Turns out…Crying it out is for the moms!

Everyone says being a mom is hard. In fact, when I was pregnant with E.R., I felt like that was what people wanted to tell me about.  I actually found myself wanting a little less of a reality check and a little more sunshine and rainbows. But even with all of the doses of reality sent my direction, I still found myself of the struggle bus for the first 3…or 4…or 5 months of Etta’s life. (Who am I kidding…I think I’m on the Speed bus some days.)

My very lowest of lows came when I felt like I had zero control over what was happening. I didn’t know why Etta was screaming and I didn’t know what to do to fix it. Or even worse, I KNEW why Etta was screaming and what would fix it, but for whatever reason, the screaming still continued…some times for a Long. Time. 

So, what do you do in those moments? What do you do when you feel like you have no other options in the moment and you’re at your breaking point? I can tell you what I did: I broke. I cried. Over the first several months of Etta’s life – and still to this day – I found that often times exactly what I needed in the hardest moments was just to be broken for a few minutes. I needed to cry out my frustration.  What I struggled with, though, was that every time I cried, every time I felt like I let the struggle get to me and break me for just a little bit, that I failed. Why couldn’t I handle what was given to me? I am Etta’s mom – I should be able to handle this.

Should. A seemingly innocent word that can cut right into your core.  It implies that there is a standard somewhere that has been set in regards to, in this case, what a mom is able to do/fix/handle/etc. It implies that in the instances where we can’t do what we “should” be able to do that we failed -- failed in the moments where I “should” be able to do what my daughter needs, fix what she needs fixed. If there’s some standard somewhere that sets the bar for what a mom can do, who set that standard? Where did the ‘should’ come from?

Here’s the kicker: It came from me.

Being a mom was something that I have always known that I wanted, and after having a miscarriage with our first baby, that only intensified my feelings. Scott and I waited for what felt like such a long time for our sweet Etta girl and I suppose I felt like I owed it to her to have everything under control. I felt like I was made for this, so I should be able to do it like a pro. Scott never came home and asked me what I did that day, why Etta was crying, why I hadn’t taken a shower yet that day, why Etta didn’t take a nap all day.  Our families and friends were ready and willing to give help. But I still felt this overwhelming pressure to have it all together, all by myself.

What it really came down to was this: I was afraid of what it would say about me if I asked for help. I was worried that other people wouldn’t think that I was able to handle it all. The truth is that I can’t handle it all on my own, but that doesn’t say anything about me except for that I’m built exactly how I’m supposed to be. I’m going to quote my pretty brilliant brother on this next part – life is meant to be lived together, with people, in community. None of us can do it, whatever “it” is for you, all by ourselves.  This wasn't a new thought to me - but it was a whole other idea to actually accept that I couldn't be amazing all the time all on my own. We are built to rely on other people for support.

Scott understood this far before I did. (Story of my life...I married a pretty smart guy.) When E.R. was about 4 months old, he sent a couple rounds of S.O.S. text messages to our moms after some particularly difficult, sleepless nights. I immediately received texts from our moms with ideas for helping Etta through this rough patch and offers of grandma time for Etta and help for me. It took him reaching out for help FOR me to realize that it’s ok to ask for help, that I can’t do everything, and that I’m not supposed to know everything.  Not only is it ok to ask for help, that’s what I was supposed to do.  That’s one of the functions of community.  And no one looked down on me for crying, for breaking down, for being lost. Their response wasn’t that I should have been able to do better, their response was to help.

We need others to help us realize that you don’t have to have it figured out all the time and that sometimes you need help. I needed others to help me understand that all the pressure that I was putting on myself with my self-imposed “should” was not necessary. Most of the stress of the “should” could be fixed by having a good cry and asking for help.  

Ask for and accept help. Know that you’re going to struggle. Understand that you were made to rely on others in your circle. When things are tough, cry it out for a minute, find some help, and then keep going. You’ve got this.

In the words of Carrie Bradshaw: Stop “shoulding” all over yourself.