craniofacial center, not to consult Dr. Google. Do as I say, not as I do.
Old stories in new technologies
In Hess’s story, a quirk is the beginning of a more complicated pregnancy course that results in the identification of her son having a rare genetic disorder, Beckwith-Wiedemann’s syndrome. Hess and her husband navigate the labyrinth of prenatal testing and are presented with many possible futures until they arrive at a diagnosis, all while in the isolation of the pandemic. Alongside her story of pregnancy and early motherhood, Hess explores the convergence of capitalism, ableism, racism, and other -isms with the digital webbing shaping modern parenthood. I greatly appreciate how Hess follows the thread of stories, their origins well in existence before today’s tech bros were born. She highlights how many of the narratives we have around healthy pregnancies and healthy babies are rooted in beliefs that we may balk at now. It reminds us that there is not much that is truly new, but more often rebranded and packaged in app form with a near-exponential reach. This is a point sometimes missed in discussions about the influence of technology. I find arguments disingenuous when they lead us to believe that if we were just to eliminate certain aspects of technology, we would go back to something better. It’s like the scene from Independence Day, when everyone re-emerges after vanquishing the aliens. Vanquishing the technology is unlikely to happen, but it also doesn’t address the fact that humans are behind the technology, not this guy.
It all comes back to control
Hess takes the reader on a journey into the different ways the theme of control manifests throughout the pregnancy experience. And as detailed in the book, that things one does to control may look different, but at the core, it’s very much about the same goal. Hess does a fascinating dive into the world of free birthers, which I couldn’t stop thinking about. Hess also explores other efforts of control through our technology-based “village” and its many accessories. This theme of control brings me back to my original reflections on my use of strangers on the internet during pregnancy. It felt that the more I knew, somehow, the better it would be. Somehow, I could control something by being connected to someone far away through the magic portals of the internet.
Our hopes of staying in control don’t evaporate after pregnancy or once a child starts solid foods. It seeps into so many things—the expectations we have for our children, our parenting experience, and ourselves. My very first essay on Substack, Flour Fiasco: I Am Not a Calm Mom , was about my own battle with controlling myself.
“So here I am. I have this big, hulking expectation that I am going to be a “calm mom,” and I should be calm all of the time. Heck, I NEED to be a calm mom, because according to all the research, my kids’ positive character traits, mental health, accomplishments, SAT scores, and future well-being for their WHOLE LIVES depend on it! Also, they should have no sugar or screen time, but that is a story for another day. I so badly wanted to be a calm presence.”
Spoiler alert—I often don’t meet the expectation of calm presence. But it’s important to question where I got that story to begin with. It wasn’t born from the internet, but it certainly is delivered by it. It’s no joke to interrogate the mess of it all. However, you can do it on the beach with a good book…
