A Mother’s Struggle with Postpartum

Motherhood is a blessing

I thought I was fine, I thought I was strong. But tonight I fell apart, I couldn’t hold on. Postpartum hit me like a wave of despair. I felt angry and impatience, I couldn’t be sane.

I wounded the ones I love, I made them shed tears. I want to take it back, I want to erase it but the scars are there, the shame is in place.

I’m not a bad mother, I’m not a failure. I’m just a human being who is struggling and healing. I’m giving the best I can with what I got. I don’t have to be flawless, I just have to be me.

I lie in the dark and pen this poem. I sob and I scream, I feel unknown. But I also sense a glimmer of hope and power. I believe I can survive this, I believe I can blossom.

I know postpartum is real, I know it’s not a joke. I know it’s a battle, I know it’s a quest. I know it’s a part of me, I know it’s not the whole. I’ll accept it and use it, I’ll make it my ally.

I’m not alone, I’m not isolated. I have people who care, who support and listen. They don’t judge me, they don’t blame me. They love me, they help me. They are my family, they are my friends.

I know postpartum is hard, I know it’s not easy. I know it’s a journey, I know it’s a process. I know it’s a challenge, I know it’s an opportunity
I’ll face it and embrace it, I’ll make it my strength.