The Hardest Thing I’ve Ever Wanted: An Honest Reflection on Motherhood

I have always wanted to be a mom.

Like, ALWAYS.

It was never something I questioned. I never had the thought of, "I don't know if motherhood is for me," or "I'm not sure if I could handle being a mom." I knew. I wanted to be a mom more than anything.

I actually remember going on my first date with my husband and straight up telling him, "if you don't want kids, this isn't even worth our time." Which honestly I'm surprised he didn't run because who does that? Mind you I was also YOUNG at the time.. 21. Acting like I didn't have time to waste.

😂

But I was serious.

Having children was not something I was willing to compromise on. I love kids. I love babies. Being a mom felt like a calling to me. My husband still tells people that story because apparently it's not super normal to bring up your future reproductive plans on a first date, but I really was THAT serious about it.

And let me tell you, being a mom does not disappoint.

It is everything I thought it would be and more. The love you feel for your child? INSANE. Who knew you could love someone SOOOO much.

But I also feel like we are not transparent enough about how absolutely, unbelievably hard it is.

Especially in today's society.

I've worked in healthcare and in the hospital setting for over 10 years. I'm an RN. I was educated. I knew a lot about babies. I built an entire company around support moms. Educating moms.. Teaching how to navigate the 4th trimester.

I thought I understood what motherhood would look like. Let me tell you, NO ONE understands what it's like until they go through it.

I thought I was prepared.

Going through the entire process was such a wake-up call for me.

Conceiving. Fertility struggles. Finally getting pregnant. Prenatal appointments. Making decisions. Trying to educate yourself. Trying to figure out what you're "supposed" to do.

Trying to make the healthiest choices possible. Trying to understand your body and your baby and birth and breastfeeding and interventions and everything in between.

I was shocked by how much I had to teach myself.

And I'm someone who LOVES to learn.

I'm extremely Type A. I'm a perfectionist. If I'm going to do something, I want to do it to the absolute best of my ability.

That's how I am with my business. It's how I am with my life. And it's how I approached becoming a mom (my house being a disaster 24/7 due to my feral 2 year old is really something I can't get used to lol).

With my first pregnancy, I did ALL the things.

I ate the right foods. I exercised. I learned about pelvic floor health. I educated myself on natural birth. I educated myself on interventions. I learned what I wanted, what I didn't want, what could happen, what I could do to prepare.

And honestly, all of that education DID help me.

But it was also exhausting.

Because when you're someone like me, there is always another thing to learn. Another thing you could be doing. Another way you could prepare. Another way you could do it better. Enough is never enough? How exhausting to live in my brain.. let me tell you.

And then postpartum happens.

And suddenly, control just goes out the fucking door.

I wasn't unprepared for the baby. I was unprepared for everything else.

I want to clarify something because I don't want this to come across as though I had a terrible postpartum experience or that I felt completely lost caring for my newborn.

I actually felt really confident in that part of motherhood.

I knew what I was doing. I knew how to care for my baby. I knew how to breastfeed. I knew what to expect developmentally, and I felt so empowered by how much I knew.

I literally teach families how to navigate the newborn stage for a living. I knew the baby stuff.

What I wasn't prepared for was everything else.

The hormonal shift. The identity shift. The guilt. The anxiety. The changes in my marriage, my friendships, and my family dynamics. The loneliness. The feeling that my entire life had changed, but somehow the rest of the world just kept going.

I think I went into motherhood assuming that because I was so prepared for the actual baby, I would feel prepared for motherhood.

And those are TWO VERY DIFFERENT THINGS.

You can know everything there is to know about newborn care and still have absolutely no idea how to navigate becoming a mom.

You can feel confident feeding your baby while simultaneously questioning every other decision you make in your life.

You can love your baby more than anything and still struggle with the life you now have to navigate.

And I think that's the part we don't talk about enough.

Your hormones are all over the place. You're exhausted. You're crying, and sometimes you don't even know why. Your entire life has changed overnight.

And even though I was someone who literally teaches people about the fourth trimester, I was still completely blindsided by what it felt like to actually live it.

I knew about newborns.

I knew about breastfeeding.

I knew about sleep.

I knew what babies needed.

I prepared my husband.

I thought I was prepared.

But nothing prepares you for the 180 that your life takes when you bring that tiny little human home.

