Over the past two years, I have been actively engaged in physical therapy, and I find myself attributing much of my physical struggles to my children.
Years ago, I watched a makeover reality show where a woman, with unkempt hair and weary eyes, lamented, “I completely let myself go after having my children!” At that time, I couldn’t fathom how someone could let their self-care slip so drastically. Fast-forward seven years and two kids later, and I find that I have become that very woman.
“Letting yourself go” extends beyond mere appearance; it signifies a profound neglect of self-care, both physically and emotionally. I could have been the lead in a production titled “Lost, Girl”—where did I go? That question echoed in my mind.
I consider myself an incredibly fortunate mother in virtually every aspect, yet I sacrificed my well-being for the sake of my family.
Through my experiences in physical therapy, I have come to understand how a single malfunction can trigger a cascade of issues within the body. My knee injury weakened my quadriceps, leading to a misalignment of my kneecap, which in turn made climbing stairs painful. This forced me to compensate with my hips, resulting in discomfort, tight IT bands, and misaligned shoulders. My range of motion deteriorated, my posture worsened, and I felt like a sway-backed horse.
Physical therapy brought to light everything that was amiss. I discovered that my stance, gait, and balance were all off. This journey was both educational and emotionally taxing. I felt anger and frustration—why was my body betraying me? Who was responsible for this? While rationally I recognized that my injuries stemmed from a skiing accident, emotionally, it was easier to place blame on my children who were right there in front of me, unlike the skier who lost control on a Colorado slope. This burden of blame weighed heavily on me, more so than the physical demands of carrying a 40-pound toddler.
Coincidentally, around the same period when my body began to falter, I also started experiencing anxiety. I was diagnosed with a peculiar congenital eye condition and found myself grinding my teeth at night, all while battling intense fatigue.
My children didn’t cause my downfall, but they were the proverbial heavy straws on the already burdened camel’s back. Eventually, I reached a point where I could no longer care for my family without first addressing my own needs. I stopped waiting for someone to intervene and help me, akin to a publicist canceling a star’s world tour due to exhaustion.
Despite feeling like I was on the same path as my elderly neighbor, I developed an appreciation for simply being upright. I assembled a support team: a skilled massage therapist to alleviate hip pain, a psychotherapist to address my mental health, a Pilates instructor to strengthen my core, and a reliable babysitter—along with a backup babysitter and even my father—to facilitate my appointments.
I learned to appreciate simple movements and accepted the possibility that I might never run again. My physical therapist informed me that my body’s current state was simply how I was made, and I had to come to terms with that.
I began to limit carrying my three-year-old whenever he demanded it, prioritized taking naps, and incorporated exercises like leg-lifts and shoulder workouts into my routine. I invested in a foam roller, ankle weights, and resistance bands, driven by the fear of being unable to keep up with my children or even climb the stairs to my bedroom.
Most importantly, I realized that being a mother does not equate to martyrdom. Rediscovering my own needs did not detract from my children’s well-being.
Today, I no longer attend physical therapy. My shoulders are back in alignment, and most days I can navigate stairs without discomfort. However, saying goodbye to PT was daunting; I feared my body would falter without professional guidance. Could I truly care for myself independently? The answer is yes, although I am not alone. My supportive network—my three-year-old, my six-year-old, and my husband—helps me piece my life back together with love and laughter.
Motherhood may have cracked me open, but it also possesses the power to heal.
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In summary, embracing motherhood has been a transformative journey that has reshaped my understanding of self-care, resilience, and the importance of support systems.
Keyphrase: motherhood and self-care
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