Books, movies, ideologies—that’s what we find on the motherhood shelf. Beautiful images, a portrayal that isn’t reality. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always wanted a family, children. I watched the movie *Cheaper by the Dozen* so many times. The beautiful, big family, full of love—even with twelve kids, it looks easy when you watch it. I wanted just as many—it was my dream! For as long as I can remember, the one concrete thing I was absolutely sure of was that I wanted to become a mom. Why? Because it’s beautiful: they go to school, you work, dinner around the table, homework, and bedtime. A simple, idealized routine! That’s not what being a mom is like!
Diapers, crying, sleep deprivation, crazy schedules, daycare, work, juggling everything, appointments, and so on. I hit a wall—a huge wall! After my C-section, I decided that was it—my daughter would be an only child! I went from twelve to one! What a huge change! I didn’t want to go through that again—the contractions, the pushing, the C-section, the exhaustion—but most of all, the judgment. It’s crazy how good women are at that! Breastfeeding, co-sleeping, bottles, daycare, purees, baby-led weaning, and so much more. Because of all that judgment and those ideologies, I felt so guilty—I still feel guilty!
For a month, I didn’t hold my daughter—Dad did everything. I stayed there, close to them, yet so far away at the same time. I couldn’t bring myself to believe that I was now a mother, that she loved me, or worse, that I loved her. Then one day, my partner had to go to his radio show. I was stressed out; I was crying with her—I didn’t want to stay with her. A few days later, I panicked; I wanted to leave—I didn’t want her. If he went to work, I didn’t know where I’d be. My life had just changed forever; I didn’t want it to, and I didn’t realize it. For a brief moment, my daughter spread her blue ocean across the brownish sand. A connection had just been made: love.
From that moment on and up until now, I’ve been fighting; I don’t want my mind or my guilt to take over anymore. I accept that I was exhausted, that I had doubts, but above all, I accept that it won’t always be easy—but that my daughter and I make a great team. This guilt that motherhood brings—it shouldn’t even exist! We need to stop judging, idealizing, and creating rosy pictures in our minds. It’s normal to be exhausted, to have doubts, and to ask for help. We have to accept our new role—that of a mother.