November 15, 2023
Warmlight Photography
During my pregnancy with my first son, Max, I felt radiant. The moment I discovered I was expecting, I envisioned his name and knew he’d be a boy. A close friend captured beautiful maternity photos of my growing belly, and I cherished those moments, reading and singing to him, hoping for a joyous entry into this world.
However, not everyone around me shared that excitement. My childless friends often voiced their belief that parents used their little ones as excuses to leave gatherings early or to turn in by 8 p.m. I was determined not to be that kind of mother.
When my long and arduous labor culminated in Max’s arrival at 1:15 a.m. on a Monday, I was utterly exhausted. Holding him for the first time, I was struck by how soft and delicate he was. He was indeed perfect, with a cute little nose and his father’s chin. Yet, I didn’t immediately feel like a mother.
As time passed, I realized that it wasn’t just fatigue that held me back; it was fear. In my quest to prove my friends wrong, I said yes to everything and everyone, but I didn’t truly embrace motherhood. Visitors began arriving at the hospital mere hours after Max’s birth, and just 36 hours later, I hosted a gathering for our small group of friends. I broke down into tears from sleep deprivation by midweek, yet that weekend, I bundled Max in a wrap and took him to church, determined not to be seen as someone hiding behind their baby.
Seven weeks later, I returned to work, having no choice but to leave Max and his father asleep at home. I didn’t cry; I simply smiled at his photos, afraid that if I started, I wouldn’t stop. I was scared to become the emotional mother who might lose herself.
After two years of cramming motherhood into the margins of my life, I came to a realization: motherhood had irrevocably changed me. I could no longer maintain my previous pace while nurturing my child. I had to accept the loss of my pre-parenting life and acknowledge that the grief of missing moments would allow me to fully appreciate the joy they brought. Those moments became the reward for all the hard work that came with parenting.
Finally, I embraced the vulnerability and gentleness of motherhood. When we became pregnant with our second child, I made a conscious decision to prioritize my family. I said no to anything that didn’t revolve around my children.
Labor with my second child began on Holy Thursday, and as my partner, Jake, and Max worked on Easter eggs in the kitchen, I found comfort in stillness. I breathed deeply, smiled, and prayed, letting the pain wash over me without moving from my spot. The experience was serene and joyful.
Breastfeeding with my second didn’t go as planned, but I sought help, and the other mothers brought meals. I declined hospital visitors and created a peaceful space for my family. He ate, slept, and I rested, and gradually, I began to feel like a mother.
Returning to work this time didn’t bring tears because I had cultivated gentleness and nurturing within myself. Embracing motherhood was about allowing myself the freedom to prioritize my children.
So, dear mothers, here’s your permission slip from me: Trust your instincts and do what feels right for you and your child. After giving birth, you are free to decline visitors and well-wishers. Just because someone brings you food doesn’t mean you owe them lengthy conversations or time with your baby. No one has the right to hold or touch your child without your consent.
You are not obligated to feel guilty about missing events if you’re not ready to face the world yet. Cherish those quiet moments with your infant; they are fleeting and precious. I regret letting the opinions of those without children dictate my parenting choices. I wish I hadn’t cared about leaving parties early; children have bedtimes, and I needed rest. Surround yourself with supportive friends, and don’t hesitate to set limits.
The boundaries we create protect those we love, and as mothers, we define who enters our space. If you find it difficult to say no, enlist your partner or a trusted friend to help communicate your boundaries. It’s perfectly alright to prioritize your well-being and that of your child.
So, mamas, here’s your chance to take a break. Stay in, accept meals, and send visitors away. Enjoy those moments of cuddling and hibernation. The world will carry on without you for a while, and we’ll be here when you’re ready to return.
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Summary:
This piece offers new mothers a heartfelt message about the importance of prioritizing their well-being and embracing motherhood without external pressures. It emphasizes the right to set boundaries, enjoy quiet moments with their infants, and seek help when needed.