And then there's the guilt.

The CONSTANT mom guilt.

Even when you know you're doing a good job.

Even when you're doing everything you possibly can.

Even when you know your baby is loved, safe, fed, cared for, and thriving.

You can still sit down at the end of the day and think:

What could I have done better?

Did I do enough today?

Why didn't I do this differently?

I should have done that.

Maybe I should have played more.

Maybe I should have gotten off my phone.

Maybe I should have taken him outside.

Maybe I should have cooked something healthier.

Maybe I should have been more patient.

It is exhausting.

And then you have boundaries.

You start making decisions that you know are right for your family, but they upset other people.

You feel guilty.

You go on social media and see another mom doing something differently, and suddenly you wonder if you're doing enough.

You finally get two seconds alone, and instead of enjoying them, you feel guilty that you're not doing something productive.

You are exhausted from taking care of everyone else, so you sit down and rot for a little while.

And then you feel guilty for doing absolutely nothing.

It's just this never-ending cycle.

The never-ending juggle.

Something else that I think has made motherhood particularly challenging for me is that I've spent the last two years trying to balance being a full-time mom with running a full-time business.

Lincoln doesn't go to daycare, and we don't have a nanny or regular childcare. My parents help out occasionally, and I'm incredibly grateful for that, but I don't have structured help built into my week.

And honestly, that's a choice I've made.

Being present with my son is really important to me. I'm so grateful that I've been able to build a business that allows me to be home with him while also doing something I genuinely love.

But I don't think I fully understood what that would actually look like in practice.

My days are basically a constant cycle of trying to fit everything in.

Wake up, take care of Lincoln, work during naps, take care of Lincoln, put him to bed, work some more, go to bed, and start over.

And because I'm trying to fit so much into each day, our days are structured. They HAVE to be.

I have a business to run, employees to manage, clients to take care of, a house to maintain, a marriage, friendships, family relationships, and a toddler who needs me.

And I genuinely don't think I've had a day since becoming a mom when I've felt completely caught up in every area of my life.

There's always laundry to do. Emails to answer. Something that needs to be cleaned.

Someone I haven't texted back (sorry to all my friends lol). Something I need to do for my business. Something I could be doing with Lincoln.

Even when I'm doing one thing, I'm thinking about the five other things I should probably be doing.

And I think that's particularly hard for someone like me because I LOVE feeling organized. I love having things done. I love feeling like I'm on top of my life.

Motherhood has been a pretty rude awakening in that department.

Because I can work incredibly hard all day long and still go to bed feeling like I didn't do enough.

And I'm slowly learning that maybe that's just not a realistic expectation anymore.

Maybe there's a point in motherhood where you have to accept that you're not going to be caught up on everything all the time.

I'm still working on that part.

When I finally realized I needed help.

For a long time, I honestly didn't feel like I needed a break from Lincoln.

I loved being with him. I wanted to be with him. I didn't feel this desperate need to have someone else take care of my baby, and I think part of that was because I genuinely enjoyed being his mom.

But as he got older, especially around 18 months, something started to change.

Toddlers are BUSY.

You're not just feeding them, changing them, helping them nap, and doing a little developmental play throughout the day anymore. They're awake for so much longer, and they want to play, explore, learn, move, and interact with you constantly.

You're planning activities, making meals, cleaning up meals, going outside, trying to keep them entertained, teaching them things, and somehow also trying to get your own work done.

And I started to realize that I actually did need a break sometimes.

Not because I didn't want to be with my son. Not because I didn't love spending time with him.

But because being responsible for another human being all day long, while simultaneously trying to manage every other aspect of your life, is exhausting.

And I think I waited until I was already drowning to admit that I needed help.

I had this expectation of myself that I should be able to do everything.

I should be a full-time mom. A good wife. A good friend. A good daughter. A good business owner. A good boss. I should be able to keep my house clean, keep the laundry done, have groceries in the fridge, answer my emails, show up for everyone in my life, and somehow still have something left for myself at the end of the day.

And I don't know why I thought that was a reasonable expectation.

Well, actually, I do. Becacuse that's just me , and that's how I've approached pretty much everything in my life.

But it's not realistic.

And it's something I'm still learning.

