I never anticipated the overwhelming wave of emotions that would accompany motherhood. From the moment that little plus sign appeared on the pregnancy test, I was carried away by a tsunami of feelings. Excitement, exhaustion, nerves, fear, and joy — all before I even held my baby. And then there’s the love — oh, the love! The kind that sweeps you off your feet, fills you with energy, and gives you the patience to tackle another sleepless night, yet another tantrum, and those endless mealtime battles. That love is constant, and thank goodness for it.
But there’s another feeling lurking in the shadows that we seldom discuss: fatigue. I never truly understood deep, soul-crushing tiredness until recently. When it hit me, it caught me completely off guard because I adore being a mom. I would traverse any distance for my kids, who fulfill every dream I’ve ever had. Every day, I’m immensely thankful for them.
However, as the haze of new baby number two began to lift, I sensed something was off. A dark cloud loomed over me, draining my joy and undermining my ability to parent effectively. It wasn’t just the physical fatigue, which is always present. No, it was something deeper and more daunting.
It was the accumulation of all those small sacrifices we willingly make for our little ones. The cold dinners while coaxing a child into bed, the interrupted conversations as I chase after a toddler, and the fading memory of the last time I enjoyed a date night. Or the small joys, like never getting to savor the last cookie.
Then there are the relentless daily interactions: yet another round of “Where are my shoes?” or “Can I have a cookie for breakfast?” The countless tiny but monumental decisions we make every day sap our energy. It’s the continuous physical and emotional labor of parenting: lifting, negotiating, comforting, scolding, cooking, diaper changing, laundry, planning — the list goes on. Who appointed me the guardian of these tiny humans? Sometimes, I just want to yell at the treadmill of life, “Stop! Just let me catch my breath for a second!”
Let’s be real — these feelings are significant too. And when they threaten to overwhelm us, it can feel impossible to do our job. It’s time we call it what it is: parenting fatigue.
Toss in a generous side of guilt, the mother of all emotions. (What mother doesn’t feel guilty daily?) Who am I to feel tired when I have so much to be thankful for? My kids are healthy, and I’m well, too. Others are managing so much more with far less. I prayed for these little blessings, and my dreams were answered while others still hope. My children need me now, and soon they won’t need me as much. My cup runneth over; I should cherish these moments, right? All of that is true, but replaying them only amplifies the fatigue.
Here’s what I’ve learned recently: we sometimes need to allow ourselves to hit the reset button. No one will brand me a bad mom for taking a break. While I cherish my role as a mother, variety is essential for a happier life.
So, when that cloud of fatigue threatened to swallow me whole, I sat down and made a list of things I wanted to do for myself over the coming year. But then I got overwhelmed by my own self-indulgence and scrapped the list. Instead, I chose one small goal — starting this blog, which has been a lifesaver (and you can find more about similar topics at this link). Maybe another person would opt for a marathon, pottery lessons, or a new language, but for me, one small step was enough to help me find my reset button and reclaim a piece of myself.
I started making changes to carve out a bit of solitary time every few days. I asked for help, and it was incredibly freeing. Of course, nothing is a miracle cure. The hard days are still hard. I often find myself staring at the clock, counting down to wine o’clock. But once I acknowledged how deeply tired I was from seeing myself solely as a mom, that paralyzing fatigue began to fade. Letting go of my guilt breathed new life into me. When I focused on something for myself, I rekindled my enthusiasm for my beautiful job as a mother. I can once again be a mom I’m proud of — and that pride is a big feeling too.
In conclusion, recognizing parenting fatigue and giving ourselves permission to reset is essential for maintaining both our well-being and our capacity to parent effectively. Embracing self-care, no matter how small, can lead to renewed joy and fulfillment in our roles.