The Quiet Struggle Within…

I am truly grateful to my mother in law with how well I was looked after however, there were moments during those early days when, despite being the mother, I didn’t feel in charge of my own baby. Surrounded by well-meaning family and tradition, I often felt more observed than supported. I was being cared for yes - but also quietly corrected, steered and sometimes silenced. It felt as though motherhood was something I was performing, not living. Deep down, I longed for space to bond with my baby in my own way, to learn through closeness, not control.

Intimate questions asked of what was wrong with me, why couldn’t I produce enough breast milk to fill my baby. Then of course the guilt of feeling like a failure because I wasn’t able to do the one basic thing of providing enough milk for my son weighed heavily on me. The question of why was my baby still screaming early hours waking everyone up in the household even though he was fed, burped, had a fresh nappy on and I was rocking and pacing the room. Honestly… the only answer I had was I DON’T KNOW!

Then we move onto the guilt of me having to go back to work earlier than I wanted. It was hard hearing the harsh comments and judgements about putting my 4 month old into full-time nursery, especially with him spending such long hours there - I felt like it was becoming his second home and it broke my heart. With a daily commute of up to 2.5 hours each way, I knew my son’s sleep was often broken and the mum guilt I felt, knowing he was suffering because of my schedule, was hard to bear. Then came the even deeper guilt of not truly being there for him, as my own mum became seriously ill. I made the difficult decision to leave my job, move back to South Wales, and live with my mother in law so she could help care for my son. I became my mum’s primary carer during that time, while my husband remained living and working in London. It was one of the most emotionally demanding periods of my life - torn between caring for the people I loved most, and trying to stay grounded myself.

So, as you can imagine, it was incredibly hard to feel confident that I was building a secure bond with my son in those early years. I was exhausted, completely sleep-deprived, trying to juggle everything at once. Most days, it felt like there was no light at the end of the tunnel. I did the best I could with the support I had, but sadly deep down, I always felt like I was second best to my son - like I just wasn’t enough! It’s taken a long time to repair the emotional cracks and to fill the quiet emptiness we both carried… but we got through it, together. Looking back, I just wish I’d had someone to turn to, someone who could help with sleep, with reconnection, someone to tell me that not being okay was okay!