By 
Parenting is one of those things you can’t fully comprehend until you’re in the midst of it. Before my child arrived, I imagined having a baby would be peaceful, maybe even a break from my previously fast-paced life. How naive. The moment you hold your baby, you’re already behind, tired from either surgery or labor—or sometimes both—and without a guide for what’s sure to be the most demanding yet rewarding role of your life. Add in a flood of hormones, sleep deprivation, and physical discomfort, and it can feel overwhelming.
I always thought I’d naturally excel as a mother from day one; that the bond with my baby would instantly create a bubble of love. Reality proved to be vastly different. Looking back, I wish I had asked for more support early on, but I’ve never been great at reaching out. To me, asking for help felt like admitting failure.
When the health visitor came by in those early days, I had been crying all morning, overtired and struggling with hormone shifts. Yet, instead of showing her my reality, I masked my exhaustion, put on makeup, and assured her everything was fine. Once she left, I resumed crying. An irrational fear plagued me—admitting how I truly felt might lead to losing my precious baby.
Being a new mom is challenging; it’s a shock to both the mind and body. I had always been capable, and suddenly, I wasn’t.
One day, when my child was six weeks old, all I wanted was to remove my nail polish and hang the laundry, but I didn’t accomplish either task. When my partner asked if I’d had a good day, I broke down. I felt like I was failing at something countless other women seemed to handle with ease. My mother arrived like Mary Poppins, and with her support, things became a little more manageable.
In those first few weeks, I’d bake for visitors and pretend everything was wonderful. What I should have done was only allow visitors who were ready to pitch in, feed me, or make their own tea. A friend who lived nearby came by when my baby was two months old and told me to leave him with her and take a few hours for myself each week. She insisted, and it was a blessing. I went swimming, read non-baby magazines, and slowly began to reconnect with myself. Now, I try to offer the same support to friends who are new mothers because I understand how vital that help is.
While we may not all have a village, we have people who care about us and would be glad to help. Don’t hesitate to ask—it’s not a sign of failure. You’re doing amazing.
