Transitions in Motherhood

BY : ANNA BOOTH

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“It’s more of everything. More laughter, more tantrums, more diapers, more exhaustion, more baths, more snuggles, more mouths to feed, more emotions, more memories, more love.”

It’s the answer I’ve given several times when asked how it is having three kids. 

Three kids, three and under. It’s wild and joyful at our house. As exhausted as I am at the end of every single day, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

And I absolutely was not prepared for it. 

You can’t prepare for three kids. You can’t prepare for one kid! The way they will wreck your world in the best way, the way you will learn more about your own human heart as you nurture theirs, the way you didn’t even know you could love in a way that made you physically ache, the way you ask yourself almost every day if you’ll actually make it to the end of the day with everyone (and the house) in one piece. 

You can’t prepare, but you WILL be ready when it happens. Your heart will expand, your capacity will grow, and a new version of you as a mom will be birthed with each baby. 

Being ready doesn’t mean you’ll do it perfectly or have all of the answers. It just means you’ll do it. You’ll do it because you have to, because you get to, because when those babies start showing you love back you won’t be able to imagine not doing it. 

Please hear me that being ready also doesn’t mean it will be easy. It won’t be easy. With each transition in motherhood, there is a grieving process, a saying goodbye to the previous season. Whether that’s a birthday, reaching a new milestone, or adding another baby to your family, your heart needs time and space to process. And that is not easy to make room for while you’re tasked with the every day feat of keeping another human alive. Mothers are amazing, okay? We’re trying to tend to our own hearts while keeping the little people fed and clothed and answering the endless questions. That’s incredible. 

My big transitions as a mama have been full of grief. I spent the last few months as a mama of one in such physical pain I could barely walk. I grieved what I thought those months would look like, and I learned that my kids only need me to be present, nothing more. I spent the first few months as a mama of three in deep emotional pain as I faced massive life changes and processed trauma. I grieved what I thought those months would look like, and I learned that I will never feel adequately prepared for what I’m called to walk through, but I will be better for it.

My daughter came first. She made me a mama, and I sobbed the night before her first brother was born because I didn’t believe I could love another baby as much as I loved her. And then I did. And I loved her even more as I watched her love him. 

When her second brother was born, I struggled to like her even while loving her deeply. All of our anger came out towards each other. Her brother was hospitalized for 10 days at two weeks old, and we both struggled. Her world turned upside down, and she didn’t know how to voice what she felt, and I battled postpartum depression that manifested as rage. In a similar way, I didn’t know how to voice what I felt either. 

I was grieving so much, and so was she. It was a necessary part of our transition into a mother of three and big sister of two, but it was not easy. 

I took some steps to care for my mental health (another blog post for another day) and did my best to make space for her to feel what she needed to feel. I was telling my OB doctor at my 6 week checkup about her angry outbursts, and he said “next time, just hug her”. So we did lots of that. Lots of hugging through angry tears until both of our bodies softened into each other’s.

We also have talked a lot in the last months about the importance of letting our feelings out, but doing so in a way that doesn’t hurt others. We have practiced screaming into pillows and punching blankets. Letting the anger leave our bodies, but in a way that keeps us and everyone around us safe. 

I never thought I would have these conversations with my three year old. (Yes, she’s three. And we’re screaming into pillows together and talking about the definition of empathy. I don’t deserve her.) I also never thought I would have three kids before I turn 30, feeling wildly inadequate some days (read most days), but also incredibly sure that I’m the right mama for them. I have watched myself grow right alongside them, and I like this version of myself. 

I’m softer and don’t care as much about the things that just really don’t matter. I put more energy into getting my kids to belly laugh and less energy into caring about other people’s opinions. I trust my gut more with my third baby than I did with my first, and make more time to care for myself because I know I’ll be better for them if I do. 

The transitions are hard. They are not without tension, and it may take you longer to settle in than you hoped or expected it would, but I encourage you to lean in. Lean into the process of becoming the mama your growing kids need. You were never meant to be the mama your 10 year old needs on the day they were born! They shape you as you nurture them, and together you will learn each other. One day at a time.