Parenthood

Motherhood. When people say that word, what comes to mind? A woman, maybe yourself, holding a lovely baby in your arms, full of love and full of hope. You could even picture the future where the children or child is older, where you are all so happy together. Sitting on a picnic blanket having lunch under a beautifully lager tall tree, with luscious green leaves. Soaking in all the warm sunshine rays peaking through the clouds, the rays that happen to just sneak past the leaves. You could even see a little dispute between you and your partner, or even maybe between you and your child. Regardless, everything is full of love, hope, innocences and peace.

I’m here to tell my story. It has been everything BUT peace.

I read that positive two lines on the pregnancy test.. In my heart I knew before I even took the test. However, it still didn’t stop the shock from spreading over me. I wasn’t sure how I felt at first. It was a very mixed pot of emotions. Excited, worried, sad, happy, bubbly and anxious. I was nineteen when I got pregnant, so I was terrified of all the backlash from my family. My mother was a young mother. Same as my moms mother. My grandma had to raise me as my mother battled with drug addiction. So, to say I felt unequipped was an understatement. The only person I had as a role model was someone who continuously put me down at any chance she could. She had very unrealistic standards. Standards she herself couldn’t even achieve, and if by chance you could reach these standards it never mattered because that wasn’t good enough either. I knew in my heart and body I was terrified, but my love for the child growing inside me triumphed through those fears every time they came up. Finally believing in myself for once in my life. Saying I could be everything I wanted, needed and more for my child. I wasn’t alone either. For what I know and went through I’m so grateful I wasn’t. My husband, who was my boyfriend at this time was right there beside me, his family was there for us so much so that nothing would repay them for their grace and kindness. I would just like to point out that yes we had this abundant amount of courage to push through our strongest fears, but we were still very terrified, we were not ready in anyway. We both knew that. We had a lot of growing up for this child. I honestly don’t know anyone who is ever ready, no matter the age. We all have excitations going into motherhood/parenthood that never match up, because of society paints in this glorious picture.

We knew it wasn’t going to be easy, that we were very aware of. We would be horridly exhausted. The baby would scream day and night as new babies do. We did know however that we would have all the tools to over come things that came our way. “Everyone” said the first few months if a baby cries it’s one of three things. The baby is either hungry, has a dirty diaper or needs sleep. As you can tell from the tone, THAT was not my experience.

My pregnancy didn’t start great. This would be the course that would bring me here to this day, writing about my experience. To make it aware, that what society has labeled motherhood to be, is not accurate for everyone. The people that don’t match this stigmatism have a tremendous amount of difficulty adjusting because of it. They feel like they did something wrong. Or they’re horrible for not having the feelings society deems appropriate. We feel like outsiders, aliens if you will. All because we don’t match what society says. Then the guilt piles on like a never ending dump truck. You don’t even notice at first. Those of you who have experienced postpartum depression know that anyone who hasn’t has postpartum depression couldn’t possibly understand it. You need to actually live it for yourself to truly understand that kind of darkness. It’s a whole other level that no one knows exists until they’ve been there.

My pregnancy started out with intense pregnancy pain that put me on a strict “walking only” transition to life very early on. It took a hit to my life, but I was doing it to keep my unborn baby safe so it wasn’t end all be all type thing. It meant no gym, no running, nothing that got the heart pumping. Something that I craved as a person with chronic pain, lifting weights gives you this powerful and strong feeling. A feeling I grew accustom to, after feeling so weak all the time. However, I powered though that knowing each day I got weaker, knowing I’d be set back ten folds in my physique and strength. As hard as that was I did move forward with my life my Childs safety meant more to me. I was in and out of my doctors office due to these unexplained intense pains.

Then, I developed pre-eclampsia towards the middle-end of my pregnancy. Which was scary to me. I had done the prenatal classes, I was worried how this could effect my son. As much as I thought I knew, I knew there was an abundance of knowledge I didn’t know. Knowledge doctors like to keep to themselves to keep the patience for getting overly worried. Which in my opinion, I don’t agree with. I grew and grew throughout my pregnancy. I was measuring six weeks ahead of what the “average” person was with belly measurements. I had gained over 50lbs. At 30 out of 40 weeks of pregnancy people were

saying “ OMG you are due any moment!!!!”

