My baby was born, and since then, I just don’t get why moms don’t stand up and protest in the streets. Here’s a heartfelt confession from a mom hit hard by the tough realities of motherhood.
The Body
I gained a lot of weight during pregnancy and was very swollen. My mom, mother-in-law, aunt, neighbors, the greengrocer lady—basically every woman around—kept telling me it wasn’t good that I was gaining so much weight. My sister threw up throughout her pregnancy and even lost weight in the first months, and then those same women nagged her for being too thin and not gaining enough.
Where do these women get the nerve to criticize anyone’s body, and why do we let it slide?
Looking Down on Others
Why is it still accepted that moms who have C-sections get looked down on by those who give birth naturally? And when it comes up, why do people ask why I chose that? It wasn’t out of vanity—it was medically necessary—but why should I have to explain that to bored moms at the playground? It’s nobody’s business.
Helpfulness
I didn’t expect everyone to throw themselves at me just because I have a little kid, but society’s indifference is shocking. People don’t let me cut in line, don’t give up their seat, and won’t help me lift the stroller onto the bus. In that moment, I overheard two girls behind me whispering, “Why have a kid if you can’t even afford a car?”
Dad
I spent the whole week at home with the baby, nursing every three hours, and when not feeding, the baby cried all day. I was like a zombie, barely sleeping more than a few hours at night, and I couldn’t wait for the weekend so my husband would finally help out. But when I woke him up Saturday morning, he grumbled that he’d worked all week and felt he “deserved to sleep until noon on Saturday.”
Exhausted, I just laughed like a crazy woman. I asked if he even noticed what I was doing at home all week with zero sleep! I kicked him out of the bedroom, told him I was pumping milk, and warned him not to wake me or else. When I complained to my friends, they said I was lucky because their husbands don’t help with the baby at all.
The Help
When I was pregnant, dozens of people told me to just ask if I needed anything. But when I reached out, they vanished without a trace. My friend couldn’t watch the baby for an hour and a half while I ran errands because she didn’t know how to handle infants and was afraid of hurting him. My mother-in-law said she was busy with a bus trip to Austria. My aunt said she wouldn’t come from the countryside because of that, and my sister said I wanted the baby, so I should manage.
That’s when I realized how truly alone moms are.
Not Like That
I don’t ask for advice, yet everyone gives me unsolicited tips, and no matter what I do, it’s never right. If I let the baby cry, that’s bad; if I don’t, that’s bad too. If I feed this, it’s wrong; if I feed something else, why not the other? If I take the baby out in the cold, he’ll catch a cold; if I don’t, he won’t build immunity. If I let the cat near him, he’ll get sick; if I don’t, he might develop allergies.
Not a day goes by without a handful of conflicting "helpful" advice.
Expectations
I’m trying to keep a little human alive, and I honestly don’t know what I’m doing —it’s my first time—while everyone expects me to be the same as before. Just as pretty, cheerful, informed, and active.
The expectations placed on moms are totally unrealistic, and I never saw that clearly until I became one myself.
