“Who’s awake right now?
At night I sometimes wonder
is every twinkling star outside another tired mother?
All in it together
But doing it alone
Soothing little cries
From the darkness of our homes…”
– Jess Urlichs
At night, as I nurse my son to sleep and rock him in my arms, my mind drifts to all the homes around the world where mothers across the globe are connected by the gentle push and pull of motherhood. The maternal, feminine, nurturing nature that comes with being a mother.
We’re all connected, although we are all apart… watching little ones take first steps, navigating the big emotions of toddlerhood and making choices around our parenting styles in the hopes that we may heal generational wounds and protect our children from the weight of the world.
It is with an audible sigh – and a hand to my heart – that I recognise that at any one moment, there are mothers doing the best they can in their motherhood journey: just like me.
And with equal weight I can feel my heartache for the mothers out there who are doubting themselves. Who do not feel the gentle energy of recognition that other mama’s are traversing motherhood in a similar vein to themselves. The mother’s who sit awake at 3am feeling alone and isolated, unable to see that it is not only their light that is on in the early morning stillness.
I was once one of those fresh new mama too, with no idea of what to do or how to do it… I felt the anxieties of needing to do motherhood “right” and felt alone in so many of the new and unchartered territories that came with mothering my son. Despite my work in maternal mental health and matrescence, the experience of motherhood was confronting for me. I longed to feel the security that comes with trusting oneself, and felt overwhelmed by the number of voices and opinions that tried to guide my way through early motherhood.
It was not until I had said goodbye to the 5th lactation specialist to step through the doors of our home, and burst into uncontrollable tears at yet another person telling me that I was doing it wrong, that I made the decision that something needed to change. It was from that moment on that I felt empowered enough to stop listening to others and begin to lean into the small part of me that felt, instinctively, that I knew what to do. That somewhere, deep within my being, was a true and powerful part of me that had a sense of how to be.
Ever since that day, I have rarely doubted my decisions.
All the evidence I needed to trust myself was in the experience I had subsequent to that moment: of wholeheartedly enjoying motherhood. Feeling an incredible sense of connection, joy and wonder at my experience and the little life I was supporting.
Motherhood has been the making of me.
And so, I sit and write these words from a space of understanding. Mama, I see you.
I know what it is like to fumble in the dark, to feel overwhelmed by the world of noise surrounding you and to feel the pull that comes with the desire for certainty and the known.
Yet, what I have experienced as I have embraced my own version of motherhood is that, in leaning into my own vulnerability and trusting my inner wisdom, I have opened myself to the wonder and possibility of all motherhood has to offer. I don’t need the answers any more…
As Brené Brown says:
“The definition of vulnerability is uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure. But vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our most accurate measure of courage.”
I truly believe that motherhood is the most courageous thing we will ever do as women.
So mama, I want you to know: I see you. I see you in all of your vulnerabilities, in the beautiful chaos of motherhood as you try to find your way. You are doing an incredible job.
© Kendra Blake. All Rights Reserved.
© Kendra Blake. All Rights Reserved.