Parenting is a bossy monster that can swallow us whole.  If the loneliness doesn’t get us then perhaps the stress will.  If we survive all that then we probably have daggers of envy being flung at our back by other parents.  In other words, no win, in the belly of that monster sort of situation.

I’m obligated by the threat of my children reading this at some point to say that It Is All Worth It And I Wouldn’t Trade It For Anything but when I say it can get ugly, I speak from experience.  When my husband and I were grappling with our first year of parenting, we saw our childless friends drift away, wondering why we couldn’t even make it out on a Friday night with a 1 hour warning.  One hour, isn’t that enough time to find someone to watch the baby?

New parenthood and especially new motherhood can be an overwhelming experience.  From the outside, people may wonder why we become so obsessed with our children, so changed by the experience.  From within, we all know why, even if we might not be able to find the words for it.

For these reasons and more, I have truly enjoyed visiting The HerStories Project over the past few months.  It is a site developed by Dr. Jessica Smock and Stephanie Sprenger.  With their own essays and guests writers, they explore the experience of motherhood and all the triumphs and pitfalls we find with our search to balance the act of being a mother and still retain some sense of self.  I am a mother of a preschooler and a toddler and often I feel guilty for not having a thriving social circle.  I read HerStories essays published about friendship and my mood lightens because the words, no matter how the writer presents them typically tell me that I’m not alone.  And for me, that is what I need and want to hear as I spend the majority of my days conversing with two little souls who don’t watch The Bachelor and cannot commiserate with me about loss of sleep and a social life.

Earlier this month, I had an essay published on their site.  I wrote about how a friend who was willing to help me through the early days of motherhood (that turned out to be quite dark).  You can read it here:  Even At 2a.m.

Of course I want you to read MY essay.  I wrote it in the hopes that someone else could find a connection with it or even find wisdom in the words that my friend spoke to me.  However, I encourage you to stick around and find more essays that speak to you.

And I promise, you will find many.