The Strange Identity Crisis of Becoming a Mother
I’ve always wanted to be a mother.
Since I could imagine what my future life would look like, there has never been a moment where I imagined myself without little children in my life. I wanted to get married, and I wanted to have many children. As I grew older, I recognized the complications that could come with have eight kids like I imagined, so I became content with only have one or two.
Now, at twenty-six, I have two. A boy and a girl, so perfect as they say. And yet, even though this is what I always imagined, this life looks different in ways I never could’ve imagined without having experienced this myself.
Last week, Lindsay Clancy’s trial ended with a mistrial and it will be decided some time in the future. Now, no! I have never had feelings about my life and children the way that Lindsay did, but I did experience post-partum depression with both, but especially with my second kid. So, seeing so much of the commentary and details of this case has really brought back so many of those traumas…
I barely remember life after my second child’s birth. I was completely in survival mode with an infant and another child under two. I don’t remember cuddling my son as much as my daughter. I don’t remember holding him at all, and the whole first year feels fuzzy. I experienced a lot of unexplainable anger and manic episodes that had me cutting my hair with kitchen scissors and consistent thoughts about ending things. It wasn’t until I went to therapy for only a few months when my youngest was almost three that I could finally get a grasp on myself, my emotions, and remember who I am and the things I like to do.
It was tough, and I wish I had gone sooner, but given the circumstances I know I did the best I could.
It was a journey to find myself again. I didn’t find joy in many things, and everything felt stupid and unnecessary to care about. I used to think, “Who cares about all these new movies and shows coming out?” Reading felt senseless. Music did, too. It was exhausting for my husband to come up with an idea for us to do together, because I didn’t want to do anything. I just wanted to lay in bed and rot! While I go through similar stages to this day, things have gotten better. I have hobbies again, TV shows I like, and I’ve bought tickets to four concerts over the next four months! I haven’t gone to a concert just because I’ve wanted to except for only once. And yes, my pockets are crying, but I’m excited to go and have fun for a night!
To get to this point, I spent a lot of time meditating on life and the things I like. I researched things, accepted that there are things that bring my joy and that it’s okay to give some of my time and attention to it. I watched a lot of videos on my hobbies, and lived vicariously until I could get the energy to do these things myself. Reading, crafting, etc…
And it really helped to find the joy in little things in life. This is where I think things really took a turn for me. I found joy in the chores, in the responsibilities, and in the mundane. Whether I was folding laundry, explaining something to my child for the fifth time over, sitting to read a book, doing the dishes, or baking some muffins, I was able to romanticize what I was doing and found what brought me joy.
There is no clear answer out there about how to find yourself again after having children. It depends on the person, and it may take years of experimentation to see what works for you. But if you’re reading this and feeling the same thing, just know you’re not alone. There are things you can do to make things better, and you will find yourself again. It’s a journey, not a destination. There will be days that are harder than others, and you may never reach that Nirvana state you are looking for. Really, that’s not possible. But just do the best you can, keep yourself safe, and keep trying!
