Today, I reached a breaking point. With my partner away for eight weeks, my eight-month-old struggling to sleep for more than two hours at a stretch this past week, I felt overwhelmed. This was not the first time I had frayed at the edges, but today was different; I felt utterly unravelled. I even found myself locking the bathroom door for a few moments of solitude—twice.
Desperate for help, I reached out to my husband, close friends, and my mother. I also contacted a counselor and an early childhood center. I felt defeated, drained, and lost, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on me. I just couldn’t seem to regain control.
After two hours of phone calls, I managed to schedule a counseling session and an appointment at the early childhood center. I also arranged for two friends to come by during the week to lend a hand.
When speaking with an intake officer, the question of family support came up. Each time, I paused, struggling to respond through my tears. While I do have friends who feel like family, they have their own commitments—shifts to cover, children to care for, and lives to manage. It’s not as simple as asking them to drop everything for me.
As I navigate these feelings, I try to observe them without judgment, akin to cars passing by on a busy street. Techniques from mindfulness apps have been helpful. I return to my daily meditation practice, seeking a place within myself that fosters compassion for both others and myself.
Statistics suggest that one in seven mothers experiences postpartum depression, but I challenge that figure. It seems implausible that only six out of seven mothers escape some form of emotional turmoil during the first year of their child’s life. Many of us suffer in silence, and as I share my experience, I discover more mothers who admit to feeling similarly at some point.
I am currently in the process of healing the emotional wounds that feel exposed to the world. I am doing so by reaching out for help, looking inward for strength, and practicing self-acceptance. I take it one breath at a time, finding joy in small moments—whether it’s dancing in the kitchen with my kids or taking walks along the beach with friends.
I strive to remind myself and those around me that I am not Superwoman, nor do I aspire to be. While I am strong, I also require support and love. I can manage my responsibilities, care for my family, and experience a full range of emotions. I can laugh, cry, break down, and piecemeal my way through it all. I can face each day with resilience, but please, stop calling me Superwoman; it is neither accurate nor helpful. I invite all mothers to join me in rejecting the Superwoman ideal.
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In summary, postpartum depression is a significant issue that many mothers face, yet the stigma surrounding it often leads to silence. By fostering open conversations, seeking help, and embracing vulnerability, we can begin to heal and support one another. Remember, you are not alone in this journey.
Keyphrase: postpartum depression and the superwoman myth
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