It's a beautiful morning! As I lie in the bed, tangled in the sheets, I feel it—mom guilt—a heavy burden pressing down on my chest.
I knew motherhood would be a little tough, but not like this. From the outside, it seemed like a picturesque journey filled with cuddles and kisses. But the reality is far more complex, a tangled web of emotions! It started the moment I held my precious baby girl in my arms for the first time. As I gazed into her innocent eyes, I felt a surge of love unlike anything I had ever known. But beneath that love lurked something darker—doubt. Was I eating the right foods? Exercising enough? Was I prepared to be a good mother? The questions were endless, and so was the guilt.
Bringing her into this world was the most beautiful moment of my life, but it also marked the beginning of a constant battle with guilt. From the moment she was born, I felt the weight of responsibility crushing down on me. Was I holding her right? Was I feeding her enough? Was I giving her everything she needed to thrive? Every choice I make is accompanied by a chorus of voices—society's expectations, my own insecurities, the relentless comparison to other mothers who seem to have it all figured out.
And then there are the moments when I falter, when exhaustion overwhelms me and frustration bubbles to the surface. When I snap at my baby for crying or long for just a moment of solitude. (or some time to get office work done). This one hits the hardest, is anything more important than my baby, work is surely not my top most priority when she is playing the role of a nurturer.But that doesn't mean that, that work is useless. Money matters so that you can fulfill your baby’s needs.
I scroll through social media, where perfect mothers with their perfect babies smile back at me from the screen. I wonder how they do it, how they seem to have it all together while I struggle to keep my head above water. The guilt weighs heavy on my shoulders, a constant reminder of my perceived inadequacies.
But amidst the chaos and the doubt, there are moments of clarity. Moments when I hold my baby close and feel the warmth of her tiny body against mine. Moments when her laughter fills the room, chasing away the shadows of guilt that linger in the corners of my mind.
In those moments, I realize that maybe—just maybe—being a good mother doesn't mean being perfect. Maybe it means showing up, day after day, even when I feel like I'm failing. Maybe it means forgiving myself for the moments of weakness and embracing the messy, beautiful chaos of motherhood.
So, I take a deep breath and untangle myself from the sheets. I may be weighed down by guilt, but I refuse to let it define me. I am a mother, imperfect and flawed, but filled with a love that knows no bounds. And in the end, that's all that truly matters.