The word blue made me think of Baby Blues.
They seemed to get worse and worse with each pregnancy.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the hormones or the added responsibility that came along with each new edition… but man, it was hard.
I think that the hardest part was the shame.
I didn’t want anyone to know that I was having a hard time with all this mothering stuff.
I call myself a recovering perfect mom for a reason.
I was really
bad about skilled at trying to make it all look perfect from the outside… no matter what I was feeling on the inside.
The adjustment season is rough… but we made it through.
I had to quit doing a lot of things, stop volunteering for a lot of things, and just overall cut myself some slack on most things.
But with confidence I can say that this recovering perfect mom has really come a long way and man, it feels so good!
It feels good to just be me.
It feels good to not have to lug around a heavy mask every day.
It feels good to just know that I am doing my best and that is enough.
I guess in a weird way I am grateful for the “baby blues” as they forced me to dig deeper into who I am and whose I am.
They helped me to evaluate what was really important and what was not.
They helped me to define myself and my value.
So, Baby Blues… Thanks.
(But please know we will never hanging out again)
This post was part of a link up called Five Minute Friday. It is an opportunity to join Kate Moutaung and other fellow #fmfparty bloggers to purely blog for five minutes based on a prompt or word of the day.