There were a lot of things I didn't expect to feel with the birth of my daughter but the one that takes the cake is the feeling of loneliness.
"But Lydia, you're surrounded by your daughter, Lina, all day. You have your stepson, Logan, at home for the summer and even sometimes your husband, Chris, will work from home." And while this is true, it doesn't make me feel any less lonely.
Even as I type these words, I am caught in a weird feeling of shame for even writing them. I am very fortunate to have my stepson at home (who is 16 and can have adult conversations with me) as well as my husband who can sometimes work from home. But even with the two of them home, I still feel myself yearning for something more. Not to mention that even having a child, when so many women are struggling with miscarriages and infertility, make me writing a post like this, feel a little shameful. After all, isn't having a baby what I wanted?
Last night I went out with a friend, who is also a mom, who asked me "[Which of your friends] do you see the most during your maternity leave?". When I answered her that it was her, she was shocked. As much as she makes an effort to come and see me (which I am so thankful for), it's not a whole lot. Being on maternity leave in the middle of a pandemic really doesn't help with people wanting to come by and see you (or you wanting them to come by because you fear how that will look).
Not to mention, many of my friends are also parents who are busy with their own children and work during the day. I had a friend who told me that she is always worried to call me because she wasn't sure if Lina would be sleeping and didn't want to disturb me. And I completely understand that since I also feel like I can't reach out to my friends who are working (or even off on maternity leave) for the exact same reasons -- I don't want to disturb them or wake up a child during their nap time. Just a little FYI that I will forever have my phone on Do Not Disturb so you will not wake a sleeping baby, I promise.
What makes it even harder for me is that I was usually the friend who would call my friends and/or show up to their houses to spend time with them and their children. Having a new baby of my own, I'm often stuck needing to stay close by my own house for nap times and feedings (although I have successfully fed Lina once outside in a park and was very proud of myself). I also have a few friends who have moved out of Ottawa, so that also makes it difficult to see them and the time zones make it even harder to even speak with them on the phone.
I do understand that part of the loneliness I feel is in the changing of my identity. Becoming a mom changes your priorities and perspectives -- and sometimes this doesn't jive with your current friendships. I've had a number of my friends who are moms tell me that they really found out who their real friends were when they had kids since it felt like some of them just dropped off the face of the earth. This makes me sad, but I definitely understand the feeling. When you become a mom, many friends stop inviting you to things because they feel you are busy or won‘t want to come. Sometimes this is true, but sometimes it’s not.
It would also be misguided of me not to mention that when you are invited out, it’s often a double edge sword. For one, you are so excited to leave the house to have some adult conversation, to get dressed up and actually let your hair down — both figuratively and literally — that once you’re there, you find it hard to have adult conversations. What you maybe once cared and talked about with your childless friends isn’t something you want to talk about anymore (or have anything to contribute to the conversation) and you find yourself wishing you were back home where you feel useful again. The ultimate catch 22.
On the other hand, you would think that hanging out with your mom friends would be easier -- but this is also challenging. When your children are close in age (or even when they aren't), they often have different nap times or are at different stages developmentally and so you can't just have them "play together".
The act of even leaving your child also feels tough. As a breastfeeding mom, I can only really leave Lina for a couple of hours at a time. I can pump a bottle for her dad or a family member to watch her, but sometimes the effort of planning and doing that makes me want to opt out of the time away.
The loneliness I feel is not only in my friendships, but also in my relationship with my husband. It often times feels like my entire life has changed, while my husband's has not. Most days it feels like he can come and go as he pleases, while I am "stuck" looking after our daughter. Now, don't get me wrong, he is a very hands on father (something I am forever grateful for), but sometimes it doesn't feel like his identity has really shifted, while I look at myself and wonder where I went. Also, as a breastfeeding mom, having a baby strapped to you for most of the day leaves you feeling pretty touched out. Often times the last thing I want when Lina does go to bed, is anybody to touch me. That, and worrying that she’ll wake up, leave me feeling like I might as well just try to go to sleep, in case she does. This fear is pretty paralyzingly for me. It is something I am aware of and actively trying to work on, but it is tough most days, if I’m being honest.
I know the feeling of loneliness, especially during this pandemic, isn’t only reserved for mothers, but most days it feels a little more heavy. The common strategies for coping with loneliness aren’t easy when you have to worry about feeding and nap times and what people might think about your choices during a pandemic. Going to see another mom and her kids with yours? Well that’s sort of dangerous, isn’t it? What kind of mother would you be if you or your kid caught COVID? I had envisioned a very different maternity leave for myself; one filled with coffee dates, play groups and trips out with my baby. These days, leaving my house for a walk around the neighbourhood feels like the highlight. And on days that I can’t do this, like when it’s raining or too hot, it feels like a cruel type of torture.
In order to combat my feelings of loneliness, at the beginning of my maternity leave, I joined a virtual mommy group through the program Mommy Connections and while this definitely helped bring some joy and excitement into my weekly routine, it's not the same as meeting in person. You miss out on the ability to arrive early or linger and allow your kids to play together while you chat with another mom. In addition, I joined a little late so I was added to a group that wasn't in my immediate neighbourhood. While this neighbourhood isn't far from mine, it requires a vehicle to get to (something I don't have access to during the weekday). Recently, I also created a Facebook group for moms so that we could share what’s going on and bring back a sense of community — a virtual village, if you will. That helps, but it’s still not an adequate substitute for face to face interaction; the thing I am craving most of all. With the easing restrictions and reduction in cases in my province of Ontario, I am hopeful that I'll be able to meet with more people in person and enjoy a little less lonely last half of my maternity leave.
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Do you struggle with loneliness in motherhood? What are some ways you combat this feeling?
If you'd like to join my Mom group, please send me a note on Facebook! It really does take a village -- I'd love to help you build yours.