It’s a fair observation. My partner can soothe our baby to sleep with much more ease than I can, and our little one is well aware of this. However, considering he’s been away for work most of the month, this fact is maddening. Reaching out for help felt pointless because he wouldn’t be available to respond. The overwhelming stress and fatigue I’ve been grappling with finally hit a breaking point. In that moment, I crumbled—something that has become all too common since welcoming my second child and often finding myself on my own.
Honestly, that night, I was not just feeling like a bad mother—I was one.
While I usually thrive in solitude, parenting solo creates an entirely different level of discomfort. As a mother to two young kids, especially with one still in diapers, I hardly have the chance to meet even my most basic needs, like taking a shower or using the bathroom. It may sound cliché, but I’ve practically perfected the art of wearing yoga pants without ever exercising and grabbing meals over the sink. What’s not part of the cliché, however, is the resentment I feel towards this situation.
Not every day is a total defeat, but the feeling of being overwhelmed has become a familiar companion. I’ve found it challenging to carve out time for writing—something that nourishes my soul and supports my family’s financial health. Finding time and energy to exercise has also become increasingly difficult, and I constantly wrestle with the desire to be a more engaged and energetic mother, even if that’s only happening some of the time.
Reflecting on the past year, I can confidently say it has been the most challenging period of my life. This comes from someone who has faced a tumultuous adolescence, battled an addictive personality, and navigated some pretty disastrous relationships. Yet, nothing compares to the life-altering challenges of motherhood.
Perhaps I held on too tightly to the hope that having a second child wouldn’t be as life-altering as the first, yet here I am, feeling the weight of it in every way. While my first child knocked me down, I eventually got back up—stronger and wiser. After my daughter’s unexpected and intense arrival, I felt like I had it all together by her first birthday: healthy, managing work, and genuinely enjoying my family. I had transformed my life, and it felt rewarding.
Fast forward to a year with my second child, and life feels nearly as chaotic as it did when my first was a newborn. I’m still waiting for that elusive calm, even though deep down I know better. I often tell others not to wait for things to settle down—embrace the chaos and find a new normal.
These days, though, I struggle to embrace the madness because I’m too busy doing instead of just being. I find it hard to let go, as everything seems to unravel the moment I do. The moment I pause, there’s a tantrum or a meltdown, and I have to gather my patience to return to a neutral state. So, I keep moving, trying to hold everything together, even if it means I’m the one who ultimately crumbles.
Being an overwhelmed mother was never on my wish list. It’s not what I envisioned. When I fantasized about having a second child, I pictured a harmonious family of four, enjoying music on the porch while the kids played happily. I imagined being healthy and balanced, even if I hadn’t returned to my pre-pregnancy weight.
In reality, that baby has been crawling for months, while my guitar gathers dust in the corner, its strings long silent. The idyllic scene I envisioned didn’t account for my adventurous 5-year-old dropping the baby instead of gently kissing him. It didn’t capture the witching hour, where our little one whines from late afternoon until bedtime, or the sleepless nights that come with a baby who wakes up multiple times. Surprisingly, I may have even gained weight since giving birth.
While the picture I had in mind wasn’t entirely false, it’s more like fleeting glimpses than a bright spotlight. I don’t need motherhood to be easy; it rarely is. However, I long for the ability to breathe freely without constantly being someone else’s support. For better or worse, I am deeply invested in every facet of my motherhood journey, which often leaves little space for personal freedom.
There are moments when I wish I wasn’t so entrenched. Sometimes, I envy my partner, who sleeps soundly in a hotel room without tiny limbs wrapped around him. Yet, despite the chaos, I am incredibly grateful for my children, even on my toughest days. That gratitude often intensifies the guilt I feel when I think I’m failing them.
I am far from a perfect mother—I’m more flawed than I ever anticipated. I imagined I would be stronger, but instead, I’m discovering what strength truly means. My greatest lesson in motherhood is to accept and love myself, flaws and all—my anxiety, my fears—and to teach my kids how to navigate failure and growth.
Even though I frequently struggle, I will always be a mother who doesn’t give up. My experience may not mirror anyone else’s. It might not always be picturesque, but I’m embracing every moment. Deep down, I remain hopeful.
I’m learning that motherhood varies for everyone; it’s often gritty and beautiful, sometimes intertwined in the same breath. For me, parenthood may never be all sunshine and rainbows, but it will be authentic, and in the end, I will emerge stronger for it.
If you’re navigating similar challenges, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination. And if you’re considering at-home insemination, you can find reputable kits available online.
Summary
Motherhood can be overwhelming and chaotic, especially with two young children. While the journey is filled with challenges, it’s essential to find strength and acceptance in our imperfections and experiences. Embracing the unique path of parenting can lead to a deeper understanding of ourselves and our children.
Leave a Reply