Let’s be honest. I’ve been living a significant lie—specifically to my children. I’m not referring to the usual tales of Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy, but rather something much more substantial. Each time I tell my kids that it’s acceptable to fail, or that perfection isn’t necessary, I’m not being truthful. Deep down, I don’t believe those statements, but I say them in hopes that my children won’t inherit my struggles.
I’m unsure where this perfectionist mindset originated, but it wasn’t until I entered adulthood and embraced motherhood that I recognized its grip on my life. That realization hit me hard, and a decade later, I’m still working to overcome its hold.
My first pregnancy seemed flawless. I experienced no medical complications, minimal morning sickness, and I maintained an active lifestyle, looking every bit the glowing mother-to-be. My delivery went as well as one could hope for when bringing a 9-pound baby into the world. I was nailing motherhood—until reality kicked in.
Just two days after giving birth, I faced a struggle I never anticipated: my son refused to latch, leaving him hungry and me in tears. For the first two months, I watched helplessly as my baby lost weight, and I could do nothing but feel like a failure.
Compounding these challenges were my son’s persistent baby acne, which I unintentionally exacerbated by scrubbing his skin daily in hopes of achieving picture-perfect moments reminiscent of Anne Geddes’ photographs.
Fast forward four years, and I vividly recall a moment when he was in preschool, filling out his “Star of the Week” poster. He wrote his “J” backward, and despite being advised against correcting him, I couldn’t resist the urge to intervene. After all, I thought, this poster would be displayed in the classroom—how could I let that backward “J” go uncorrected? He did eventually fix it, but I found no pride in that moment.
Reflecting on my actions, I realize I often prioritized appearances over authenticity. I stressed over trivial matters, such as how my children presented themselves or whether their tasks were executed perfectly. This need for perfection has often overshadowed the joy of simply being present with them.
Now, as I approach 38, I’m the mother of three wonderfully unique children, each with their own special traits. One is a book lover and inventor, another is a kind-hearted creator, and my youngest is a bundle of joy with an adventurous spirit. I want them to embrace failure as a part of life, to learn from their mistakes, and to understand that setbacks do not define their worth.
I recognize that I must lead by example. Teaching my kids that perfection is an unrealistic expectation starts with my own willingness to fail and be vulnerable. Today, I vow to refrain from re-folding the towels after they help me, to let my daughter style her own hair however she chooses, and to celebrate the chaos that comes with creativity. I will cherish their perfectly imperfect family moments.
If you’re interested in learning more about home insemination, consider checking out this excellent resource on pregnancy. For those looking into insemination methods, the Cryobaby Home Intracervical Insemination Syringe Kit is a great option.
In summary, embracing the imperfect journey of motherhood means relinquishing the need for perfection. By allowing ourselves and our children the grace to fail, we foster resilience and authenticity in our families.