“...There are some days when I feel overwhelmed, I’m not proud to admit
They say it takes a village, but that’s something I ain’t get…”
-Excerpt from Words Thoughts & Emotions Vol. 1, Page 18-19
I became a mother at 25 and I can honestly admit, I was not prepared. Mentally, emotionally, physically, the whole ordeal definitely took a toll on me that I am still recovering from. I was evolving into so many things at once and I could not seem to catch up. I had been a nursing student convincing myself and others nursing was what I wanted because so many convinced me the plan seemed right. I had also fallen in love and was finding my place in the relationship while learning my partner as well. The relationship with my mother was distant and I had not spoken to her in a year and was working through that heartbreak, all while trying to figure out who I was. Adding a child into the equation was risky, yet there was no one who could tell me God did not write this plan specifically for me.
I sank into postpartum depression and was drowning. Most would gasp and reach to be saved, yet I allowed myself to just sink and smile through it. Triggering conversation about how I intended to raise and nurture my newborn sparked more and more stress causing me to feel depleted and question how God could place such a huge task in my lap, in my arms.
“No formula? That baby needs more than breast-milk. Put that baby in daycare. It’s been 6 weeks, when are you going back to work? Why did you take your baby outside so soon?”
There were so many opinions on how I should raise a child that I carried and cared for from those who barely checked on me during my 38 weeks of pregnancy. I could not understand. Typically, as a non confrontational person I never spoke back or disagreed with these comments, just smiled and went along. However, I cried so much my tears became the ocean I sank in.
What’s the longest you went without a full 6-8 hours of sleep? I probably have you beat with a record high of four long months. I slept thirty minutes to an hour everyday, but no longer than that. My thoughts, anxiety, and depression ate at me every second. Sleep paralysis kept me up along with the every 20 minute check ups to make sure my baby was still breathing (first time parents you know). My partner noticed and begged for me to get back to myself, however that old version of me was long gone. I was no longer 25, childless, focused on my career, and being a good girlfriend. My focus was being a mother I thought my child needed and trying to break a cycle that I myself had come from.
So much pressure that was weighing me down.
I felt alone, scared, confused, at fault, the list goes on and on. Yet, my daughter’s face was the only thing to keep me from losing all my breath. Trying to explain myself to the strong women who raised me seemed like a slap in their face. They were able to do it single and alone. Why couldn’t I be just as strong?
It wasn’t until my second child and another dip in the ocean that almost took me under, that I realized I was stronger than I gave myself credit for. My desires and expectations as a mother are my own and no one’s opinions can dictate that. Now as a 30 (something) year old mother of two I am more confident in how I approach mothering and how I go about standing up for myself. I’m no longer expecting to catch up to all the changes, but going with the flow and having no expectations.
Now, no longer in nursing school, almost 8 years into my relationship (now married), and my revived mother-daughter bond with my own mother, I find happiness and light where there was once darkness. God wrote a plan that I was unsure of, but what do I know? Clearly nothing if I thought I was in control. This initiation into motherhood has encouraged me to allow a better, stronger version of myself to emerge and I must admit, it is the best hood I’ve ever been a part of.
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