Motherhood. It’s hard, but few understand why.
It’s not the day to day tasks, really: caring for children, kissing boo boos, and all of that.It’s the giving. The endless giving of yourself.
You’ve never given so much in your life.
You give until it hurts and then you give some more.
You give until you’re scraping the bottom of your giving well and then say to yourself, “I’ve given everything I have. Every moment. Every possession. Every selfish part of me, I’ve given it.” And then you give some more.
You give until it feels like you’re cutting off pieces of yourself.
You give until you become afraid that there won’t be any of you left.
You give the little treasures that you tucked far away with lock and a key.
You give and give and give.
You give at 3AM when you’re so tired that you’re hallucinating, walking into walls, and putting the remote in the freezer.
You cry and scream “I have nothing left” and then you give some more.
And the audience says, “Well you chose this so don’t you dare complain” and you try to explain that while, yes, it hurts, yes you’re bleeding and feel alone, you wouldn’t change a thing.
And then you keep giving while warm tears fall on your cheeks.
That’s what makes motherhood hard. It’s not the diaper changes or hectic dinners, it’s the giving.
Cry if you need to. Get away for awhile if you can, although you probably can’t.
Maybe one day your child will turn to you and say, “thank you,” but most likely they won’t until it’s their turn to hold a squishy baby who can’t settle at 2AM or a toddler who needs a hug even though you’re touched out at 4PM.
Keep going. Keep loving.
This is motherhood.