Self-care

I’ve always been hard on myself, and this torturous feeling of failure became exacerbated after I became a mother. Most recently, my two month old baby girl, Anahata, who had been gaining weight beautifully (“she’s a bit of an overachiever,” as her pediatrician would say), suddenly began leveling out. Could it be a tongue tie? Could it be reflux? Maybe both? Or perhaps it’s neither of these and she’s just naturally settling into her own growth curve? Regardless, as her only source of nutrition, I naturally blamed myself. As her mother, how could I not know to fix this? Literally, my only job right now is to feed and care for an infant, and I’m failing to even do that.

I know I’m not doing nothing. In fact, we just came back from the pediatrician’s office a few hours ago to figure out next steps. We’re heading to the ENT next week to get a second opinion on whether she has a tongue tie. I’m cutting dairy to see if that makes a difference in her reflux. I know I’m being proactive, and I know I’m doing my best, but I can’t shake the feeling that it just isn’t enough. That I’m a failure. Why is it that I can’t be more kind to myself? 

Why is it that we (as mothers) all can’t be more kind to ourselves? 

There is an expectation for mothers to take care of their children, and often, that means being the primary caregiver. But there is also societal pressure to perform and excel at the same level as our male counterparts in the workplace as well. How can we possibly do both? Is it okay to prioritize one over the other? 

Ahimsa is a common Hindu term that translates to “nonviolence.” Some think of ahimsa is referring to the treatment of others, but it can be applied to all aspects of life—including self-love. In a way, self-love is the most important facet of ahimsa because the same light and spirit that lives in us lives in all of those around us. How can we possibly serve others compassionately unless we recognize the need to care for ourselves? 

And what does that self-care look like? Well, for starters, we must learn to forgive ourselves, and accept that we cannot be perfect. Isn’t that half the battle? Whether the laundry is piling up or hasn’t been folded, the sink is full of dirty dishes, or you’ve been staring at the same spit-up stain on your sheets that you didn’t bother changing after a feeding session several days ago, it’s okay. Is everyone alive and in one piece? (check) Do you have something to eat tonight? (check, Uber Eats on the way) The other stuff can wait. This is a challenge for me, but I’m slowly learning. I’ll take my extra hug and story time with the 2 year old or taking an extra nap over folding laundry. 

Finding what sparks joy in us (no need to channel your inner-Marie Kondo, though) is critical, too, whether that might be going out with friends, partaking in a certain hobby, taking occasional bubble baths, or even working out from time to time. I’ve been kind of big on this one. I find that having some sort of outlet actually makes me a better parent. It brings more joy into what I’m doing with the kids, simply because I’ve had time to recharge and recover from being beat down during the daily grind. 

Finally, finding good girl friends seems important. Surrounding yourself with a group of people who truly understand your daily struggles as a parent may make things seem less insurmountable.

All this is easy to say, more difficult to put into practice. I struggle with all of these things and sometimes don’t even know where to start. It all seems so overwhelming at times. But, I’m taking things one day at a time, one afternoon at a time, one feeding at a time. Maybe I’ll never be able to strike that balance between self-care and being a mom (and even if I did, it’s not likely to last), but for the time being, I’m going to try to love myself a little more, and forgive myself just a little bit more.