Why I’m a horrible mother and I’ll always be.

You’re never told that becoming a mom means that you will feel immense guilt every time you are not the perfect mom.

From the moment my son was born, I had already realized I’d made so many mistakes.

Why didn’t I pay for those professional maternity pictures that seemed so expensive a few months ago? I should have kept much better memories of my first pregnancy.

I wanted to do an all natural birth, but I couldn’t help but ask for the epidural to ease my crippling pain. What if getting the epidural causes me or my baby a random bad symptom in the future?

My doctor told me I would be given my baby right away for skin to skin contact, but a random nurse that came in at the last minute took him away to clean him as soon as he was out. How could I not speak up and tell them to give me my baby? I was sobbing as I watched her take him away, even if it was just a few feet away from me. I was also told I would be able to see the placenta after it was taken out, and I really wanted to see it because it’s such an amazing organ. I never saw the placenta I grew to give my sweet boy life.

Because the birth of my son wasn’t traumatic enough, the days after coming home almost broke me. I was determined to breastfeed my baby.

Yes, fed is best, but breastfeeding was what I wanted to do.

We were doing just fine in the hospital. As soon as we get home, however, it becomes the most difficult thing I have ever tried to do. I felt so much guilt and was so disappointed when the pediatrician recommended I supplement with formula as I continue to try.

If there is anything that made me cry and panic more than breastfeeding, it was the moment someone kissed my baby. I didn’t have the courage to instruct them not to kiss my newborn. How could I not have the courage to instruct them not to kiss MY newborn.

I was fragile. The weight of post partum recovery, depression, anxiety, and the whole world just kept me from speaking up. Then it happened again. I’m the worst mother ever. He cannot speak up for himself. If I don’t protect him, who will?

This thought broke me and continued to break me for the next 4 months.

Isolation was my answer, mostly. I hid away and tried to keep my baby from any visitors. Keeping my baby from his family made me feel even worse.

Although I am positive that not speaking up and setting boundaries before and after the first person kissed my baby makes me a coward and a terrible mother, I have yet to break my silence. I continue to be the worst protector of this wonderful little human I have brought into the world. If I don’t protect him, then who will? I was once filled with sadness and anxiety, but now I’m just to the brim with rage towards myself. How can I go on looking at his sweet face any longer without managing to find the words for those that think they have any kind of right when it comes to my baby?

I‘ve made a promise to myself tonight, as my heart feels it is in a million pieces. The first words out of my mouth when we have any visitors will be: please do not kiss my baby. I don’t care who it is or what sort of reaction they have. No one should be puuting their lips on anyone else’s baby anyways. How could they even combat my boundaries? Even if they do become bothered, they aren’t the type of person I want around my children anyway.

Let’s say I do find the courage, and no one ever kisses my baby again. The heart wrenching guilt, and disgusting images of other people kissing my son as an innocent baby will always remain. It will always hurt. I will always loath myself for not standing up for him.