I think one of the biggest things I'll do differently with my next baby is ask for help BEFORE I feel like I'm drowning (I can at least hope I'll do this.. we will see when the time comes).

Because I've learned that loving being a mom and needing support are not mutually exclusive.

You can want to spend every day with your kids and still need someone to take over for a few hours.

You can be grateful for the life you've built and still find it incredibly hard.

You can choose to be home with your children and still admit that doing that while running a business is exhausting (doing it while not running a buisness is exhausting so what did I expect? lol).

And you can be a really good mom without doing every single thing yourself.

Nobody tells you how much your relationships will change, too.

I think one of the biggest adjustments for me was realizing how much becoming a mom would change my relationships.

And I don't necessarily mean that in a bad way. I mean that your entire life changes, and suddenly all of your relationships have to adjust to this new version of your life.

Take marriage, for example.

I felt SO connected to my husband throughout my pregnancy. We were learning together, preparing together, and getting excited about becoming parents together.

He supported me through my birth, was essentially my doula, and was everything I could have asked for during that experience.

And when we brought Lincoln home, he was wonderful. He was waking up with us, changing diapers, helping with feeds, cooking, grocery shopping, and doing whatever he could to help.

I think a lot of dads struggle with feeling helpful during the newborn stage, especially when mom is breastfeeding, but from my perspective, he was incredibly helpful.

Then two weeks went by, his paternity leave ended, and he went back to work.

And suddenly, our lives looked really different.

I was home with a newborn, breastfeeding around the clock, recovering, navigating my hormones, and trying to figure out my new identity as a mom and running Simply Sleep.

He went back to work and returned to a routine that, while obviously changed, looked a little more familiar than mine did.

I think that's something that can be really difficult for couples to navigate.

Both people have become parents. Both people's lives have changed. But the day-to-day experience of becoming a mother and becoming a father can look really different.

And I think that can create a disconnect, even when you love each other and are both trying your best.

Suddenly, the things you used to do together require planning. Your time together looks different. Your priorities change. You're both exhausted, and finding time to connect with each other can feel like another thing you need to squeeze into an already packed day.

Add running a business and not having regular childcare into the mix, and it becomes even more complicated.

There are times when I need my husband home on the weekends because that's when I can schedule certain business responsibilities. Things that might have previously been our free time now have to be divided between parenting, work, and whatever else needs to get done.

And that's just our reality.

I think becoming parents forces you to learn how to be partners in a completely different way. You have to figure out how to support each other, communicate your needs, make time for each other, and navigate a life that looks nothing like the one you had before. Without comparing who is more exhausted, who got to go out and do something fun with their friends last, etc.

And I don't think that's something you automatically know how to do just because you love each other.

It's something you have to keep learning. And it's something that we are still learning, and honestly something that is really hard..

And I think it's important to talk about that because you can have a loving relationship and still struggle with the transition to parenthood.

You can be grateful for your partner and still have to work through the changes that come with becoming parents.

You can love your family more than anything and still miss the way life used to look.

All of those things can be true at the same time.

And then there's friendship.

I honestly don't feel like I've lost my friends since becoming a mom. I'm incredibly lucky to have people in my life who love me and support me.

My best friend has been my rock through all of this (shout out to April), and she is the absolute best aunt to Lincoln. Our relationship hasn't changed in the ways that matter. We just don't get to see each other as often as we used to, and I'm so grateful to have someone like her in my life.

But even when your friendships are good, motherhood changes them.

You can't be as spontaneous anymore.

You can't always say yes to dinner after work or decide at the last minute that you want to go somewhere. You have to think about naps, meals, bedtime, childcare, and whether you have enough energy to shower and leave the house in the first place.

And if your friends don't have kids, it can be hard for them to understand why something that sounds so simple requires so much planning.

Sometimes you have to say no to things you genuinely want to do.

And after a while, people might stop asking as often. Not necessarily because they don't care, but because you've said no so many times that they assume you can't make it.

Meanwhile, you're sitting at home wishing you could see them.

It's a weird feeling.

You love your child. You love your life. You want to be present with your family.

But you also miss your friends. You miss having the freedom to make plans without considering a million other things first.

And when you don't have regular childcare, making time for those relationships becomes even more complicated.

You have to find someone to watch your child, coordinate schedules, and decide whether you want to use the limited help you have available to go out with friends or for something else you need to do.