I would reply with “oh no I still have two moths and a half left.”

They would look visibly shocked, but didn’t say anything out of respect.

To farther clarify, I was 30 weeks in baby development because my baby was 30 weeks along. But I measuring at 36 weeks of development. (36 inches around the small of your waist.) I was checked to see if I had gestational diabetes. The three test came back negative. So I didn’t not have gestational diabetes. I did notice after I had Theo though that I had a ton of water weight that I had accumulated. I remember I used to get sooo tired from carried this gigantic belly around all day. I would rest my belly on the counter at work when no one was in the store, ahahahah. My co-worker and the owner were great they thought it was hilarious. I mean it was.

My Ob for this pregnancy said I should be included. I was at 38 weeks ish. I had gone on maternity leave a month before the baby actually had been born. I mean my blood pressure was through the roof, chronic pain, huge child, and the pre-eclampsia. Plus, I was heading to the hospital for the extreme pain I was in towards the end. Thinking back I’m pretty sure it was because of the extreme amount of weight I was caring putting extreme pressure on my organs, back and spine.

Then came my due date or the induction due date I should say. Friday morning 6am I was at the hospital. I was 38 weeks a few days before 39 weeks. I was terrified but SOOOO excited. I couldn’t wait for my son to get the hell out of me. No offence to anyone, I was huge, it looked like I was carrying twins before I reached six months. I was so sore. I was done, ahah. I also felt my son would be safer in the world with doctors than in my belly. Not a lot of moms have this feeling, but I couldn’t help my son from with in me if he needed. Plus, at this time I didn’t trust myself due to my body pain. I wasn’t able to decipher between my pain and pain I would need to go into the hospital for. Then the Friday passed… Nothing, not even any labour pain. I thought I was immune to the pain. I was a bit cocky about it, ahah. Saturday came and went. Then Saturday night at about 3 am I started to huuuurrrtttt. Holy man I thought I was going to die, ahah. Somehow I was able to catch some sleep. I was going to NEED it. Then morning came and no change in pain for hours. They finally decided to break my water at around 10am. Then 12 hours later.. at 10pm the action started. I started to push, or pre push. Which isn’t something I was ever told before. I thought when you push its time, but this wasn’t ‘the’ time. I was on my right side and was getting very far very fast. Within 15 minutes the baby was crowning. Which meant it was actually time for the doctor to come in. Now, they made me lay on my back I didn’t want to because I couldn’t breath properly due to the excessive weight. Which in all logicalness makes sense, but the doctor didn’t want me to labour on my side. Everything was a mess after that. Though on a positive note, it took only 45 minutes total to get my son out, and I’m pretty proud of that! However, nothing else I wish to remember. Which is unfortunate, but life isn’t always a happy experience.

I got so close to my son being completely through.

Everything happened in a matter of minutes, it was SO fast. I wasn’t doing good, my son was stuck and not breathing. He had his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. About 20 nurses came rushing in the room and started using their body weight pushing on my stomach to help push my son out. Something that is pretty frequent in the hospitals apparently but something I had never heard of. Mind you I had NO idea what was going on at any moment during this whole delivery process. I was like the kid at the back of the class. No one said anything to me and when I would say something no one listened. When my son was officially born, he was thrown on my belly like a fish being thrown back into water. Now, I’m not sure if thats normal. But it will forever be an unpleasant image burned into my brain. He suffered a clean break in his upper arm bone. It’s more common to break the caller bone, which is what doctors do when the baby is too big and gets stuck. He was 10lbs 9 ounces. He was blue and purple. He was not breathing, he wasn’t crying. I was so out of it that I didn’t even realize he was fully born until he was swooshed away. I couldn’t hold him in my arms and spend those precious moments you hear about and see on tv. The moment when you and your baby make eye contact and you both just shine in love, happiness and pure bliss. Which now looking back was and is still heart wrenching to know I never got that with my baby. You see all these good births with the mother and her baby getting that so important quality bonding time. It’s disappointing to know that I wasn’t able to have that, but my sons health was and still is more important.

