Dear Mamas: It Gets Better

Dear Mamas: It Gets Better

The other day I was talking with a friend who is in the throes of early motherhood. She was exhausted, overwhelmed and unsure of how she was going to keep going. I listened as sympathetically as I could, doing my best to be supportive instead of suggesting solutions…to really hear her. Because I remember.

I remember getting up at 5 a.m. when I’d only laid my head down on my pillow three hours earlier. I remember wandering the house in the dark, running into chair legs and almost breaking my toe. I remember trying to function through the haze of long term sleep deprivation. It felt like I was wading through a pool of Jell-O most of the time. I’d regularly begin a task and then halfway through completely forget what I was doing and why.

I recall the pressure I felt to keep up the façade of happy motherhood. I would smile and nod and tell everyone how grateful I was for my children and the life I’d been given. Then I would go to the bathroom and forget why I was there and cry a little bit. Not for long, however, because within minutes I wouldn’t be alone. That is what I remember most about early motherhood, the strangeness of feeling totally alone while never actually being alone.

I remember the ridiculous insanity of my time being ruled by the schedules of others. There were feedings, diaper changes, potty breaks, nap times and bedtimes. I very clearly recall one morning getting into my car to head to work and realizing I had NINE items of luggage with me. NINE. There was the diaper bag, my laptop bag, my camera bag, my purse, my daughter’s backpack and her lunchbox, my son’s cooler packed with pumped breast milk, my breast pump and my own lunch. NINE. My life was a sitcom where the mom is attempting to carry nine bags to the car while the baby screams in his carseat and the preschooler is refusing to get in the car because her shoes aren’t “blue enough.”

But my sweet mama friends, it gets better. I’m writing this from the other side. You know that tunnel you’re in right now? You might not be able to see the light at the end just yet, but it will come. One day you will wake up and realize you slept past 8 a.m. on a Saturday. You will actually need an alarm clock again, in order to get up for your day. The time will come when your kid says, “Can I have a glass of water?” and you’ll say, “Sure, get it yourself!”

Your days will still be busy with the stuff of motherhood, but you will have room to breathe. Of course, there are new challenges and new paths to navigate. There will be arguments over piano practice and sleepovers. There will be conversations about the birds and the bees, bullying and what to do when you’re hurt by a friend. There will be homework to supervise and sports teams that need a parent to coach. There will be bad attitudes and hurt feelings and the first time your kid screams, “I hate you!” when you take away video games for a week. But at least, through all of this, you’ll be sleeping again. You’ll even (mostly) go to the bathroom by yourself. You’ll take showers that last more than 2 minutes. These trials of motherhood are a lot easier to manage when you’re rested, well-fed and clear-headed.

I know this may not be of much comfort right now, but one day you will have a random night of interrupted sleep (maybe someone had a bad dream or the dog barked at a nocturnal squirrel) and the next day you will be exhausted. As you fumble around with the coffee maker, you will remember when you used to live on this amount of sleep for days and weeks on end, and you won’t be able to figure out HOW you did it. That’s how far away the bad memories will seem.

So, my dear mamas, take a deep breath. Dive into this crazy time in your life with as much gusto as you can manage. Which for me, to be honest, wasn’t much. It’s okay if you’re not in love with mothering young children. It’s not everyone’s favorite thing, and it’s really, freaking hard. One day you’ll see that tiny speck of light at the end of the tunnel beckoning, and when you get there, a whole tribe of us will be waiting with hugs and hi-fives. And pillows in case you want to take a nap.

Megan Peters
Megan Peters is a mother, writer, photographer, designer and blogger, based in the Lenexa/Overland Park area (she lives right on the city line, so it depends who you ask!). She is known as mama to 4-year-old Tate and 9-year-old Lucy, and has been married for almost 10 years to her husband, Trent. Megan began blogging in 2004, and her website, www.crazybananas.com, has been online ever since! In 2015, Megan quit her day job and founded Crazy Bananas Creative Studio, an all-inclusive creative company. Part of the studio includes her photography business, which focuses on images of families, children and babies. In 2015, she opened her first photography gallery show, "The Phoenix Project" in conjunction with the Willow Domestic Violence Center in Lawrence, Kansas. She was the South Mass Street Art Guild's Artist of the Month in June 2015. She also is an instructor for Hive Workshops, teaching creatives how blogging can build their business. Megan writes all over the internet about parenting, technology, style pop culture, and being a working mother. Her loves (other than her family, of course!) include Doctor Who, the color orange, pie, and Britney Spears.