When the day begins, I find myself awake for hours before officially starting. The baby is nursing intermittently, keeping her asleep while I put off facing the responsibilities ahead. Honestly, I’m exhausted and part of me wishes I could remain in this moment indefinitely.
As the routine unfolds, I pour cereal and make coffee, all while trying to keep tiny hands from diving into the bowl. I savor the moments of laughter and cooing before the inevitable fussiness kicks in. After a quick trip to the bathroom, I engage in a little peekaboo with a towel to distract her from crying. We jump into the shower together because otherwise, she would wail as if in distress. I can’t help but question if I’m doing everything wrong. Am I letting her cry too much or not enough?
Once we’re both out, I start drying my hair, which I dislike when it’s unruly. I wonder what that says about me—am I too vain? The baby is growing tired, so I rush through drying my hair, catching glimpses of my body and wishing things would return to how they used to be, if I’m being honest.
After nursing her to sleep for her first nap, I attempt to catch up on articles, play games, or even close my eyes, but sleep never comes. When she wakes, we play together. It’s easy to elicit smiles and laughter, and I cherish those fleeting moments. However, I also find myself tackling the never-ending chores left by my partner and older child, trying to suppress feelings of resentment. I know I’m fortunate, yet those feelings still linger.
It’s time to pick up my older child from school, and I eagerly anticipate her chatter; she’s so bright and funny. After we return home and snack, she starts asking to watch her iPad. I worry that I allow her too much screen time and question its impact on her development. Guilt washes over me, but with the baby needing another nap, screen time becomes necessary. Once the baby wakes, I juggle trying to entertain both kids. My older daughter wants my attention, tugging at me both physically and emotionally, reminding me of my weariness. If I’m being honest, all I crave is a moment of peace in a quiet, dark room.
When my partner arrives home, our communication has mostly turned to texts throughout the day. It feels like we’re living separate lives. I want to support him and our relationship, but I often feel lost. He offers me time to recharge, and sometimes I accept, while other times I don’t. I attempt to squeeze in a quick workout, hoping to reclaim some sense of myself, to take up less space. Yet, I can sense his impatience with the baby, and I wish he could understand my struggles.
Dinner and bath time roll around, and getting the baby to sleep becomes a challenge. She clings to me, and I worry about her dependency on me. Should I allow her to cry more? I’ve done this before, but uncertainty still clouds my mind. I often feel like I’m too much of everything and not enough of anything.
When my partner texts asking if I can join him, I feel torn. Part of me wants to be there for him, yet a part of me hesitates. Sometimes it feels like he’s just another demand on my already stretched-thin resources, a reminder that my responsibilities are never-ending. I chastise myself for feeling this way; I know I am fortunate. There are people who manage with far less. I can’t shake the feeling of being ungrateful.
Eventually, the baby unlatches long enough for me to find some sleep before she wakes again. The night continues in this cycle, and as morning arrives, I know this phase won’t last forever. But, if I’m being honest, it certainly feels overwhelming at times. I struggle to feel grateful or lucky, which is perhaps the toughest truth of all.
For more insights on pregnancy and home insemination, you can explore this excellent resource. Additionally, if you’re interested in at-home insemination methods, check out this informative post. And for a comprehensive kit, visit Make a Mom.
In summary, motherhood can be an overwhelming experience filled with moments of joy and uncertainty. While we strive to be the best parents we can be, it’s essential to acknowledge the struggles we face along the way.