My husbands mom was in the hall, when they took my baby Theo to the NICU she didn’t loose sight of him. Which meant a whole lot to me. Someone was there watching him. Making sure he was ok. She was not allowed in the NICU, it was very small.

I on the other hand was struggling. Had three pediatricians in the room on top of all the nurse. The nurses were rushing around, doing who knows what. The head pediatrician, the lady I was seeing since I had gotten pregnant, she pulled out the placenta, she didn’t wait. I felt the tug. Not a cramping pushing feeling you are supposed to feel, but a pull. To my knowledge thats not supposed to happen. Then again no one ever talks about this stuff, so my knowledge was very limited. After she did that, the blood wouldn’t stop flowing. All three of them taking turns trying to get the uterus to start cramping down so it could start to get smaller, to stop the blood flow. They were tired, I was tired. They were elbows deep in my uterus with huge amounts of blood flowing out as they switched off between each other. I don’t exactly remember too much. My husband, he says I looked dead. The colour drained from my face and I just wasn’t there. I just wasn’t there. Theres no other way to explain that. I just felt like I was dying. The feeling of letting go was very present. That may sound weird to some, it’s more of a you have to experience it to understand type of thing. In the moment, I prayed to whom ever was out there and willing to listen. Now I’m not a practicing religious person at this time, so for me that was an extreme measure. Religion never made much sense to me. However, my anxiety was full swing and I knew I need more help then was confined to that room. They were getting ready for an OR room. I believe, thinking back now that they were getting ready for the OR having nothing left to try and save my life. I think someone suggested another last option approach. Because the next thing I knew nurses were moving fast again, and then they stabbed my stomach with a huge needle. I was so out of it I honestly didn’t even notice. Something that if I was coherent I would have passed out due to my anxiety around needles. One thing lead to another and they were rapping up everything cleaning the room and I was settling down for a freaking nap. There wasn’t anything else I could have done even if I was allowed. My body was dead, like just lifeless. I needed to recuperate. Even if I didn’t want to sleep, I couldn’t of fought it. So I made my husband leave me to go visit Theo. I knew I was okay for now. I knew Theo needed at least one of us. I didn’t want Theo to be so alone. In this plastic casing hooked up to so many different things trying to help him get past all this trauma. Just writing this saddens my heart like it did back then. So pure, so innocent, so brand new to life. What a hell of a way to start life. He was and still is a fighter. Full of life and energy.

After I slept, I think I slept for roughly 5 hours. Which in my opinion is hard to do in the maternity ward when people are currently having babies. They were starting to move me to a different room. I kept insisting to see my son. They advised against it due to me state, but they didn’t fight me on it. They wouldn’t of won anyways, ahah. I was wheeled over to him in a chair. It was the very first time I was able to hold my sons tiny hand. With his small little fingers and even tinier little baby nails. He was asleep, but he latched on to my huge finger right away. His whole hand not even making a complete circle around my finger. He had a full head of very thick dark brown hair, and grey eyes. He was the very definition of beautiful to me. I didn’t let any of the sad consume me. I was trying to push passed. At the end of the day we are all alive and recovering. We are ok. Thats what mattered most. My husband had begged the NICU nurses to let me hold Theo for the first time, they made everything portable for Theo to come to me. Holding my son for the first time after 15 hours of not being able to, due to his condition. Because let’s be honest, NOTHING was stopping me. Not even my state of health. I was holding my son for the first time as soon as I could, while still keeping his health a top priority. Because to me nothing mattered except him. Making sure he was okay, he was safe, loved and cared for. I remember I was just so emotional holding my son for the very first time. However, I was only able to hold him for 10 minutes because he had to go back to the NICU. Which I still to this day am so incredibly appreciative of. He was just in such a critical condition. The NICU nurses were just unbelievably kind and understanding. There was one nurse that was very judgmental. I had no idea what I was doing. Yet people still judge you for trying to show up and do your best when that in itself is THE hardest thing a person can do. ESPECIALLY when people are putting you down because of your lack of knowledge. Hey, it’s not like you aren’t trying to learn or that you don’t want to learn. You’re just new to it all.

