In one of our motherhood circles last week we were talking about identity and the conversation shifted toward exploring our expectations of motherhood. These expectations were formed from our childhoods, our evolving ideas of motherhood, cultural norms, and our peers (just to name a few). 

What emerged was this: What we thought motherhood would look like often isn't our reality once we're here. 

And as we're here in the cocoon of early motherhood - the messy, uncomfortable in-between space between our old selves and our new ones - trying to make sense of it all can feel completely overwhelming. 

I keep coming back to this line from "Surface Pressure" from the Encanto soundtrack...

Last week I had a moment. I was sitting on our living room couch and watching my kids race around the house screaming with joy. And this thought just popped into my head: "these are my KIDS! I am a mom! This is my LIFE! How is this possible?!"
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I immediately thought of the Talking Heads song "Once in a lifetime." Specifically:

I mean, I know how I got here. My kids are 6 and 3.5.  We've spent SO MUCH TIME together. 

And sometimes it still takes my breath away. 
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A few days later, in our Motherhood Circle for Toddler Moms, similar "Wow, I'm a mom!" stories emerged:

In our pregnancy circle, we often try to conceptualize what being “prepared” to have a baby means or looks like. 

How can we know what kind of support we will need once we have a baby? 

How can we prepare for the vast unknown of postpartum beforehand when everyone's experience is different?

How can we see the light of what we need when we’re in the middle of it and have no frame of reference for what we can expect?

How can we seek out help when newborn life already requires superhuman energy and a level of giving that is so above anyone’s normal (all while adjusting to enormous hormone shifts and recovering)?
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It’s so hard to know what we’ll need beforehand and, as I’ve learned, even when we’re going through it. I am all for the deep reflection, but want to suggest that it’s really ok if you’re feeling like “oh crap I have no idea!” Or if you look back and think "argh I wish I had done that differently!"

This past week in our circles you were so honest and vulnerable. Many of you shared the grief that can accompany Mother's Day - because you've lost a parent, a child, or have felt completely neglected on the day you're supposed to be celebrated. It's not always a happy "Hallmark moment" holiday. 

And getting vulnerable produced magic. You were seen and heard by other moms. Nobody judged you for not loving "your day." And the ingenuity that comes from the sisterhood of motherhood shined. We talked about creating rituals to remember those we've lost, taking time by ourselves to heal, and completely redefining Mother's Day - even moving it to another day to be able to celebrate how YOU want.

Mother's Day can be joyous or devastating. And this year we invite you to redefine it how best serves you. Brunch with your family? Great! Time alone? Perfect! Connecting with someone else over the trauma that it brings up for you? Please! 
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We're celebrating you every. single. day. And we know that this whole motherhood thing is HARD and making our own way is the only way. 

Today in our Mamas Circle we dove deep into how having a baby - whether it's your first, second, third or more - shifts your priorities. There were collective feelings of frustration, guilt, and complete overwhelm about adding this new role as mom into our already full lives.
 
We are defined for most of our adult lives by our work outside the home. We get paid to do this work, we often receive fulfillment in doing this work and we're usually pretty good at it. As women, we're most often the ones saying "yes!" and are shaped by our culture to be accommodating, people pleasing, and to do our very best every single day. 

Then we become mothers. 

And we start to question... "Do I even like my job?" "What happens if I have to put in fewer hours?" "I know I need to put boundaries in place but HOW?!" "What if I want to stay home with this baby?" "Who even AM I?!"
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We wonder how we can make it all work and still feel valued. 

Matrescense, or the process of becoming a mother, comes with a very particular set of growing pains. The physical pain of labor and recovery involves obvious discomfort, but truly there are so many growing pains that come with the larger scope of matrescense. 

There are the pains of shifting friendships and relationships that pull at our heartstrings. There is the pain of not being able to go back to our old selves yet the uncertainty of which path to carve out for our new selves. There is the painful shock upon realizing that we are inherently and viscerally changed. There is the pain of distance from our children or the inevitable loss due to mortality. 

The matrescence growing pains are real and vivid and yet, one thing is clear to me about them. Somewhere in the midst of the most intense pain, each one of us finds our voice and makes our way. Perhaps it’s even because of the intensity of the pain that we are able to find the clarity, the brightness or lucidity and it allows us to make the biggest and best decisions for ourselves and our babies. 

When the stakes are high and the pain is intense, we tend to make those decisions with little reservation. I see this time and again at births: we know what is right for us and our babies in those heightened moments and we fight for it.

This has been a very hard week in what has been a very hard year. The pain is overwhelming. I see all of you, making decisions and fighting for what is best for you and your families in the midst of all the pain. 

​We will shoulder this pain together. 

We see you.

We see how you think about what to make for breakfast (and lunch, dinner, and snacks).

How you keep up with doctors appointments, even when they are virtual.

We see you doing art projects. Sensory play. And when you're not looking and the whole toilet paper roll is unraveled around the house (which totally counts as play).

When you look into switching care providers and consider the options of where to give birth. 

How you research developmental milestones, coordinate evaluations, and schedule speech therapy appointments.

And listen to podcasts about how to handle toddler tantrums. 

I see you reaching out here - for advice, for connection.

How you think about family traditions, order gifts, and provide donations to families in need. 

We see you in our circles taking the time to hear others and share your experiences of carrying the invisible load of motherhood.

This work may be invisible to many, but not to us.

We see you. We're here with you. 
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We celebrate the invisible load you carry every single day. 

Fall is all about letting go. Even the leaves are letting go of their branches for that glorious wind-swept tumble to the earth. 

Something that keeps coming up for me when I think of letting go is the word should (and her sister shouldn't). I hear it - and used to say it - all the time. 

"I shouldn't rock my baby to sleep"
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"I should cook more"

"I shouldn't give up my career for my kids"

"I should be able to do it all without help."

"I shouldn't need to ask someone else if I can take a shower."

"I should enjoy playing with my kids more."

​In working with so many families and seeing all of the diverse and wonderful ways to do this whole parenting thing it's made me get really curious about the "shoulds." Especially as they relate to being a mom and raising children.

This past week I saw our October theme in action - 

On Friday a dear friend texted me about an incredibly productive day she had - she made meals for families in need, participated in 5 different zoom meetings, got her flu shot, and made weekend plans for her daughter. 

All I could think was "how?!"

So I asked her, and she said, "You know, I finally said 'no.'" She had a big project that she was being pressured to jump in on and after weeks of trying to fit it in she finally said "I can't do it." The next day, after dropping her daughter off at school, she used the time and space she had created (in between zoom meetings) to connect to her community, check a few things off her to-do-list, and set up a weekend break for herself. 

By saying NO to someone else, she was able to say YES to herself. This comes up so often in motherhood - we will often put our own health and wellbeing last to avoid disappointing someone else. Which is not only a physical and time burden on our lives but also an emotional one. 

Thank you for diving into our September Theme - What do I need? We talked about checking in with our bodies and our feelings, texting friends for accountability, getting sleep, making time for yoga and meditation, and so much more. 

Now, we're taking the next step - Being open to receiving support. 

When was the last time someone offered to help out and you said "Oh yes! I'd so appreciate that. Thank you!"?

Likely, your automatic response is "Oh it's ok, I've got this." Even if life feels completely overwhelming. 

Because in our culture we're supposed to do it all.