We’ve all experienced that moment in life when we think we have everything under control—until we don’t. As moms, we often feel like superheroes, balancing a million tasks—jobs, family, soccer practice, birthday parties, laundry, and doctor’s visits. Armed with planners and calendars, we sometimes manage to appear like we have it all figured out. Until the facade crumbles.
I thought I had my life perfectly scripted: graduated high school, went to college, fell in love, got married, landed my first teaching job, and then welcomed my first baby. Everything was going according to plan. Until it wasn’t.
Out of nowhere, my husband and I moved back to my hometown right before our daughter’s arrival. We sold our house, I left my job, and suddenly, I was living in an apartment with a newborn, no job, and few friends—definitely not the homecoming I envisioned.
After delivering my beautiful baby girl, I tried to return to my “normal” life, but life had other ideas. I spiraled into postpartum depression and anxiety, feeling completely unprepared for the emotional rollercoaster. I started drinking more frequently, seeking a way to unwind. Fellow parents understand how overwhelming raising little ones can be. I would scroll through social media, seeing posts about “self-care,” with images of moms relaxing with a glass of wine after the kids went to bed. I was invited to moms’ nights out where women shared the same feelings of exhaustion and stress, enjoying wine and the camaraderie of friendship.
But for me, it wasn’t that simple. I found myself trapped in a cycle I never thought I’d be in—struggling to break free. I wanted to be like those friends who could laugh, cry, and lean on one another, but I felt isolated. I needed help.
Admitting that I needed assistance took time, and when I finally did, I was taken aback by the judgment I faced. Many whispered behind my back, as if a mother couldn’t possibly have a drinking problem. I was perceived as educated and successful, leading others to think I couldn’t be “one of those people.” I was told to just deal with it and return to my life as if nothing had happened. But that’s not how it works. My struggles do not define my worth as a mother; they are simply part of my journey.
Finding the courage to seek help was challenging, but necessary. The road hasn’t been easy, but the rewards have been worth it. Today, I’m able to embrace motherhood and all its challenges because I faced my issues head-on.
So, if you’re out there struggling, know that I see you. You may feel alone, but you are not. Trust that you’re doing your best, and your love for your children is immense. If fear is holding you back, recognize that you don’t have to face it alone. It’s important to reach out for help. Things can improve; they will improve.
For more insights on navigating these issues, check out this excellent resource on treating infertility. And if you’re looking for practical solutions, visit this helpful blog post for additional ideas. For those interested in at-home options, Make a Mom offers great tools to help you on your journey.
In summary, seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness. Embrace the support around you and take steps toward a brighter future.