Doing your best with the knowledge you have is the most credible thing a person can do. Momma/ single parents I see you struggling. I see you wanting to just give up every morning and STILL get up everyday and do what you need to and nothing more. THAT IS OKAY. It’s more than just ok. You are a human you need to take care of you too. If that means the house is a freaking disaster, the house is a freaking disaster. If someone can’t handle it that much then tell them to get a freaking wash cloth and vacuum because you don’t live for these people that come over. You live for you and your kids. I can tell you right now your kids do not care if the house is a mess. Don’t give into these horrid societal standards that don’t even make sense. Why does a house have to be clean all the time or even some of the time? When did that become a grading system of how you take care of your kids? I could clean all day to have a spotless house, but in order to do that I can’t spend quality time with my son. Now at the end of the day my relationship to my son counts more then a clean house. If people can’t understand that they aren’t it, and better friends are out there. Don’t get me wrong I have OCD over cleanness and other things. It has been a battle one I needed medication to get through, but thats okay. I get to spend time with my beautiful baby boy. It’s not forever, it’s just for now. I choose that over not being able to spend time with my son. If I really need to clean I work around my son sleeping, or wear him and take him along. Teach your kids how to be clean if thats something you need done. What I’m trying to say is just because your house isn’t clean or your make up isn’t done does NOT make you a bad mom or insufficient in ANYWAY. It makes you THE BEST mom/ parent because you’re choosing your son over mundane tasks that can wait. I choose to have a relationship to my son than a clean house, etc. If anything is causing mental health strain you have options. Please, please never ever forget that YOU. HAVE. OPTIONS. You don’t need to feel powerless, because you are the most powerful thing in this world.

Theo spent the next week in the NICU. I had a lot of iron infusions to help get my blood supply back to normal. Theo went through a lot in the hospital. He failed his breathing test, he failed his heart test, and a few other things too. Then, he got jaundice, which is VERY common in NICU babies. Who knew? Not me. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. No one had any information for me. I had to schedule an appointment with my sons pediatrician to just figure out what was going on with my son. Half the people there said he had a very bad tongue tie, the other half said it was nothing. We took a prenatal class, we took all the classes, we watched endless YouTube videos. I read I have no idea how many books. Prenatal class’ extremely not useful, very outdated in my town. If that wasn’t enough, because give me freaking strength! Three days after having Theo my husband got into a car accident driving home to get more things as we planned a night at the hospital, not a week. We lived out of town at this time. I woke up with this nasty feeling. I messaged my husband right away. This idiot says “something bad happened” and thats it for minutes……….. ??????? Like are you kidding me. You can’t just do that to a woman who just had a baby like what’s wrong with you? Men.

Somehow he wasn’t hurt. I thank whomever, whatever helped saved my husbands life. I will cherish that act of kindness forever. I make sure to remind my self how utterly grateful I am that he left that accident without a scratch. I believe he had a minor concussion, but you can’t exactly test for that to know for sure. The doctor just said lots of rest, not much else. The car was totalled there was so much damage. The damage of the car was worth three quarters of what the car was worth. Which after everything that happened in the last two weeks I took as a loss. We had just had this vehicle due to another loss earlier in the last year. This was my favourite vehicle that I had up to that point in my life. I was an emotional mess.

We went home in a rental car four to five days later from the hospital with Theo. It was a very weird experience taking our son home in a rental. It was a hard experience to drive passed that spot where My husband had his accident. After all of that we just were not the same. Im not sure anyone could have been the same going through what we did.

You would like to think that after all that horridness life would pick up a little for our family. Well I will just cut to the chase. It didn’t, aha.

