The recent surge of the 10-year challenge on social media prompted me to reflect on my life a decade ago. Back in 2009, I was a new mother to twin daughters, and it felt like I was completely submerged. I was overwhelmed by the adorableness of my babies, drowning in bottles, diapers, breast pumps, and tears, all while grappling with profound isolation. I was in the thick of the struggle, and the sound of two wailing infants made me feel utterly alone. Naturally, when asked how I was doing, I’d respond with the ubiquitous, “I’m fine,” and “We’re fine” as if repeating it might make it true.
At that time, fatigue and hormones clouded my judgment, and I was determined to avoid asking for assistance. Even though my partner was navigating this new reality alongside me, I insisted, “I’ve got this,” which really meant, “Please read my mind and figure out where I need help, even though I won’t ask directly.” He was also lost in this new landscape, unsure whether to fetch a bottle or flee from the sound of crying.
If this scenario doesn’t ring a bell for you, then consider yourself fortunate. I’m no longer embarrassed to admit that I was completely overwhelmed ten years ago. Back then, I was adept at projecting an image of control, putting forth tremendous effort to conceal the chaos of my life from anyone who dared to step into my world. When you repeatedly assert that there’s “nothing to see here,” people either begin to believe you or learn to keep their distance. Thus, I found myself on an island of isolation, far removed from any potential help.
In those early days of motherhood, the waves of babyhood crashed over me relentlessly, leaving me gasping for air. Simultaneously, I was head over heels in love with my daughters, which only added to the complexity of my emotions. I was hanging by a thread, unable to envision anything beyond the immediate moment, let alone a year or a decade ahead. My focus was solely on surviving each day, keeping them clean, and adhering to the advice to “sleep when they sleep.”
Survival, at that time, was all I could manage. While we were certainly not thriving, I could put on a show for the outside world, presenting a polished image of normalcy when given enough time to prepare.
Perspective, my friends, plays a crucial role in our experiences. I failed to recognize that the overwhelming moments were fleeting; what felt like years was often just a matter of months. I didn’t realize that seeking help didn’t make me inadequate but rather signified honesty and self-care. The façade of “fine” became my prison, and I willingly stayed locked away for too long. I unintentionally pushed my partner away with my walls built from “fine” bricks and missed moments of shared peace.
Caught in my own perspective, I thought I was doing the right thing. As the primary caregiver, I clung tightly to every aspect of parenting out of fear of inadequacy. I believed that if I couldn’t manage it all, I was failing as a parent. Each day, I inflicted self-criticism while maintaining a façade of calm with phrases like “everything is fine.”
A decade later, I wish I could embrace that younger version of myself. I long to offer her the gift of uninterrupted sleep and remind her that this phase is just a tiny moment in the grand scheme of motherhood. I would chuckle and tell her that the challenges of today are merely the easier part of the journey. The woman I’ve become in 2019 would undoubtedly astonish 2009-me, perhaps even provoking a playful confrontation due to the vast difference in outlook.
Perspective can be both enlightening and blinding. It shapes our passions and creates boundaries, but it can also trap us in our limited visions of reality. We hold onto our truths so tightly that we often miss the broader world around us—what good does that do?
Reflecting back, the exhausted mother in the accompanying photo had just taken her daughters for their first vaccinations. They would only settle down between my legs or on my chest, a comforting closeness that I still cherish. I remember the moment my sister captured this photo, thinking, “I look terrible, and all I want is some sleep.”
In 2009, I was doing the best I could with the knowledge I had at that time. We can’t hold ourselves accountable for what we didn’t know. What we can do, however, is strive to improve as we learn. Those babies are now in fifth grade, and they still occasionally curl up on my bed, where I now cherish each moment because my perspective has shifted. My heart and eyes are wide open now.
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Summary:
This reflection on motherhood through the lens of the 10-year challenge sheds light on the struggles of new parenting, the importance of perspective, and the value of seeking help. A decade later, the author recognizes the fleeting nature of those overwhelming moments and emphasizes the growth that comes with experience.
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