motherhood is lonely

and the myth of the village raising the child

In the early days of motherhood, bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, awash in spit-up, and unable to form sentences with more than four words, I was looking for some sort of port in the storm. The newborn life is one of intense emotions: a fierce love for this precious life that you have brought into this world but the lows, dear God the lows, immersed in hormonal drops, feeling the swings of emotion as if your body were fighting against its very self.

As the days began to stabilize and showers thankfully became more commonplace, I realized that this journey of motherhood was one I was embarking on alone. My husband was at work all day and my two very best friends in the whole world, well they were working and raising children themselves and so here I was, alone. Yes, I went to story time at the library and yes, I tried to meet other moms, but none of these things truly panned out the way they were supposed to. Or the way society told me they ought to.

And so, I was alone.

I had heard about social media and this thing called Twitter and created a log-in to see what all the fuss was about. This was when Twitter was in its infancy and was still where you could meet and actually talk with like-minded people. I found that on the hard days of motherhood when it was threatening to pull me asunder, I could connect with people and read their blogs and hi-five people virtually when good things happened to come their way. I found a lifeline to help get me through.

But I still didn't have a village.

Instagram proposed to be that semblance of comradery, but it soon turned into an aesthetic showpiece where people posed for photographs showcasing how they were winning at motherhood and how I sadly was not. Motherhood became a sort of competition on Instagram: who could throw the best birthday party, who could have the best Christmas, who could make her kids the most photographical but also delicious but also fit in with their color scheme, meals ever created, and look how they absolutely loved it!

Not my village either.

Maybe the season of life I am in doesn't require me to have one. But maybe I have a village and just don't know it.

The truth of the matter is that motherhood can be very, very lonely. People don't always want to talk about the loss of identity you experience when you are no longer called by your name but are now referred to as "so-and-so's mom". They don't always want to talk about late night googling of symptoms or the best ways to potty train your child because you have no one to ask. There are beautiful and wonderful highs to motherhood absolutely, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. But some days you feel sad, and it is okay to acknowledge that.

And so, I have had to piecemeal my village. I have my incredible husband who is so supportive. I still have my two very best friends who live miles and miles away but are available by phone when I need their support. I have a tiny few online acquaintances who don't even know that I consider them part of my village, but whose very presence helps me every day. Sometimes it is just them sharing a thought they had that day, other times, it is a blog post they wrote that I resonated with. Other times they remind me that I need to drink my water for the day. But their steadfast presence makes up my village.

I can't speak for the future. Maybe in a new season of my life, I will have a different village filled with new faces and warm smiles. Maybe I'll move to a new town and find an established village there that will be welcoming. Either way is fine because I am still me. The loneliness comes and goes but I have me to rely on.

And right now, that is enough.