Somehow everything just got mushed together. The days, hours, daily todo lists, all of it just blended together. I mean we had so much to just process in a two week time frame. Theo was so amazing for the first week. He was so quiet and just relaxed. Just a go with the flow baby. I felt so gifted to have such an easy baby while I recovered. Then I had to switch to formula feeding for Theo due to extreme issues no could seem to figure out. Theo started to just continuously screamed day and night but different then a typical baby. It was unconsolable. Which is not normal. It means theres something not right. This was a high pitched scream like a limb was being cut off slowly. It was a traumatizing scream. We were continuously told it was nothing. Lets not forget there was his broken arm to deal with. Or I suppose not to deal with, as the doctor didn’t want us to touch the arm. The healing was a very fragile process. The wrong move trying to put a jumper on and we could re-break the bone. However, the home visiting nurses said to touch the arm and change out his sling… Which I just tried to stick with what the doctor had said to do. Now they wanted us to bath him in a tub, but because of the arm I didn’t want to sling to get wet and cause more issues. He did have an appointment in about a weeks time. It wasn’t a big deal. A sponge bath or wiped down was more than good enough. I didn’t want to put my son in more pain then needed. So what if he was a little dirty under the splint, being dirty for a little won’t hurt him like a rebreak would. Plus thats what the orthopaedic doctor said to do. After everything he went through and still going through I felt it could wait a bit. However, that didn’t stop the nurse from getting all judgemental.

A week or two after we left the hospital Theo began to breath weird. He had blue/ purple spots all over him. They were very prominent around the hands and feet. We went straight into the hospital due to his issues at birth, I felt it was very important for him to be seen as soon as possible. He was admitted into the children’s ward. He was there for a night. They said it was silent reflux. Which I’m sure he did have at that time. However, that was merely a symptom of a much bigger more intense picture that would cause him almost a year of pain. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. We saw four different pediatricians. Nothing ever help Theo stop having all the symptoms he was having. The city we live in isn’t very big, so that was it for baby doctors. So we sought general physicians, they would refer us to the pediatricians we already saw. Everyone kept saying “ he’s colicky” or “he’s just being a baby” or my personal favourite “he’s reading your energy”. I don’t even have any energy to have this conversation. It’s HIGHLY doubtful. Since no one was helping in this town I sought a bigger town two hours away from where we live. Unfortunately he was turned away from EVERYONE. ???? This baffles me still to this day. All I needed was an over the phone consult to help me figure out which course was best to take out of the ones I was thinking about. Just general information from a doctor, fifteen minute or less call for my 4 month old baby. How people can turn away a baby is beyond me. I told them I had talked to everyone in my town. Of course that did not matter. I was outraged, I was so mad and dumb founded. I was besides myself. The waiting lists were years long in some offices. Then I just started to sob. Knowing with every part of your body that theres something wrong and having doctors, educated people over and over again tell you its nothing. Or them telling you its YOUR energy thats causing this constant screaming is honestly degrading It causing a different kind of confusion within yourself. You stop trusting your own gut thinking that you’re wrong or overthinking because well you’re a “new mom”. Which is just a load of crap. Just because you are new at being a parent or a young parent doesn’t mean you’re going to seek professional advice over something you feel to be nothing. Or maybe you would be that person. Regardless that should NOT MATTER every single inquiry about a BABY should be taken with all seriousness. The fact it isn’t is just astounding. Im so extremely disappointed in the health care system, in regards to my sons health. (They have done amazing for all of us being the front liners for this pandemic. I am forever grateful for all the hard work and effort they have put into halting and saving us from this incurable virus. I am in no way undermining anything at all. Im strictly only disappointed in the doctors that have turned away a 4 month old baby, especially when I pleaded for them to help him, and nothing more.).

