A lot of people would say differently, but surely Thomas Paine was actually talking about moments of mothering mayhem when he penned the words, “These are the times that try men’s souls.” Right? I’m sure of it.
My battle with Postpartum Depression was so hard and all-consuming that it shook my belief in myself as a mother. I hope that if you are a new mother with PPD, you will reach out for medical help without worrying about stigma or social pressure after reading about my experience.
Caring for very young children day in and day out is, quite simply, one of the most heroic things that happens on a daily, widespread basis. In truth, it makes me want to call out from the housetops, “Hats off to you, young mothers!”
The luminous love I feel for my baby, the gift I can offer her through the simple act of walking her to sleep, does not burn me—it gives me a warm, glowing happiness I refuse to share. I know it will elude me soon enough.
Ever feel like you’re spending the “best years” of your life living in chaos? Here’s a humorous experience to which you can DEFINITELY relate–as well as some food for thought on your worth as a mother.
Motherhood isn’t about being, it’s about becoming. At each stage of motherhood, we are beginners. We don’t just become mothers when we give birth; we become mothers as we trudge through all the trial and error, the self-doubt, the worry, the overwhelmingly hard days, and the joy, too.
I would ask myself, “But how? How can I make it every day with pain that is so deep and dark? How do I keep going?” I soon realized I did not have to take it day by day. I could simply do minute by minute, slowly working through the cycle of grief while holding onto hope for a better tomorrow.
In today’s podcast, author Rachel Nielson reads four of her articles about concrete ways that she finds hope and fulfillment as a mother, even in the hardest of times.
I spent most of my childhood caring for baby dolls as if they were the real deal and dreaming up lists of baby names I would someday use. Throw in an endless amount of negative pregnancy tests and dreams suddenly turn into something dangerous: disappointment.
During the weeks leading up to Elijah’s birth, I was terrified the adoption would fall through, and for good reason—we’d experienced several adoption heartbreaks before. I wanted to make something for the baby, but I was nervous to start in case we lost him.
In our wildest dreams we couldn’t have conjured up the twists and turns our life journey would take us through. While the loss of our firstborn scarred us in some lifelong ways, it was the catalyst for so many blessings.
I was more tired than I could have ever dreamed of being. It was so hard. I felt alone in the night and like a walking zombie all day. My rose-colored glasses were shattered, but I was left with a few tools I didn’t know I would need.