The Unspoken Side of Motherhood

Before I became a mom, I had a lot of ideas about what motherhood might be like. I was wrong about a lot of them. I expected it to be hard, people always talk about sleepless nights and messy houses, but no one really prepared me for just how hard it would be. Maybe it's because we all choose to stay in our own lanes, or we're afraid to tell other people the truth. Or we're worried about how it will come across. I'm writing this post in the hopes of breaking some of the stigma behind the hard aspects of motherhood that no one really talks about.

Pregnancy Wasn’t Magical for Me

Both of my pregnancies were physically brutal. I had Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG) each time, which is extreme nausea and vomiting that lasted well into my second trimester. I lost around 10 pounds during both pregnancies and could barely keep anything down. Even when the nausea faded a bit, I never felt well. It was one thing after another, migraines, aches and pains, insomnia, relentless heartburn. The first pregnancy alone was enough to make me think, “I can’t do this again.” They say that women forget about the downside of pregnancy, maybe I'm the only one, but I remember it vividly. I destinctly remember feeling like a complete stranger in my own body and just wanting it to be over.

My First Baby Rocked My World

When my first daughter Remy was born, I had no idea what to expect. People said the early newborn days would be hard, and they were. I got about two weeks of that sleepy, snuggly newborn bliss before everything changed. She started cluster feeding for 48 hours straight and decided that she didn't need to sleep. She wanted nothing to do with pacifers, hated swaddles, despised sleeping on her back, and seemed to fight everything. (now that she's gotten a bit older I think this was a personality trait that I'm sure will take her far in life, but in that moment it sucked) I remember reading that newborns sleep 16–20 hours a day. Mine slept maybe 8? In short, unpredictable bursts. I felt like I was losing my mind.

Breastfeeding Bond, Bottle Refusal

We had a strong breastfeeding bond, which was beautiful, but also complicated. When I went back to work, I discovered something no one warned me about: some babies refuse bottles. My daughter was one of them. I felt helpless. Thankfully, my husband eventually got her to take one, but I was still up multiple times each night. I went back to work exhausted and emotionally drained.

Eventually, we did sleep train her, but even that was a challenge. She cried for over an hour, multiples nights. Even after sleep training, she still woke up at least twice a night until she was about 9 months old, and didn’t consistently sleep through the night until she was 1. I remember thinking that I must be doing something wrong. I would see other moms have babies that were much younger sleeping through the night. It sucked.

By her first birthday, I was completely depleted. I didn’t feel like myself. My body didn’t feel like mine, and most days I didn’t even look forward to weekends, they just meant more work with no break. It was an overwhleming feeling of loss of my former self and my former life. The loss of freedom! No one really warned me about the loss of freedom, it was a lot. Being able to do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. For those of you without kids, don't take that freedom for granted.

Clingy Love

Remy was also very attached to me. I couldn’t pee without her crying outside the door. She would lie on the ground to look underneath the crack in the door and beg for me. Which would then turn into hysterical crying. As sweet as it sounds now, in the moment it was exhausting. I was touched out, overstimulated, and constantly needed.

Baby #2 and a New Layer of Chaos

By the time Remy turned 3, I hesitantly agreed to have one more. I was finally feeling somewhat normal again, and had a good balance. I didn't want to ruin that, and I had admittedly been putting it off baby #2 for awhile. Although I didn't feel ready, it started to become more of an excuse, and something that I probably wouldn't ever feel ready for. I didn't want to wait much longer because I didn't want the age gap to be too big, so I took the leap.

It was shocking how quickly I was triggered from the PTSD from my first pregnancy and early motherhood. I went into my second pregnancy with a lot of fear. Unfortunately, it was even harder physically. Everything came back: the sickness, the emotional heaviness, the constant discomfort.

Once the second baby arrived, things got even more chaotic. Alyx was easier, maybe due to temperament or maybe just because I knew what to expect, but balancing two was a new kind of hard. My older daughter struggled emotionally. She felt left out and abandoned, and her need for me only intensified.

This time when I returned to work, I was hopeful that I could manage it all, but after two months of constant night wakings, chaotic mornings, and emotional meltdowns, I broke. I had to step away. I wasn’t functioning well in any area of my life.

Quitting My Job Wasn’t the Solution but It Was a Start

Leaving work didn’t magically make life easier, but it did remove one giant weight off my shoulders. I no longer felt like I was being torn in a million directions. I could focus on just surviving, being present for my kids without constantly failing somewhere else.

Motherhood Isn’t Always Joyful

Don't get me wrong, I love my children deeply, but I think it's important to be honest that I don’t enjoy every day of motherhood. Some days are draining and relentless. Some days, I feel guilty for not being more grateful. What I’ve learned is this: two things can be true. You can love your kids more than life itself and still struggle with the daily reality of raising them.

If you’re in it right now, tired, touched out, and hanging on until bedtime, you’re not alone.