My friends, people tell you that motherhood is fantastic ~ a beautiful experience that transcends all other achievements a woman can strive to accomplish. We see images of mothers “muddling” through the mundane with both a grimace and a smile just blessed to be in the thick of it. Every once in a while we see the breakdown and “ugly” side of mothering.

But mostly its bliss, right?

Yeah. No. In fact, with the exception of a few milliseconds a day – I felt like I was always failing. I felt like every other mother knew more, did more, and kept it together better. And my only moments of bliss were when the children were peacefully sleeping. Yes. When they were sleeping the fragments of my personality hinged back together only to be blown open again when they woke up.

People said, sleep when they sleep. Don’t sweat the small stuff.

I literally felt like I was in a military bootcamp for the first year of each of my children’s lives. The urgent cry in the middle of the night set my nerves on fire. Nothing can prepare you for the panic that sets in when you are responsible for another person’s life. I was constantly frazzled. I even had anxiety when a stranger’s baby cried. I swayed back and forth in a standing position even when I wasn’t holding a baby, which was close to never. I heard fantom cries while the babies were sleeping. And, I cried for no reason, as if all of the above was no reason . . .

But the beautiful lie is everywhere, making mothers feel like what I just shared isn’t normal. It is completely normal.

I’ll share a story with you. I once left my son screaming in his crib because I knew I couldn’t emotionally pick him up. He was fed, changed, and completely overtired. ***I could’ve said the same for myself*** So, I left him in the crib to take a shower. I brought his monitor into the bathroom with me “just to be safe”. The funny thing about this is that his room shares a wall with my shower, and while I was showering I heard his cries in stereo, through the wall and the monitor. At one point, I screamed back at him in a high pitched desperate sound that scared me. That is the truth about newborns.

No matter how much you pray for them. No matter how much you feel blessed. At some point, you will feel alone and broken as a mother. And the reason why mothers are such fucking badasses is because at some point, we pull it back together. We step through that feeling of shame for not feeling completely blessed all the time. We allow ourselves some grace for being human. We fundamental know that a breakdown isn’t a failure, but more like a break through.

So now, I no longer lead with how blessed I am when I talk to other mothers, although I do share that at some point. I often start talking to other mothers about the innate struggle to keep it all together, and how one some days it is too much to try.

I share my vulnerabilities first.

I’ve gained very few friends holding onto a perfect image, but I have befriended some amazing women sharing my struggles.

I encourage you to dispel the beautiful lie too.