Self-care is one of those words that gets thrown around a lot. There’s physical, mental, emotional, nutritional, financial… and, well, there are probably a few more that I’m forgetting. Even before I became a mom, keeping a balance was a challenge. But now that I’m a mom to an energetic toddler and very pregnant with baby number two, I’m finding the struggle to be real—like, “I can’t even make it through the day without feeling like I’ve run a marathon in a swamp” real.
Let’s talk physical self-care. I’ll admit it: I used to be the early-riser, gym-obsessed type. I was the person who would wake up at 4 a.m. (yes, you read that right—4 a.m.) to get my sweat on before heading to my teaching job at 6:15 a.m. I loved feeling strong. I loved taking care of my body, fueling it with healthy food, and watching my muscles grow. It was my thing. Fast forward to now, and I’m 8 months pregnant, and I can barely swipe a broom across the floor without gasping for air. Playing with my toddler on the floor? A struggle. Crawling, climbing, lifting, running around with her? Laughable. The guilt? Heavy.
Not being able to physically keep up with my three-year-old has been one of the hardest parts of motherhood for me. I can’t help but feel like I’m failing her in some way, even though I know deep down this is just temporary. (I won’t be pregnant forever—thankfully!) But right now, it feels like a constant battle between my physical limitations and the mental and emotional guilt that tag along for the ride.
Now, instead of just feeling shitty about my body, I’m turning the negativity inward, piling on the self-criticism like a pro. The emotional rollercoaster of pregnancy hormones doesn’t help either. When I start to feel like a walking mess, the emotional spiral starts: I’ll isolate myself, hide away in bed, and avoid the people I love the most (especially my husband). Who wants to risk an emotional meltdown by getting too close, right? But here’s the kicker: when I shut myself off, I feel disconnected from him, and then the guilt builds up again. He deserves a wife who doesn’t let her emotional baggage become a wall between us. He deserves a wife who can work through the mess and still show up.
With all of that being said: Welcome to the downward spiral that is my wellness right now. But here’s the silver lining: I’m trying. Every day, I’m working on the thing that’s bugging me the most. I’m cutting myself some slack and allowing myself the occasional treat (because let’s be real, ice cream is life when you’re pregnant and emotionally charged). Writing this blog is part of the process—venting, releasing, and hopefully getting a little closer to letting it all go.