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On Motherhood

I Can’t Remember the Last Time I Brushed My Hair

Each day is a blur of spit-up, diaper changes, potty-training, and snack-retrieving. I’m lucky I have a moment to shower, much less brush my hair.

Getting Real with Kira Hazledine

Right now, the one-month old is sleeping and the sick toddler is watching a movie. (And no, I DON’T want to build a freaking snowman.) I’m sitting at my computer with tired eyes and cold coffee, desperately trying to get some work done while the two of them are sort of settled for all of five minutes. The newborn keeps threatening to wake up, because going an hour without eating is apparently unacceptable. And the second he does, my toddler will also make a demand, I’m sure.

This is motherhood. It’s not pretty.

It’s beautiful.

It’s the most raw experience I’ve ever had. Never have my emotions been so transparent. Never have I felt so vulnerable. Never have I had to make such a sacrifice for needs other than my own, and that’s what makes it so beautiful. Creating life (and then keeping that life alive) is the most pure thing that has ever happened to me.

Despite this acknowledgment of an experience so unique, I’m tired.

I can’t remember the last time I brushed my hair, honestly. I’m pretty sick of the diaper rash from the pads that I’ve been wearing for weeks. I still can’t wear my wedding rings because my postpartum skin is more sensitive than my newborn’s. I spend my evening hours waiting for the final poop of the night before I can finally get some sleep, and this is after wrestling my toddler into her own bed.

I’m also doing a lot of crying. I feel like I’m failing at least ten times per day, mixed in with brief moments of success amidst cuddles and spit-up and dirty diapers. For those moms posting gorgeous Instagram photos with hair and makeup done, I’m envious. I also know that’s not how you started your day. Whatever face we put on for the world, there is an internal struggle. There is constant second-guessing. This. Is. Hard.

So for your moms that haven’t got the energy to do anything but roll from one set of sweats to the next, I see you. You’ll have time to brush your hair some day. It won’t always look like this. Despite the unkempt look, I hope you are still experiencing happiness. I hope you haven’t brushed your hair because of lack of time, like me, and not because of depression. For those moms that are looking glamorous, I see you, too. I know it wasn’t easy to get ready for the day, and I sincerely hope you feel as good as you look. I hope your hair and makeup is the self-care you deserve, and not an attempt to convince the world that everything is fine when it’s not.

Motherhood is not glamorous, but it will always remain the most beautiful thing I’ve ever done, despite my unbrushed hair.

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