The demands of children, spouses, work, and caring for ourselves (lol) takes a toll on maternal mental health in the postpartum period and beyond.
I remember leaving the hospital with my firstborn, stitched up to my a**hole, a big smile painted on my face with a new lipgloss. My hair was waved from the day before and had been spritzed with dry shampoo, a high contrast to the sweat that was starting to pool betwen my breasts and the panging I felt in my ears. Why was everyone being so loud??
We had visitors. First it was from my Dad, then my in-laws (I think). My mother must have showed up at some point. Honestly, the only thing that I remember acutely was the pain that I felt when I willed myself to sit up in a chair to receive everyone, my baby craddled snuggly in his new bassinet next to our master bed. I remembering vomiting in my mouth and swallowing it to be polite.
People don't tell you that motehrhood hurts. Instagram touts the latest baby gear, Tik Tok shows off the muscle mommies and those cute couples that always seem to have matching outfits. I wanted that. I wanted it so badly. I had everything planned and earmarked. I had researched and prepared. I reckoned that I deserved an A+ in motherhood prep.
But, even still, motherhood hurt. It hurt my body, first and foremost. My body, this thing that I used to be able to control, was now in the possession (it seemed) of another human being and everything was just covered in blood or milk or both. But my soul also hurt. It questioned why I was meant to show off my nursery, why I had to invite guests over for dinner when I myself couldn't even eat with two hands, and why all questions regarding parenting were geared toward me and not my husband who obviously and clearly had a hand in all of this.
I longed for a visit from the carefree twentysomethingyearold with the perky boobs and tiny waist who had the ability to go out dancing just because she could. She never came. I also longed for my inner Mary Poppins to come out, wherever she was, to get my house back in spit spot shape and maybe outfit me for a waist trainer. But she never came either. Only guests came and they all wanted to know how the baby was.
Dear reader, I want to tell you that motherhood doesn't hurt but I would be lying. I want to tell you that it gets easier with time, that you find yourself again and can snap back but maybe you can't. Sure, there are mothers who get back their figures, some that live for Pinterest and home decor (hi), but they are still forever changed. Because motherhood changes you. From the inside out. Literally. You are changed. You are different. And that is ok.
Life is about transformation. We journey through childhood, adolescence, our young adult years, middle age, and then through our golden years. We bud, we bloom, and we fade. You aren't meant to be the same woman that you were when you were twenty, or forty-five, or sixty. You're meant to learn, to grow, and to evolve. That is what motherhood becomes, an evolution of the self.
Looking back at my first postpartum experience (of three...ouch), I wish I had had someone to just sit beside me. Someone who knew what they were talking about. Someone who could tell me what I was doing right and be there for when I needed support. Or maybe just someone to sit with me in silence.
Second Nature Child, Youth & Family Counselling has provided me with the space, with the shingle, to provide these services to you. Together, we can navigate postpartum, motherhood, the ups and the downs. We can talk, eat other people's food (I know you've been delivered some food), and heal physically and psychologically.
Let's explore the new you. Because I'm happy to meet YOU, not just your baby.
Contact me today (or at midnight tonight while you're up) and book a session.
I'll be here,
Anastasia
Comment below: How did motherhood change you?
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