I was navigating the grocery store with my 7-week-old baby, who was my third. I should have been a pro by now, sporting my yoga pants and messy bun, with exhaustion clinging to me like a second skin. My heart was a chaotic mix of nostalgia and overwhelming love. I often found myself wistfully recalling the simpler days of managing just two little ones, even while my heart swelled for this new addition to our family.
But here’s the thing: you’re not really supposed to admit that. I was acutely aware of the clouds of postpartum blues hovering around me, making it hard to breathe. My “resting mom face” could have made anyone double back, but in a world where everyone is captivated by the tiny miracle in your arms, the mom often goes unnoticed.
Strangers approached, eager to gawk at my baby. They asked how he was faring, if he was sleeping and eating well, and they never failed to comment on how adorable he was. They’d urge me to cherish these fleeting moments.
Occasionally, someone would ask about me, the one who just gave birth, the one responsible for this little miracle. As mothers, we often default to “fine” or something equally bland, knowing that’s what people expect to hear.
One fateful Monday afternoon, while I was alone with my new baby in the frozen foods aisle, a woman with salt-and-pepper curls and glasses caught my attention. She approached, asking to see my baby, and I prepared myself for the act. I was ready to perform—to showcase my new bundle and proclaim that everything was fabulous because this was my third child. I mean, look at him! How could I feel anything but joy?
But truthfully, I was struggling. I felt overwhelmed, grappling with emotions and thoughts I never expected to have. No one warned me that it might be this hard. So, when she asked how I was doing, I brushed her off, tightening my grip on the cart as I replied, “Oh, fine. He’s my third, so, you know…”
I followed the script because no one wants to hear, “Honestly, this is tough. It doesn’t get easier just because you’ve done it before, and I feel like I’m falling apart.”
She gently halted my cart, looked me in the eyes, and asked again, “Okay, how are you really? I had five kids. I fell apart when I had number three.”
I found myself unloading my truth in the ice cream aisle. “He’s 7 weeks old, and it still hurts to sit down.”
With a knowing look, she just nodded. “He never sleeps. Everyone said it would be a breeze with my third, but he’s harder than my first two combined at night.”
I glanced at the ice cream options, half-hoping she would back away, but she didn’t budge.
“So, I guess I’m not fine, but everyone expects me to be. Just because I’ve done this before doesn’t mean I’m okay.”
“Or maybe it’s because you keep telling them you’re fine. It’s okay to not be fine. It’s okay to admit you’re struggling and ask for help,” she said.
“I find it hard to ask for help,” I replied, though what I really meant was I didn’t want anyone to know I was having a tough time.
“Okay, then don’t ask for help. Just keep suffering. You’ve managed this long. What’s a few more years?”
There was no sugar-coating from this stranger. She didn’t offer empty reassurances about how I could handle it because I had experience. Instead, she laid the options before me, and her straightforwardness was a breath of fresh air. I needed to hear the truth, and so did she.
After our encounter, I grabbed both rocky road and Reese’s Cup ice cream, feeling a bit lighter. It was liberating to acknowledge that it was okay to not be fine, that she had struggled too, and that no one truly expected me to be perfect.
I was grateful she reminded me of the importance of being kinder to myself. Sometimes, to make positive changes, we need to treat ourselves with compassion. I just needed a stranger’s nudge to realize that.
Now, I make it a point to tell other moms that it’s crucial to be gentle with themselves when things feel overwhelming. Adjusting to life with a new baby, whether it’s your first or fifth, is a monumental shift. It’s okay to lower the bar and admit when things are tough and seek the help you need. Trust me, you’ll come out stronger on the other side.
For more insights on navigating motherhood and pregnancy, check out this excellent resource on fertility. And if you’re looking for ways to support your journey, you might find tools like a fertility booster for men helpful.
In summary, it’s vital to recognize that struggling is normal, and being kind to yourself during these transitions is not just okay; it’s essential.