when this time of life just isn’t what you thought it would be
Sometimes this time of life just isn’t what you thought it would be.
I sat down to write this blog post about the struggles of new parenthood, and immediately had a tsunami of thoughts around the challenges of this time – unsettled babies, hormonal changes, an overwhelming amount of conflicting advice and unrealistic expectations, a new identity to make sense of, an intense hypervigilance and restlessness, relationship changes and dissatisfaction, feelings of resentment, fatigue and sleepless nights, lack of practical and family support, physical changes to adjust to, and a never ending mountain of washing to attend to. These were just a few. The anxiety I felt was enough to make me want to shut the laptop and retreat to bed.
The number of changes and challenges that occur in the months and early years after birth warrants serious attention. Often though, this is a unique time that is seen and described by others around you as wonderful and joyous. Don’t get me wrong, it sure has its moments where all you feel is wonder and joy, though like all emotions, these are fleeting and this time period brings with it a profound amount of exhaustion and mood changes that can cloud the positive feelings overall.
I think that is where the problem might actually start. Society tends to idealise this period of life, painting it as heavenly and full of sweetness. Though what if you’ve had a baby and landed in a place that feels the complete opposite? What if your baby wakes every hour and is persistently fussy despite your best attempts, and what if every part of your body hurts from trying to breastfeed that baby around the clock?
And what if your partner now is so tense around you because you have become a new version of yourself – a much snappier and critical one!
Often new parents keep quiet about the difficult thoughts and feelings that arise during the transition to life with a baby. They might worry: “If I say I’m struggling, does that make me a bad mother or father?” or “what if I admit how hard this is and people think I’m not coping?”.
What I wish I could whisper in each of these new parents ears is this: there is absolutely room for you not to be ok right now. You do not need to fake it or pretend that you have this all figured out. There is room here for your struggle and your pain. Please stop striving and allow yourself to acknowledge the enormity of what you are navigating right now. You are a beginner and you are beginning. Set the pressure down, go at your own pace (not the pace that exists on social media or the huckleberry app) and please sit down and rest. Oh boy do you need to sit and rest!
Sometimes opening up about your feelings during this time feels so scary. Of course it can seem easier to avoid them and just get on with things. But if you are finding that the days and nights are becoming unmanageable and your feelings of anxiety or failure are suffocating, please say something. Ideally, you could open up to a loved one or someone you feel safe with. But perhaps even that feels to much. That is where a Perinatal Psychologist comes in. Someone to speak with who has a unique understanding of this time through the lens of psychological interventions and attachment.
The truth is, sharing your struggles is not a sign of weakness, but of courage. It helps normalise your experiences and it’s how you access the right support. Whether you’re navigating anxiety, hypervigilance, low mood, irritability, rage, exhaustion, relationship or intimacy changes, or the impact of a difficult birth, your struggles are valid and worthy of support. Reaching out doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It means you’re choosing to care, heal, and prioritise your wellbeing. Often those who lean in and surrender to this find they learn about themselves in a way they never thought possible and open up a door to self-compassion and self-confidence that gives them the foundation to build competency in themselves and capacity in parenthood.
Go speak the secret...this is really hard!!
Written by Teall McQueen (with some help from her wonderful colleagues), Little Matter Clinic.