Finally after all the turning away I had gotten and the screaming all day and all night inconsolably. Of endless days of not knowing what to do to help your child stop screaming, to help them to stop hurting. To just make thing better for them. If only he could tell me what was wrong. Words I thought over and over again for his entire first year of life. Of trying EVERYTHING to help him. Having such a strict routine, not a single thing changed for months. We’d never leave the house, if we did he’d be a nightmare on top of everything he was already doing due to his pain. I had had it. I was DONE. I decided to take things into my own hands because no one was coming to save him no matter how much I begged and pleaded. No one was going to be there for him but his dad and myself.

Meanwhile, I had been endlessly searching of why my son wouldn’t stop crying. This wasn’t normal. I had asked every type of doctor we had seen if my son could have a milk allergy. Over, over and over again. Always met with “no he doesn’t” or “we will look at that later on”. All because he was on nutramigen formula. All because they wouldn’t take MY (his mothers) concerns in seriousness. Thinking they are superior to myself. I will agree they have all the education but on the other hand I am his mother. Something that i’ve learned is no one cares what you have to say or what you truly think. Keep fighting for it. Until theres a test result saying no at 100%, keep pushing. We have these feeling for a reason. I thought I didn’t have those ‘mom feelings’, I though I couldn’t feel them but I could. It was just a tiny, tiny voice because of everything that had happened to us this far.

I went out on a hunt. I hunted for amino acid formula. The smallest broken down form of protein on the market. There was nothing after this for formula. My breast feeding issues were still unresolved due to doctors having no idea what was going on.

We went on a wild chase. We went to all the store in our city, that is not an exaggeration. We went to every single store, grocery or small corner store. I was ready to break down. Each store I left empty handed my heart was just as empty, sinking more and more each time. The last store I went in searching came up empty handed. I asked a pharmacy lady about this formula. It has to be ordered in. One hundred dollars per 400 grams a can. It had to be ordered in a box of four cans. $400 dollars. That was just not doable. Like who can afford that? My son was eating 8 cans a month of formula at 600grams a can. Like that would have bankrupt us. Plus it would need to be ordered in, so that wasn’t helping me.

It was like the world slowed down and it started to spin around me. I had no hope left, I was defeated. The only thing I knew, the only thing left that I could try was something we couldn’t afford. I was beside myself. The world was continuing as normal around me while I just stood there in another kind of heart break.

I knew sitting in a grocery store crying wasn’t going to change anything. It wasn’t going to bring me money to pay for this. It wasn’t going to change my son from being in pain. I couldn’t help my son due to money. Im not even sure how to explain how defeating and gut wrenching that is.

As a final last try, I asked this amazing pharmacy lady if I had any other option whatsoever to help my son. She listed off a bunch of stuff I had already been trying. She hummed and hawed. Then I asked in a very desperate pleading way “is there anything at all that doesn’t have dairy in it, besides nutramigen? Anything.” She went back to ask another pharmacist to see if there was in fact anything else. She said I think we have something… She came around the corner to look for the can down the formula isle.

My heart started racing, it was pounding in my chest. I was praying, I was begging for help in my head for just anything. She then showed me a soy option to try. It wasn’t what I initially wanted or hunted for but it was worth everything I had left to try. I never thought twice about trying it. There was NOTHING else left, I had nothing left. Theo was a 2 person job. He was just that hard and I knew this wasn’t my little boy. In my heart I knew.

Sure enough the next day and through the week his screaming, outbursts, and inconsolableness down ten fold. He was still having the symptoms prior. However, things were so bad before the switch that it felt like he was a “normal” baby. What society says is a normal baby. He felt like the type of perfect babies you hear about but never actual see. Perhaps thats just me thats never seen a perfect baby.

Looking back, thats not what was actually going on. He was still VERY hard. He was still every symptomatic. Though time went on. We saw the same pediatricians. One of them said because his symptoms went down and the fact that 60% of babies that go on soy formula that have a milk allergy also have to soy protein allergy because it’s almost the same… So what about the other 40% of babies that still have a milk allergy and aren’t allergic to soy???? In my opinion thats not even good educational knowledge. He said my son was an “anomaly” all because he wasn’t apart of the 60% thats also allergic to soy….. then again he didn’t listen to me about him actually having a milk allergy in the first place. I think we need better standards in this town, but thats just my opinion.

