Somewhere along the way, mothers are often forgotten. After giving ourselves entirely to the process of growing and birthing a human, it’s unfair that we don’t still share the spotlight when our tiny miracles arrive. But the second we start to feel like we should receive a portion of that love and adoration, we shame ourselves for being selfish.
Somewhere along the way, we might have experienced trauma. And at some point, we started to believe that trauma had only one definition. And that because the pregnancy, labor or birth we experienced may not fit the criteria for this definition, we are not allowed to give it such a label.
Somewhere along the way, this motherhood gig started to look entirely different than what we envisioned. Picture perfect images of a glowing and rested mama holding her peaceful, sleeping babe are replaced with sleepless nights, alarming intrusive thoughts, nursing difficulties and an anguish that makes even the simplest of tasks seem insurmountable.
Somewhere along the way, we might feel as though we lost ourselves. We might grieve the life we once had. The freedom, the friends, the finances now might seem like worlds away. We might wonder if we made a mistake. We might wonder if we have what it takes to be a good mother. We might wonder if our families would be better off without us.
Somewhere along the way, we might feel hopeless. We may feel overcome by darkness and unable to see a way out. We might feel anxiety so intense that we are afraid to leave the house, afraid to sleep when baby sleeps or we might even be too afraid to be alone with the very being we once longed so strongly for. We might have flashbacks, or terrifying nightmares, of birth trauma that bring us instantly back to that wretched place. We might have thoughts that make us question our sanity, our baby’s safety or if we are truly a monster at our core.
But somewhere along the way, we realized that we are not alone. We realized that we are front and center in the spotlight of our baby’s eyes. We realized that baby doesn’t need perfection, just love and just a healthy, happy mama. We realized that trauma is subjective, that our feelings are valid and that we deserve to allow our wounds to heal. We realized that nothing about motherhood will likely be the way we envisioned and we realized that freedom from these expectations lies in acceptance of this fact. We realized that it’s okay to grieve the life we had while also exploring new facets of our identity. And, perhaps, most importantly, we realized that the darkness was not forever. We realized that help is available. We realized that it was in our struggle that we found our strength.
–Written by Alexis Bruce