I want to share some things that are hard right now, and I want to share just to share. I don’t want solutions or comfort or rescue. I don’t want to be told it’s going to get better. Motherhood isn’t something you’re rescued from, it’s something you evolve into. I think every mother gets that it’s going to get better, but that doesn’t obviate the present struggle. We persevere because we know it will get better and because it’s never all bad.
So I’m going to share hard things, because sharing makes me feel not alone in them. And honestly, that’s all I really need.
It’s hard now that Aria has realized she’s not alone in the world, and she cries for company
It’s hard listening to her cry when I’m in the shower, feeling her yearning for relief while wanting so deeply to relax and wash the stress away
It’s hard when I use a bottle to help her go to sleep and then I have to pump anyways before I can go to sleep
It’s hard when I don’t produce enough milk to meet the needs of my child
It’s hard watching myself gain weight and not knowing if that means I’m healthier or it means I’m consuming too much fat or it means I’m taking too much cortisol for the Addison’s disease
It’s hard not being aloud to worry about my weight because people will chastise me for worrying
It’s hard owning only one pair of pants I fit into and not knowing what to do about it
It’s hard going for a wonderfully liberating and exhilarating light jog with the stroller yesterday, and feeling sick all night with Addison’s symptoms as a consequence of my freedom
It’s hard that having company and companionship is always a trade off for rest
It’s hard when a night’s sleep consists of four times waking up. Every hour and a half of sleep is earned after an hour and a half of work taking care of the baby. The nights are marathons and I wake up exhausted some mornings and just want to sleep.
It’s hard that my body doesn’t make cortisol, so I have to take it three times a day, making it almost impossible to sleep during the day
It’s hard seeing the pain in DH’s eyes when he leaves me in the morning, rather than a look of confidence. I just want him to see me and think I have it all together, rather than looking helpless like there’s just no way for him to rescue me from my plight.
It’s hard feeling exhausted when I just want to enjoy this precious time with my daughter before I go back to work
It’s hard desperately wanting to lay down, but needing to help Aria get to sleep first