After five challenging years of trying to conceive, I finally became a mother. Those years were filled with emotional turmoil, and I often found myself pleading with the universe: “If you grant me the chance to be a mom, I vow to cherish every moment.” I was sincere in my commitment, unable to fathom how some mothers could view their children as burdens instead of blessings.
However, fast-forward a few years, and reality hit me hard. With a toddler and a newborn, my life revolved around their needs. I became an afterthought, neglecting my own well-being as I focused solely on their care. Days passed in a blur, my hair unkempt, wearing old t-shirts stained with remnants of baby food and drool.
My pre-mom jeans no longer fit, and my once-loved outfits now lay forgotten in the closet. My social outings were reduced to grocery store runs, which became exhausting tasks involving car seats, diaper bags, and endless negotiations about why we couldn’t reassemble a banana.
Then one evening, I received a call from my friend Lily, who was living a child-free life. She expressed her loneliness and boredom, reminiscing about the simplicity of her evenings spent alone, grabbing quick dinners and watching TV. While she was not trying to boast about her freedom, I couldn’t help but feel envious of the liberties I had forfeited: the quiet moments, the ability to choose meals without considering anyone else’s preferences, and the freedom to watch TV without interruption. It felt like a lottery winner complaining about their wealth, and I hung up in tears, guilty for craving a break from motherhood. My earlier promises echoed in my mind: I would never want to be apart from my child, even for a second.
What I failed to grasp at that moment was that feeling overwhelmed didn’t equate to being a bad mother; it simply meant I was human. Motherhood is a marathon that tests anyone’s resilience. We don’t get days off, even when we are unwell. We push through sleepless nights, managing challenges that would shock our childless friends. The emotional weight of parenting is immense—constant worry, the burden of responsibility, and the fear of making mistakes.
It’s only natural to feel worn out. Missing the freedom to prioritize our own needs before those of our children doesn’t diminish our love for them; it reflects a healthy self-love, which is crucial for our well-being and that of our families.
So, if you find yourself feeling exhausted as a mother, don’t let it induce guilt. Embrace the reality that you’re human and not as distanced from your former self as you might believe.
For more insights on the journey of motherhood, check out this blog post on home insemination. If you’re considering starting or expanding your family, Make a Mom provides excellent resources for home insemination kits. Additionally, IVF Babble offers valuable information on pregnancy and fertility topics.
In summary, feeling nostalgic for your life before children is a common experience for many mothers. It highlights the need for self-care and the understanding that motherhood, while rewarding, can also be overwhelming.