It takes a village
to raise kind, generous kids.
You are our village.
If there is anything I have learned about being a mom in the past 2 years, it is that you can't do it alone. We are tribal people. We were made to rely on one another, to support our weak, to raise up our faltering, and to be the strong blazing the trail when we were able. Yet our modern society has evolved to be one of isolation. Marks of our success include leaving our families, building demanding careers, buying our own homes, and somehow managing to raise our children without anyone ever seeing us struggle.
I have realized recently that my concept of motherhood and my understanding of my role as a "mother" in society have evolved. I used to think that society had it right. That I was supposed to "make it" on my own, and that somehow every woman before me had done the same. And, worse than that, I should only show the world the glorious, shining moments of motherhood. Not the long, dark, trials.
Well, it might come as no surprise to mothers reading this that as I began seeking out my "village," or my "tribe," my view of motherhood changed dramatically and my role of mother became lighter. In hindsight, I realize that this tribal support actually began in the NICU. Sure, these people were paid to be my tribe, but they rallied around me and my babies with open hearts and support. (And I can tell you this, no NICU nurse takes up her charge for the financial gain.) They supported us when we were weak.
Once home from the hospital with our babies, life was challenging. We went from receiving 24 hour hands-on care and emotional support, to providing 24 hour hands-on care and emotional support. The transition was sudden, exhausting, and crippling.
I craved the visits of family and friends, but coveted the quick text messages from those checking in on me and on us. Almost always, those messages came from other moms who knew what I was going through and quietly extended their encouragement. They raised me up when I was faltering.
What amazed me about this support from other women in the early days is that it was always quiet, subtle, and hushed. When I began to feel comfortable sharing my struggles with others, without fail women would say to me: "I know. Bringing baby home was so hard and exhausting. I don't know how you are doing it with twins!" And the truth was, I didn't know either.
Why did I have to feel so ashamed to share my struggles when almost every mother's reply to me was that they had experienced struggle in the early days as well? Were we all just putting up the front that society had come to dictate for us? I decided then that I would be real, be honest. I would continue to share my joys--which had become plentiful--but would openly share my struggles to help other mothers or expectant mothers realize that they were in good company, and that the village was not just there for their children, but for them as well. In the past two years I have become stronger, and have committed to blazing the trail for those who need the way made for them.
The best part of blazing the trail? I am not doing it alone. You are all here with me. Reading, Sharing. Liking. Donating. And most importantly, encouraging. This journey is one that we share with our friends and family, our tribe, our village. Thank you for being our village.
Remember, just as our village continues to grow around us, yours will grow around you. Be sure to invite it, to welcome it, to foster it, and to share it with your children. We are better together.
Join Our Journey: http://www.marchforbabies.org/ChiuBabies
Follow me on Instagram @merrymommyblog
to raise kind, generous kids.
You are our village.
If there is anything I have learned about being a mom in the past 2 years, it is that you can't do it alone. We are tribal people. We were made to rely on one another, to support our weak, to raise up our faltering, and to be the strong blazing the trail when we were able. Yet our modern society has evolved to be one of isolation. Marks of our success include leaving our families, building demanding careers, buying our own homes, and somehow managing to raise our children without anyone ever seeing us struggle.
I have realized recently that my concept of motherhood and my understanding of my role as a "mother" in society have evolved. I used to think that society had it right. That I was supposed to "make it" on my own, and that somehow every woman before me had done the same. And, worse than that, I should only show the world the glorious, shining moments of motherhood. Not the long, dark, trials.
Well, it might come as no surprise to mothers reading this that as I began seeking out my "village," or my "tribe," my view of motherhood changed dramatically and my role of mother became lighter. In hindsight, I realize that this tribal support actually began in the NICU. Sure, these people were paid to be my tribe, but they rallied around me and my babies with open hearts and support. (And I can tell you this, no NICU nurse takes up her charge for the financial gain.) They supported us when we were weak.
Once home from the hospital with our babies, life was challenging. We went from receiving 24 hour hands-on care and emotional support, to providing 24 hour hands-on care and emotional support. The transition was sudden, exhausting, and crippling.
I craved the visits of family and friends, but coveted the quick text messages from those checking in on me and on us. Almost always, those messages came from other moms who knew what I was going through and quietly extended their encouragement. They raised me up when I was faltering.
What amazed me about this support from other women in the early days is that it was always quiet, subtle, and hushed. When I began to feel comfortable sharing my struggles with others, without fail women would say to me: "I know. Bringing baby home was so hard and exhausting. I don't know how you are doing it with twins!" And the truth was, I didn't know either.
Why did I have to feel so ashamed to share my struggles when almost every mother's reply to me was that they had experienced struggle in the early days as well? Were we all just putting up the front that society had come to dictate for us? I decided then that I would be real, be honest. I would continue to share my joys--which had become plentiful--but would openly share my struggles to help other mothers or expectant mothers realize that they were in good company, and that the village was not just there for their children, but for them as well. In the past two years I have become stronger, and have committed to blazing the trail for those who need the way made for them.
The best part of blazing the trail? I am not doing it alone. You are all here with me. Reading, Sharing. Liking. Donating. And most importantly, encouraging. This journey is one that we share with our friends and family, our tribe, our village. Thank you for being our village.
Remember, just as our village continues to grow around us, yours will grow around you. Be sure to invite it, to welcome it, to foster it, and to share it with your children. We are better together.
Join Our Journey: http://www.marchforbabies.org/
Follow me on Instagram @merrymommyblog
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