Motherhood is lonely
Without a doubt, motherhood is lonely. No one will dispute this. Especially in the early days when you're struggling to get more than a few hours of sleep and are walking around like a zombie with dried up spit up and breastmilk stains all over your clothing (affirmative over here). And then there's dealing with your own recovery, and the fact that our current medical system does virtually nothing to help support women through the postpartum period. Through it all, we change diapers, we kiss boo-boos, we read stories, we make dinners, and we feed our babies. We do our part in making sure household chores get done. We go to work and pay the bills.
We do it all because we have to. And we want to, of course. We WANT our children to be nourished and cared for, and we want our family to build memories together, but we also need an outlet so that we feel like normal people when we parent. We also need some source to vent our frustrations. Although my husband is amazing and does in fact listen and offer support when I feel overwhelmed and batty, or even when I feel like I've had a good day (for which I'm more grateful than I can possibly express), there's a part of him that will never truly understand what I'm going through--simply because he's a man. Women just process things differently--maybe it's the hormones or the societal pressures or all of it, but it's true. There is where the mama village kicks in. In my 2.5 years of parenting, I have found it incredibly difficult to find a village of ladies who truly understand and are there for me. Sure, I have close friends who are great and occasionally check on me. But I just haven't found a group of ladies that I can openly talk about the highs and lows of motherhood--whether it's finally finding time to work out before the kids get up, or trash talking the bagger at the grocery store who asked about my due date FOUR MONTHS after giving birth, or hysterically laughing about the first time I peed my pants without even realizing it (yes, that implies that it's happened multiple times).
Why is it that we don't openly talk about these things? How do you find your mama village? When do you even have time to make or talk with friends?
We do it all because we have to. And we want to, of course. We WANT our children to be nourished and cared for, and we want our family to build memories together, but we also need an outlet so that we feel like normal people when we parent. We also need some source to vent our frustrations. Although my husband is amazing and does in fact listen and offer support when I feel overwhelmed and batty, or even when I feel like I've had a good day (for which I'm more grateful than I can possibly express), there's a part of him that will never truly understand what I'm going through--simply because he's a man. Women just process things differently--maybe it's the hormones or the societal pressures or all of it, but it's true. There is where the mama village kicks in. In my 2.5 years of parenting, I have found it incredibly difficult to find a village of ladies who truly understand and are there for me. Sure, I have close friends who are great and occasionally check on me. But I just haven't found a group of ladies that I can openly talk about the highs and lows of motherhood--whether it's finally finding time to work out before the kids get up, or trash talking the bagger at the grocery store who asked about my due date FOUR MONTHS after giving birth, or hysterically laughing about the first time I peed my pants without even realizing it (yes, that implies that it's happened multiple times).
Why is it that we don't openly talk about these things? How do you find your mama village? When do you even have time to make or talk with friends?
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