To the mama that’s fighting for your life,
I see you.
You’re struggling, every single day of your life. You’re barely holding on, you’re barely hanging on by a thread. You feel like every day is a struggle; from the moment you wake up in the morning, you are fighting for your life. You are fighting to just survive.
Because you have to. You are somebody’s mother. You are somebody’s warmth and reassurance. You are somebody’s protection and safe-place. You are the snack-maker, the milk giver, the boo-boo kisser. You are the storyteller, the monster fighter, the 24-hour chef, nurse, and cuddler. So you plaster on a smile and march on to your day– all the while wondering deep inside how you will do it all.
You believe that you have to do it all, because that’s what society makes you think. You have to be Super Mom– with your Pinterest inspired crafts, your home-baked goods, and your clever Halloween costumes made from scratch– you have to paint the idea of perfection while you single-handedly are, literally, rotting on the inside. You scrutinize every decision you make because it may have a serious impact on your baby…so you worry. You stress yourself to keep pumping breast milk. You hand make your own baby food although you are exhausted and deep down you know that Gerber is just as good. You scan the internet at odd hours of the night researching terrifying symptoms of scary illnesses that can never ease your anxiety.
Your thoughts consume you and you wonder what is wrong with you. You wonder why you are the only mother on the planet that feels like that. You feel a constant state of loneliness and crippling sadness. Why are you always crying? Why do you feel like you are fighting for your life? These are the best days of your life, obviously, you should be beaming with happiness.
And so you think: surely, there must be something wrong with me, and you bottle up your feelings. No one can know about the inner demons because they will judge, call you a bad mother or worse, take your baby away from you. So you keep those thoughts to yourself because someday, you’ll be back to normal again.
But you don’t get back to yourself, instead, the deep intensifying depression lingers on and increases with time. You continue to go through the motions of life and one day you realize that you are merely not living, but just surviving. You are fighting for your life. You play the scenario out in your head so many times: your babies would be better off without such a bitter and depressed mother; disappearing feels so much better than reality.
I see you, mama, fighting for your life.
You want to share your struggles but you have no one to turn to. Perhaps it’s because you’re afraid to open up, or maybe you don’t know how to begin to describe the feelings that have been festering inside of you. You feel like nobody would even understand, so what’s the point? And why burden other people with your problems and worries?
I want to tell you mama, that every single one of those thoughts have lingered inside of my head. I understand it all, and I want to tell you one very important thing: you are so worth it.
You are worth this life; you are worth the love that is all around you. You are worth being a mother to your babies. You are worth happiness and health. You are so worth it.
So, warrior mama, you are not alone in your struggles and although it may not feel like it right now, there IS a glimmer of light through this horrible darkness. One day, and I pray that it will come soon, you will find the answers you’ve been looking for. You will find your happiness again.
Until then, it’s okay to cry and to feel every blinding emotion of your depression; it’s perfectly okay to not be okay.