I often find myself oscillating between feeling like a terrible mother and a fantastic one. Some days, I’m a calm nurturer, while on others, I’m an overwhelming storm of frustration. I adore being a mother, yet I sometimes dread the daily grind of parenting—those are two distinctly different experiences, one being an action and the other a deeper state of existence.
Just this morning, my boys surprised me with breakfast in bed while the youngest entertained me with a tune on his silly piano. Those moments of love and laughter encapsulate the joys of motherhood. Yet, in the past week, I’ve been consumed by worry. My youngest has developed a fear of vomiting—emetophobia—that has led him to refuse food altogether, and I’m left fretting about his health and future. How do I navigate this? Am I making it worse by ignoring it, or by giving it too much attention? Meanwhile, my eldest is glued to his screen, lost in YouTube and video games, and I’m left wondering if his behavior is typical or concerning.
I know I might sound a bit unhinged, but this constant back-and-forth between love and anxiety has become my norm. Motherhood transforms every aspect of our lives: our bodies, our feelings, and even our perceptions of ourselves. The internal agreements we once had with ourselves often crumble under the weight of these new responsibilities.
The relentless questioning takes its toll. My oldest seems to inquire about every rule I set: Why do I have to sleep early? Why must I eat my vegetables? With every question, I second-guess my decisions, amplifying my self-doubt.
Sometimes, motherhood can feel isolating—deeply so. We worry we are alone in our struggles, and admitting our difficulties feels like confessing we aren’t cut out for this role. So, we retreat—standing on the outskirts of the playground, sneaking out of social gatherings to avoid exposing our fears: Am I doing enough? Am I good enough?
Despite having a Master’s degree and a thriving career as a copywriter, there are days when I feel like that timid girl who can hardly believe she’s a mother. How can the seemingly mundane tasks of parenting be so overwhelmingly difficult? I know it’s the exhaustion, the constant self-doubt, and the relentless learning curve that never seems to level out.
Yet, as I watch my boys, I feel that conflicting mix of love and uncertainty tugging at my heart. This morning, as I listened to my youngest play “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” on his piano and my oldest proudly presented me with a drawing of myself in a crown, my heart swelled. The struggles I face are a testament to how much I care, and that’s what makes me a good mother—even on my worst days.
It’s perfectly fine to feel torn between loving your child and sometimes feeling frustrated with them. It signifies that you truly care. You’re not alone; many mothers experience these feelings. So, I’ll cherish those rare moments when things feel easier, as they provide the energy I need to push through the tougher times. Caring deeply for my children is the best gift I can offer them.
If you’re interested in more insights on motherhood, check out our other blog post here. For further reading on related parenting topics, you might find this resource beneficial, and for a broader understanding of artificial insemination, you can refer to this excellent Wikipedia entry.
In summary, motherhood is an intricate dance of love, doubt, and resilience. Embracing this complexity is part of what makes the journey worthwhile.