It's not that you don't want to see people. It's that making it happen takes a lot more effort than it used to.

And I think that can be incredibly lonely.

The part I don't think I talk about enough.

Something that made all of this even harder for me was the postpartum anxiety I experienced, especially during Lincoln's first year.

I struggled a lot with the idea of anyone other than my husband or me watching him.

Even when I knew logically that it was okay to have someone else care for him, I had a really hard time actually doing it.

And that meant that even when I had opportunities to go out, spend time with friends, or do something for myself, I often struggled to take them, or couldn't enjoy them if I did take them.

I would feel guilty. I would worry. I would convince myself that I should just stay home.

And I think I isolated myself more than I realized at the time.

It's something that has gotten easier as Lincoln has gotten older. As he's become more communicative and I've become more comfortable with other people caring for him, I've felt more confident stepping away.

But looking back, I realize how much my own anxiety contributed to that feeling of loneliness.

I wanted to see my friends. I wanted time with my husband. I wanted to do things outside of motherhood.

But I also had this overwhelming feeling that I should be with my baby. That nobody can give him what I can.

And I think that's something a lot of moms can relate to.

You can desperately need a break and simultaneously feel guilty for taking one.

You can want to spend time with your friends and then feel anxious when you actually leave your child.

You can know that having time for yourself is healthy and important and still struggle to give yourself permission to do it.

And sometimes, those feelings make it even harder to ask for the support you need.

I'm still working through that.

But I think it's important to acknowledge that not every challenge of motherhood is something you can solve by better time management or getting more organized.

Sometimes, there's an emotional component that you have to work through, too (hello therapy).

Motherhood is beautiful. And it's really, really hard.

I don't say any of this because I think motherhood is bad.

Quite the opposite.

Motherhood is beautiful.

Raising children is beautiful.

There are moments that make my heart feel like it could actually explode. There are moments where I look at my son and genuinely cannot believe that I get to be his mom.

But motherhood is also the hardest thing I have ever done.

And I think both things can be true.

I think it's okay to admit that.

I think it's okay to miss your old life sometimes.

It's okay to mourn parts of who you were before you had kids.

It's okay to miss having more freedom.

It's okay to miss being able to leave the house without packing a small suitcase.

It's okay to miss having time for yourself.

It's okay to miss your marriage feeling different.

It's okay to miss your friends.

It's okay to miss quiet.

NONE OF THAT MEANS YOU DON'T LOVE YOUR CHILDREN (I have to remind myself this, daily) .

It doesn't mean you don't want them.

It doesn't mean you're ungrateful.

It just means your life changed.

And that's a really big thing to adjust to.

I think motherhood asks us to become incredibly selfless. To give so much of ourselves to these tiny humans. To make sure they're fed, loved, safe, nourished, cared for, and raised well.

And it is completely okay to admit that doing that every single day can leave you 120% drained.

I'm two years into being a mom now, and I'm only recently starting to feel a little bit more like myself again.

The anxiety isn't as consuming.

The guilt doesn't feel quite as loud.

I'm figuring out how to make space for myself again.

How to make space for my marriage.

How to make space for my friendships.

How to run a business and be a mom and still remember that I'm a person outside of those roles.

And I'm still figuring it out.

I don't think there is some magical point where you suddenly have motherhood completely figured out.

Maybe that's the point.

Maybe motherhood isn't something we're supposed to perfect.

Maybe we're just supposed to live it.

To love our kids.

To give them the best childhood we can.

To take care of ourselves when we can.

To ask for help when we need it.

And to stop beating ourselves up for being human.

These things are easy for me to sit here and type out... but harder to live in that realitity.

So if you're a mom sitting there wondering why you're exhausted when you LOVE your kids so much…

If you've ever cried because you feel like you're not doing enough…

If you've ever desperately needed a break and then felt guilty for wanting one…

If you've ever missed your old life…

If you've ever felt incredibly lonely while simultaneously never being alone…

I just want you to know:

You're not alone.

Motherhood can be beautiful and overwhelming.

It can be everything you ever wanted and still be really, really hard.

And I think we're allowed to talk about both.

This is my experience.. I'm sure other moms experiences are different. I hope that someone can relate to this, and maybe feel a little less alone in all of the feelings and changes that come with motherhood.

-Sasha