Imperfect Catholic Mama

I have heard many times that it takes a village to raise children. And I would agree. But with a friend recently having her first baby, I’ve found myself reflecting on my own postpartum experience. It does take a village to raise a child, but just as much, if not more so, it takes a village to raise a mother.

Motherhood: No Prior Experience Necessary

While a women becomes a mom the moment she’s pregnant, there’s a real difference between a baby on the inside and one on the outside. There’s a real change and learning that happens in order for the baby and mother to make that transition.

I grew up fifth of eleven kids. I’ve been babysitting since I can remember. I nannied full-time for 4 years. In preparation for the arrival of my first baby I took a 12 week birth class, read a half-dozen other birth books, read a two inch thick breastfeeding book from front to back, bought a car seat, clothes, diapers, etc. and yet I was not prepared to become a mama. I needed a village.

What is a village?

Now, when I say “village” I don’t mean a group of straw huts in the middle of nowhere. Here perhaps your mother lives with you, along with your grandmother, and every little hut around you has aunts, cousins, and friends at different phases of life ready to aid one another.

No. One’s village is no longer this picture of primitive humanity. Nor is it an inter-generational home, as in some parts of the world.

Rather, a village today is the support system you have and build around you. For many it is family, for others it’s a church community, and for many more its a plethora of online and remote resources, communities, and friends. And most likely, it’s a combination of all of these.

My Village

Within the first couple weeks of my baby arriving we had a dozen friends (some people we hardly even knew) bring us hot meals, some complete with dessert, breakfast, or even a bottle of wine (which was the BEST!).

I’d contacted one experienced mom of 10 for breastfeeding help, and since she was out of town, she immediately reached out to another mom and sent her my way. She did not leave me to struggle on my own or to wonder who else to contact for help, but took an active part in my village.

That mom came over multiple times to help out and give pointers. Thanks to her support, breastfeeding became easier and my daughter and I are still able to enjoy this aspect of our relationship a year and half later.

One of the most crucial persons in my village during those early days was someone who lived several hundred miles away. Someone whom I never spoke with in person during that time, but texted at least daily, if not multiple times a day, my questions and concerns. She always had reassurance, an answer, and an empathetic “it’s hard.”

That empathy was not a mere bonus to my village, it was as much a necessity as the meals and breastfeeding support were. I needed, as every mom does, emotional support as much as physical support. I needed to know that I was not alone, that my struggles were not unique to me or because I was doing it all wrong. I needed a village.

The transition to motherhood is a big one.

When I had my baby I learned I did not know near as much as I thought I did. And there was no way I could have foreseen and answered all the questions and concerns about my little human before she came out.

Could I have prepared better? Sure, I have a list of things to acquire before the next baby comes and one can always read more.

But there is no book in the world that is a substitute for real, personal experience and loving empathic friends. I needed the wisdom of more experienced moms and the support of friends and family. There is no way I could have become a mother without my village. It takes a village to raise a mother.

Credit: Feature Image by vecstock on Freepik