Months went on, things were better. It wasn’t until ten in a half months that I figured out Theo also was actually allergic to the soy formula. It went unnoticed by us because his milk allergy went unnoticed for so long causing him to have these huge reactions. So when they went to smaller ones we figured everything was fine. How it went over his pediatricains head doesn’t surprise me. I do believe it shouldn’t of though. For a safety measure he should have been tested. Which is 100% possible both in new borns and older.

Now he’s almost one year and life is getting better. Everyday I’m on the look out for any more allergies traumatize by what happened. Traumatized by the screaming. The guilt of knowing and not pushing harder does linger. However, I need to remind myself that I put trust in the people that went school to become a doctor to children and babies. I put my trust in health care, and just because they failed my son doesn’t make that a wrong choice. We should be able to trust our care providers, especially when we have no idea what’s going on.

No one tells you about all the horror that is so common with parenthood. No one tells you that you need to be the strongest advocate for your children. Its goes unstated of course, but to the extent you need to push a doctor to listen to you isn’t stated. To push a doctor to do more than just give you a label, because in the event they over look something your sons first year of life is constant pain. No one tells you how incredibly horrify this process can get. How much blame you can just take on when it’s so out of your control. When you can’t be and do everything. I battled with postpartum depression for so long. For too long. That went unlooked as well. No one tells you that not only after you’ve gone through this horrible experience that you also have to advocate for yourself. For your mental health. I’ve had so many of my calls go missed for counselling appointments. So many doctors say I was fine when I wasn’t or try to push medical options on you, that you really don’t want to do. No one tells you how scarring this whole process can actually be.

MOMS NEED MORE SUPPORT.

MOMS NEED MORE INFORMATION ABOUT PARENTHOOD.

SOCIETY NEEDS TO STOP WITH THEIR INACCURATE IMPOSSIBLE STANDARDS OF NORMAL PARENTHOOD.

Through my mental health journey I’ve come to a potential reason why moms stay silent. The people you talk too are very important. For a few reasons. You can’t just tell anyone you want to run away and skip town. Or other very intense things because someone will take it wrong and you’ll have people knocking at your door making sure your child isn’t endanger. Which I totally understand why someone would do such a thing. However, when you both are on the same page of it’s a safe space to vent, it’s a huge violation of privacy. Plus it already makes you feel like the shitest person in the whole world to even just say the things you feel to begin with, because you know its a horrid thing to feel/say. If a mother shares something very real and raw with you she’s doing it because your are her safe place. DO NOT underestimate that relationship. She needs you more than ever, don’t destroy that trust. The things I thought about while struggling to help my child stop the continuous screaming and the no help from the medical system. Was the most negative things I have ever faced in my life. I felt worse than the shitest person alive or dead for the matter. We moms/main care takers are held to this just stupidly ridiculous standard. How is a new mom/care taker supposed to be a mom/parent and take care of themselves? Not including the issues with people not listening, mental health people not calling back, and the million other things that need doing in a day or that gets pilled on? Society sets you up to “fail” from the start. No person can just do everything. If that was the case there would be a single person living on this earth. That doesn’t make sense., there wouldn’t be an earth. Yet we accept it as true and doable because it’s been built into our brains as normal, as possible, as achievable since we were young. Look, I always knew my house was going to be messy I was okay with that. What I didn’t realize is I was going to have to chose between taking care of myself, relaxing, cleaning, eating, sleeping or making the calls that need to get done, and only have minutes to do it in.

Theres still so much under the surface of all thats been written out. Not everything can be said for other people taking things the wrong way or feeling its their job to play detective over a mother they have no knowledge about simply because we are put under this insane microscope. Everything we do or don’t do. Everything we say or don’t say or even how we say something about our child is being assessed. Why? When did this start? When did this became the have to’s instead of the what I choose to do? When did peoples limitations go out the window when they become a parent? We don’t stay at work 24 hours a day 7 days a week. But we can work 8-12 hours a day then go home and take are of a child or many children for the rest of the day? Potentially through the night, and get shunned by work for taking care of your family because you’re late or your Childs sick and needs to stay home. Why is this okay? Why is this normalized?

