Home / Motherhood Understood Kari on feeling trapped and like her baby was a stranger "My flaws are unending, but so is my love, and at the end of the day, my son just wants me." By Motherly November 11, 2019 Rectangle I came home, absolutely terrified. Physically—I was broken. My body had absolutely been through the ringer. I was wearing a diaper the size of Texas. There was no rest, in any sense of the word, because there was no sleeping happening. People told me to sleep when the baby sleeps, but no sleeping was happening then either because my anxiety was through the roof. I was checking to see if he was breathing every couple of minutes—literally feeling the intense need to put my hand on his chest and feel his heart beating for confirmation he was still alive. It was utterly exhausting. I remember laying in bed sobbing over how much I loved my son and husband and could not begin to imagine losing either of them. There was this intense fear over loss and every fiber of my being was on edge. It was like I was electric and come anywhere near my static and you would be shocked. Then something snapped. I looked at my son and didn’t even feel like he was mine. Who was this baby? And why did he never stop crying? I was leaking milk everywhere, my boobs ached and I started getting angry with this baby I couldn’t remember bonding with—even though I could have sworn I was just sobbing with intense love for him. I wanted someone to just take him away. Far, far away from me and my once quiet, comfortable home. I simply wanted things to go back to the way they were before his abrupt arrival. Everything felt out of control. I wanted to escape so desperately, whatever that entailed. This feeling of being trapped had always been an arch nemesis of mine, and the feeling had skyrocketed past any level I’d ever experienced. It was like I had been locked inside a tiny dark box with no wiggle room, limited air supply and a screaming baby with no “off” button. I was terrified. Terrified of what I would do to my child if I lost my mind—and I felt like I was losing it. Then overwhelming guilt set in and I became terrified of what I would do to myself. The guilt and shame over failing my child as a mother only two weeks in to his precious life was the most painful aspect of the experience. I had one job, and I firmly believe I had failed. Everything I had believed myself to be as a mother, everything I had been taught that a mother should be, I had fallen short of and there was nothing but self-hatred and disappointment in myself. Embarrassment would be a sore understatement as I watched my own mom, mother-in-law and husband care for my son in ways I was supposed to. I lied in bed in the darkness of my room with my eyes open, tears rolling down my cheeks, listening to my job as a mom being done by people who were not me, because I was incapable of getting out of bed. My husband’s tired eyes made my heart ache as I tried to will myself out of this dark hole I had fallen into. Those were some of the toughest weeks and months of my entire life. I had dealt with depression before, but having another little life in the picture intensified the situation and significantly increased the costs. There were very real moments where my brain was not functioning correctly and I dabbled with plans to end my life. I cannot even write that sentence without shaky hands and tear-filled eyes because of how scary those moments were, and how grateful I am to still be here with my son. Many doctor appointments and medication changes later, I am loving my life, loving my son and quite possibly, most importantly, loving myself. Because is it really possible to love our tribe well if we can’t start by loving ourselves? Motherhood was everything unexpected for me. My expectations were far from met, and there are still days I struggle with disappointment over the first six months of my son’s life. I still have days of disappointment over not being the “mom” I thought I would be. But at the end of the day, I am the mom my son needs. The mom that I am does not fit a certain mold, look a specific way or even win me a mother of the year award. There are still very hard days where the thought runs through my head, “Who do you think you are to be a mom?” But I am a mom. A mom who loves her child endlessly. A mom who rocks her son to sleep and knows his favorite foods and lifts him up in the air above her head over and over again because she could listen to that giggle forever. A mom who stays up all night long because her baby is sick and just wants to be held. A mom whose greatest desire is to raise a son who is kind above all else. My flaws are unending, but so is my love, and at the end of the day, my son just wants me. Flaws and all. For all you first time mama’s out there: you got this. You are exactly who your baby needs. And just remember that no matter what happens today, you get to try again tomorrow. And luckily for us, there’s a tiny face waiting to greet us at the start. Categories: Motherhood Understood Related articles Postpartum This viral text is changing how we support moms who just had a baby February 4, 2025 Motherly Stories Hiring a nanny saved my marriage August 18, 2024 News Joy-Anna Duggar opens up about postpartum depression: ‘The darkest time of my life’ October 22, 2024 Women's Health I was a ‘walking zombie’ with undiagnosed PPD—but like so many other women, I never received help July 29, 2024 Postpartum Products Supermodel Karlie Kloss shares her 5 motherhood must-haves February 16, 2024