I found myself strolling through the grocery store with my 7-week-old baby in tow — my third little bundle of joy. I was supposed to be a pro at this by now, right? Sporting my signature look of yoga pants and a messy bun, I was wrapped in a cocoon of exhaustion with a side of nostalgia. While my heart overflowed with love for this new life, I couldn’t help but yearn for the simpler days when I only had two kids to juggle.
But let’s be real; you’re not supposed to admit that. I felt the weight of the “postpartum blues” pressing down on me, and my “resting mom face” would likely send strangers scrambling in the opposite direction. The truth is, when you’re out with a newborn, everyone’s eyes are glued to that little cutie, not the tired mom pushing the cart.
People would come up, eyes sparkling, asking to peek at the baby. They’d inquire about his sleep patterns and offer unsolicited advice to savor every moment because, you know, they’re fleeting. Occasionally, someone would muster the courage to ask how I was doing — you know, the one who just gave birth, the one who’s supposed to be glowing and brimming with joy. Naturally, I’d reply with a robotic “fine” because that’s what society expects, right?
So, there I was one afternoon, pushing my cart down the frozen aisle when a woman with stylish glasses and salt-and-pepper curls approached. She wanted to see the baby, and I was prepared to put on the show. After all, this was my third rodeo; I should be acing motherhood by now. I mean, just look at him — how could I feel anything but bliss?
But here’s the kicker: I didn’t have it all together. I was struggling, feeling overwhelmed, and grappling with emotions I thought only new moms faced. No one had clued me in that it was okay to feel this way — that maybe I didn’t have to be “fine.”
When she asked again how I was doing, I almost stuck to my script, but something made me pause. Instead, I let the truth tumble out. “Well, he’s 7 weeks old, and it still hurts to sit down.” I surprised myself with that confession, but it felt oddly liberating, like I had found a kindred spirit in the ice cream aisle.
“He never sleeps. Everyone said the third one would be a breeze, but he’s tougher than my first two combined at night,” I admitted, glancing at the ice cream flavors, half-hoping she’d back away. Instead, she leaned in closer.
“Maybe you’re not fine because you keep telling everyone you are. It’s okay to not be okay and to ask for help,” she said, her no-nonsense approach hitting home.
I hesitated, revealing how hard it was for me to ask for help. I didn’t want anyone to know I was struggling.
“Sure, you can keep bottling it up and let things spiral. You’ve managed it this long; what’s a few more years?” she shot back. No sugarcoating, just raw honesty. It was refreshing.
After our chat, I grabbed both rocky road and Reese’s Cup ice cream, feeling a little lighter. I realized I didn’t have to pretend everything was perfect. It was okay to admit I wasn’t fine, that I needed help, and that I deserved to be gentler with myself.
Since that day, I’ve made it a point to remind fellow moms they don’t have to be superheroes. Motherhood, whether it’s your first or fifth, is a monumental life change. Lowering our expectations and being honest about our struggles is not only okay, it’s necessary. This allows us to seek the help we need, and trust me, we’ll all be better for it.
If you’re interested in more about the journey of home insemination, check out this post on home insemination kits. And if you’re looking to boost your fertility, Make A Mom offers great supplements. For more insights on the success of IUI, visit this WebMD resource.
In summary, it’s vital for moms to allow themselves the grace to struggle and to seek help when needed. Motherhood is a wild ride, and we don’t have to do it alone.