Motherhood changes the way we think and feel about ourselves. We talked to Ilyse Dobrow DiMarco about how to cope with this upheaval.
new motherhood
It’s not just a celebrity thing. I know lots of mothers who have struck this pose. By Andrea Firth
All my OCD has become focused on making unpredictable toddlers happy and I am exhausted. By Jenny Leon
In the past twelve months you have become Mama and Mommy and Mum, but you are also still you. By Emily Brisse
The internet says this stage can last weeks or months or more. You think to yourself, those experts must be wrong because I can’t take another day. By Samantha Gratton
When I was a new mom, it was easier to shame and blame than sit with the fear that I had made the wrong choice. By Caroline Grobler-Tanner
After my diagnosis, there was no question in anyone’s mind that my daughter was going to be bottle-fed. By Jenny Leon
Behind every “mommy brain” story, there’s a fuller picture. Modern motherhood makes impossible demands. By Nicole Graev Lipson
There have been many moments when I have simply broken down, walked upstairs and fallen face-first on my bed. By Tara Mandarano
I heard the baby crying again, I didn’t get up. I was too hungover. By Victoria Vanstone
Shelter in place has become a cocoon where our family has slowly let this diagnosis of Down syndrome sink in. By Maggie Shafer
Maybe following these accounts is a form of penance for the guilt of being one of the lucky ones who got to take her baby home. By Justine Feron
“Birth mom” does not make me feel like a baby machine without feelings, but it does clarify my role in her life. By Adrian Collins
If my mother is not here, who will show up to bring me flowers when I am vacuumed out,
cells gone, clean, neat, dark, unseeded? By Emily Franklin
They all took turns as babies, then toddlers, riding in the stroller’s deep reclining seat, casually enjoying Cheerios or clutching a favorite toy as I bounced behind. By Cara McDonough
The truth is I dreaded my Friday playgroup as much as I craved it. I stood apart from the other mothers in ways I couldn’t quite communicate or change. By Laura G. Owens
My eyes focus on my abdomen, the bulge pregnancy has left behind. My inner critic opens her mouth…but then I take in the whole picture. By Chrissie Dunham
We would take a million pictures of our child but none of us. Forget to schedule date nights because we never needed them before. By Elizabeth Newdom
I worry with the other moms about whether we’re good at it. Raising another person. By Marni Berger
My daughter collapses after an endless tantrum and says, I wish I wasn’t adopted. By Tanya Friedman
When you blow out the candle for her, be prepared: it will feel like blowing away her first year, your first year of motherhood. By Kaitlin Barker Davis
If my belly was round and full of baby, would I hate my body less? This body that betrayed me. By Brittany Wren
When he was two, I spent mornings stuffing tubes of penne with scrambled eggs to trick him into eating something other than pasta. By Marianna Marlowe
One day infants and diaper bags and hemorrhoids and boobs won’t be hanging off of your person like you’re a cross between a human mobile and a Sherpa. By Catherine Newman
The decision not to find out my unborn child’s sex is perhaps the most intimate and important one I have ever made. By Laine Munir