Ah, motherhood. It’s beautiful. It’s messy. It’s wonderful. It’s so so so hard. It’s an attachment and bond like no other. Nothing else in this world comes close, and I’m not sure it ever will.

I so wish I’d been better educated going into motherhood. I read books and took classes but it was all based on a very idealistic (ahem, fantasy) situation which in real life turns out to be so much more nuanced and generational than anything I’d ever dreamed up.

And I TRULY thought no one was more prepared for motherhood than I was. I hadn’t known about or let alone considered my own traumas, triggers, and compensatory strategies. I hadn’t even begun to peel back the layers to understand where within me these deep fears and visceral reactions originated! I so wish I’d had more of THAT kind of training and education and less about feeding and diapering.

Motherhood should be a great equalizer but initially for first time moms I think we feel more shame and guilt from how much time we spend (unknowingly) on the things that ultimately mean little and how little time we spend on the things that matter and shape our child’s future worldview. Yes, sleep deprivation is hard, and a bad latch can hurt, but what’s really tough about this job is finding out I’m triggered by crying as a mom (did you know babies cry?!) or that events from my own childhood held unmet needs and stunted my emotional capacity. Or that hm, homeschooling in a pandemic is hard and oh wait do I have ADHD too?!

Education on these topics and less on that first week at home feels so much more beneficial in the long run. It was/is so much more than cute nursery decorations and baby showers/gender reveal parties…but then again I wonder if my twenty-something self was ready to hear the hard stuff…

The performance reviews for this job don’t come til the end. 🤷 I think that’s yet another thing that makes it so hard. #midnightthoughts

Thanks for reading.