Since the kick off of my working career, for seven years, I've provided and cared for children. I stand behind the following statement:
Motherhood is the hardest job IN THE WORLD.
That journey begins before the child is welcomed to earth. And only those willing to do what it takes to make sure their baby is well and in safe hands is deserving of being called a Mom.
But ladies, when we imagine and dream about the day we build a family,
we fascinate about the perfect partner,
a perfect baby,
and a perfect life.
False realities in time disappoint. But it's OUR consumption of opinions and media to blame. Giving off the illusion that life should be this certain way.
And what does that do to mothers? Wives? Women?
It creates a story in our subconscious that we're not strong enough, worthy enough, good enough.
I write with passion as I introduce our next featured #FeminineFire.
AKA my god sister, my cousin, my sister-by-heart,
Meet Iris Juarez, 24.
Motherhood...
...motherhood, motherhood, motherhood.
It’s not something I wanted.
It’s not something I was planning, especially at this age. But I’m grateful it did. I’ve been a single mother since the moment I found out I was pregnant. Age 23 was when I found out I was going through a second pregnancy.
Instead of feeling happiness I was confused, upset, and terrified.
Why?
Because I had suffered a miscarriage 6 months prior.
I wasn’t in a healthy relationship.
I knew that sooner or later I was going to end up doing all of this alone and it terrified me. And that's exactly what happened. I left behind my toxic relationship of several years and dealt with my pregnancy alone. I worked two full-time jobs and lived by myself with my dogs. I went to all my doctors appointments alone and dealt with the anxiety of thinking I was about to receive bad news due to the trauma of my past miscarriage. I worked day and night, every single day. I came home exhausted, yet still had enough energy to cook for myself, take my dogs on their daily walks. And when I got all the to-dos checked off, then followed my emotional breakdowns. Once again, this became a daily routine for me. I would find myself sitting in my room crying due to my frustration and exhaustion. Emotionally, physically and mentally exhausted.
How was I going to do this all by myself after I give birth? Who was going to watch my baby while I had to go grocery shopping? While I had to go to a laundromat and wash my clothes? What if my baby got sick? What if I couldn’t support us financially? What if I wasn’t going to be a good mother? All the Who’s and What If’s became present.
As my due date got closer, I got increasingly more anxious and overwhelmed. I was killing my mind and body with two jobs and with the extra pounds I had gained, due to the pregnancy, my feet got extremely swollen eventually turning purple.
An extended amount of time passed before I made the decision to leave my evening job in retail. I knew that if I kept that job, I would not be spending as much quality time with my daughter. But then came the “What if” again. What if, I wouldn’t be able to pay any of my bills or to provide for the both of us.
The fear of raising, caring and protecting a baby all on my own and knowing in the back of my mind that another human is also responsible for providing and assisting was maddening. Yet, I knew I couldn’t allow myself to overthink frustrating and negative thoughts as that’d impact my baby inside me.
Two weeks before my due date my daughter was born. July 2nd my whole world changed. I experienced happiness, excitement, and then shadowed the feeling of sadness. My daughter was here in my arms, yet I felt sad and angry knowing I was doing it all alone. I had help from my parents which has helped me tremendously. But it wasn’t my baby’s father. Eventually my routine shifted and now I was cleaning bottles, sterilizing, pumping, breastfeeding, changing diapers, rocking and putting the baby to sleep on top of everything else I had to get done before giving birth.
You know at that point carrying a baby in my belly became so much easier.
Those were mornings and afternoons. Then came the many sleepless nights.
My daughter would wake up at least twice or three times to be fed and took about a half hour to put back to sleep. 4 hours of sleep was all I could have. Time blocking was pivotal for me. Waking up 3 hrs before work to: pump, eat, put myself together, feed the baby and then get her ready.
It was defeating.
And for those of you who tell mothers, “just sleep when the baby sleeps.” Please, as if that was even remotely possible for us! If I even choose to listen to that phrase, nothing would be done.
Some days are harder than others. And although the words you’re reading may sound like I’m not cherishing the journey of raising a baby on my own, this is as real as it gets. The truth of a single parent juggling two lives. The rawness of what it takes to raise a newborn baby on your own. Because the truth is we see life through our own lenses. “our brain has fixed our lenses only to pick up the familiar and the comfortable.” Single mothers sometimes don’t want to show you the ugly, struggling side because we all want to show off as strong independent moms and I applaud every single one that’s doing the greatest to be that.
But enough hiding it and more awareness of it.
I have an amazing ten month old who has literally taken over my heart and who I would do anything and everything for! She has taught me what love is, what sacrifice is, and what happiness is. I’m no longer alone. I do everything for her and her future. Any free time that I can have is dedicated to reading books to her, teaching her baby sign language, playing with her. These are the milestones and priceless moments I could never take for granted and I can only hope every aspiring mother gets to feel and experience.
But most importantly I’m teaching her that anything is possible.
I’m a mother. Powerful and capable.
And I do this sh*t alone. A title not many could speak of, but I'll say loud and clear.