Perhaps its because we always show the best versions of the best everything? Or perhaps once you’re a parent you’re supposed to just know. Like you aren’t still a normal person that has no freaking clue what you are doing. I still find my self thinking ‘okay… I know what I’m doing’ then a day later be met with a ‘ohhh so I have no idea what I’m doing, ahah.’. If I’m going to be completely honest here, I do not want to be a parent to a baby. Yes it’s not what I signed up for, but thats not the reason. I don’t want to be a parent because I’m trapped. I say to myself if covid-19 wasn’t a thing I would love being a parent. I don’t entirely believe that. I can never just sit and watch a movie anymore. I can never just eat whenever I want. I can’t hang with friends. I can’t just go. I have to pack a baby bag. I have to make sure where I’m going is kid friendly or I can’t go. Theo won’t sit for any amount of time he’s always go go go. I have to make sure Theo is eating everything he needs because its so important that he gets ALL of his nutrition. I can’t count on doctors to listen to my worries about my son. So if something was to happen again like the milk allergy that falls on me to figure out. Covid-19 adds a whole new world wind of worries. It takes a village to raise a child, but you need to have a very good and strong village. Sometimes thats not always enough. I love my son to death and I show up everyday being the best version of myself because of that love for him. He will always come first in my life ,after making sure I’m okay. He will never know my negative side. I am his calm to his chaotic emotions. I knew life was going to change. I just didn’t realize I’d have absolutely no freedom. Unless you count going to get groceries freedom? I just don’t, especially with covid-19 and the fact I have to be home by a certain time. Babysitter with covid-19 is just unsafe for our family. Even then we would still have to be home at a decent hour.

I want to go camping, take a night time drive, reconnect with people, not have a planned outing. Or a planned month/ routine to stick by. When he gets older i’ll get these things back slowly, but for the next 4 years I’m confined to his 1 hour nap. If I’m lucky he has another nap. Or after he’s gone to bed after 7pm. At the end of the day though I’m so tired I don’t even want to shower/eat. If by chance I’m not extremely tired I get to do something for me. Thats hit or miss though. These feelings are more than okay to have. These feelings are normal, honestly. These feelings need to be heard, or you’ll get stuck in this cycle of denial never really enjoying your life. Everyones different. Who said you have to love every stage of being a parent if any stage? Oh right, society did. This doesn’t mean you don’t love and cherish your child. Thats like says everyone is supposed to love every subject in school. Ahah, good luck trying to make that happen. Yet, we all show up and take all the classes we have too. This is a bit different because you don’t love school, and if you do its not like you’d love your child. However, the point is there and has been made. This is said all the time but these feelings honestly won’t last. Your baby will change to a child, to pre-teen, to teen, to young adult then to a full adult. Each stage will be just exhausting, but other things will come back into your life. Your child will be able to handle more freedom, which means you get more freedom back. Do not feel guilty for feeling the way you do, you are human. Your feelings matter. You matter. I know it’s exhausting and can be so horrible but it can be great too. It won’t always be worth it all the time, and THATS OK. Thats real true raw parenthood.

Monique Klassen.

Im so much more now because of this experience. I would not change a thing. Everything in life is a lesson. Because of all this I found my path. I found myself. I may hate it but I love where its taken me. I love my son. I love how much stronger I’ve become through all of this.

NOTHING IS WORTH ANYTHING IF YOU DIDN’T FIGHT FOR IT. Or at least put work into it.

Help is out there. Unfortunately you have to search hard for it. Please do not give up. Keep fighting through the storm. It can’t rain forever, the rain has to stop at some point.

The 811 line for Canada is the best line you can call for help. In my personal opinion.

I’d like to thank everyone that helped us, and still are helping us. You all have no idea how much your kindness through our struggles and understanding through our mistakes have helped us pave our way. It’s saved us in so many ways.