New mamahood can be lonely, but it should never feel isolating

Alone. It’s an interesting word.

Sometimes I really love it.

I will literally ask my husband a leading question like: “don’t you want to go to the beach with your paddleboard for a few hours?”

And then when he says “oh yeah, that sounds great” (assuming I want to go along), I’ll say something like “great! You head out, I’ll stay here”

I will relish the sound of the door closing, the car starting, and the gentle lull of emptiness.

 

I actually really enjoy being alone. It’s rejuvenating, calming, inspiring.

And yes, sometimes it can be lonely.

But the moments with just myself and my thoughts are precious.

I can more easily observe them coming in and out of my mind.

Letting go of the ones that don’t need to be there.

I can lie down and do nothing.

I can accomplish a task that had been sitting there for a week waiting for my undivided attention.

Alone.

 

Isolated is different.

Isolated makes me feel scared, like I could scream at the top of my lungs for help, and no one would hear me.

No one would come find me and ask what was wrong.

 

To be alone without feeling isolated requires a safety net.

It means knowing that when the front door shuts and my partner takes off in the car, my solitude is not forever.

He’ll be back.

Or a friend will pop over.

Or the phone will ring with a call from a family member.

It’s not scary.

 

In this day and age one of the things that prevents isolation is story-telling.

The simple acts of sharing words can build a bridge.

It can finally give you the answer to the question of “am I the only one?”

The answer is a resounding “NO!”

 

You are not alone.

What you are feeling has been felt before.

What you are thinking has been thought before.

What you are losing sleep over has kept mothers up at night for centuries.

But the silence has also been going on for too long.

 

Silence is what can turn being alone into being isolated.

Silence can turn peaceful solitude into loneliness.

That’s why we must create a space for those feelings, thoughts, and sleepless nights to be shared.

For the stories to be heard.

For the questions to be asked.

And for knowing smiles to break out on your exhausted face when you read a story that you could have written yourself.

 

That’s why the Mama Stories series was created.

 

Words written by other mothers that resonate deeply.

Stories of discovering your inner power when you feel weakest, or finding that light of confidence when you felt inadequate.

I like to think of these stories as a gift to mothers.

The gift of knowing you are not alone.

It’s the gift of that empty silence now being filled with the stories of motherhood struggles and triumphs

Some of the same one’s you have been experiencing.

The gift of laughing because you have experienced that same joy.

The gift of crying because you have felt that same pain.

The gift of endless differences and common truths.

 

When you sign up for the mama stories you will be sent a new story each day for 10 days.

There will be some funny ones.

There will be some sad ones.

There will be some that make you nod your head and chuckle.

There will be some that make you say “oh hell no, so glad that wasn’t me!”

 

Here’s what other mamas have said about the series:

 

“You know what is so beautiful about this series? It talks about the things that don’t ever REALLY get talked about. Everyone is always acting like they have it all together. I always felt alone. I don’t when I read these posts.”

“I can completely relate to the stories. So glad there are inspiring yet brutally honest mamas around!!!!”

“I feel strong after reading this!”

“There’s just SO much to say about postpartum stuff, and I had an incredibly hard time getting through that period myself. This will definitely help other women get through it more smoothly than I did!”

 

You can sign up here to have the 10 stories sent directly to you.

 

Want more resources about building a postpartum support network? Check out Chapter 8 of The Expecting Entrepreneur.