Here’s the thing I can’t really stand about society: There’s little freedom to struggle and say what needs to be said, say what needs to heard, and express the truth of your heart, and not be judged for it.
I have found this to be true in many avenues in life, but none more so than the pressure of being a new mommy. Here’s what the world thinks and wants mommies everywhere to portray: “This child came out of me, I loved him the instant I saw him, my heart is so full, being a mommy is amazing, ect”. Now, don’t get me wrong, I did love Wilson the moment I saw him, but I had loved him for a while, so it wasn’t this intense, all powerful dream sequence or anything. And being a mom is amazing. Sometimes, it’s amazingly fun, amazingly enjoyable, amazingly wonderful. Sometimes, it’s amazingly exhausting, amazingly annoying, amazingly overwhelming, amazingly difficult. Sometimes, I just want to be amazingly selfish and reclaim the right to my own boobies!
It’s hard to be a mom. It’s hard work to know that an entire other person relies on you, in the literal sense. He needs me to survive, I am his source of food. Collin and I are his source of warmth, comfort, cleanliness, and well-being. (No pressure there!)
And I just wonder if other moms feel the same way. Does anybody else get frustrated when you just fed, burped, changed, held and rocked your baby and they still fuss? Does anyone else get mad in the middle of the night because you’re awake? Does anyone else get scared that the pressure of raising a child, keeping your husband happy, and being fulfilled in your personal life might just be too much? Does anyone else struggle with the constant giving up of yourself, your body, and your time?
Here’s the thing I wish more moms would say to each other. I wish they would just say “Yes, I feel that way.” or “I totally felt that way when my kids were newborns and eventually they will sleep.” or “I don’t feel that way, but I can see how someone could because mommies work hard”.More than anything, I wish they would just say to each other “Good work. You are doing a great job.”
Because you are. Don’t forget it.
Kacy Davis 
I shared your post with the mamas in our church. Proud of you! Thankful for you your gifted pen (er, fingertips?). Grace to you, sister!
I do feel that way I tell mom’s all the time can we please stop sugar coating it. Mommy hood is rewarding buts it’s rewarding because we are survivors of exhaustion, overwelmingness, and being everybody’s everything. Tell it like it is and support the mommies in learning.
I will be the first to tell you that being a mom is hard, tiring, even soul-crushing at times. You’re going to be sleep-deprived, wanting a shower, and it’s a really tough transition to going from having your own needs in mind to having a baby whose needs trump yours almost 100% of the time. I had it somewhat easier in some respects because mine was 11 weeks early and in the NICU for the first two months so I got to ease into stuff like bathing and feeding him gradually. (This is, of course, in the midst of the PPD and PTSD from my son’s birth so believe me, I did not get off easy.)
What I can tell you and what I tell all my new mom friends is that you do get into a rhythm that works for you where your kiddo will take a nap at a certain time and you can grab a shower, mop the floor, clean the bathroom, or whatever and the kid will (usually) learn to sleep through the night by a certain gestational age. If you have a kid with special needs (*raises hand*), the normal milestones will take much longer but the celebration will be 10 times more awesome when they hit them because of the struggle to get there.
My Catholic friends talk of our job being to help our kiddos to heaven and I think any chance I have of ending up there myself has to do with my son Daniel who is purging EVERY OUNCE of selfishness out of me and who is teaching me patience and how to have compassion. (Believe me, I’m definitely in need of those two things.) Being his mama has also put some steel in my spine that wasn’t there 6 years ago when he was born. (Hell hath no wrath like me when you deny my child some services he needs for his development.)
My $0.02.