I grew up without a biological mom, which made me feel unequipped to be a good mom myself. It’s because of this that I decided early on that I never wanted kids.
But, as I learned, life often takes unplanned turns, and I got pregnant and gave birth to my first daughter when I was 20 years old. I was scared, but most of all, I was determined. Since I knew what it was like to not have a mom, once I became one myself, it’s like a flip switched and I had a burning desire to be the best mother I could be. I would give my daughter the antithesis of what I experienced myself.
When my daughter was 6 months old, I started college courses, driven by the belief that I couldn’t expect something of her that I hadn’t accomplished myself. For years, I struggled to understand how a mother could abandon her children, as I loved my daughter more deeply than anything I had experienced before. I could never fathom leaving her, no matter how difficult it got.
In those early days of my daughter’s childhood I juggled being a new mom, working and attending college. Often, I felt like a single parent because my spouse spent most of his days at his demanding job. Whenever our daughter reached a new milestone, it was often me who was there first to cheer her on. When our daughter needed new clothes or shoes, it was me who brought her to the store to buy them. And when our daughter was sick, it was me who had to miss work or a college lecture. Sometimes, I even took my daughter to my college lectures when I couldn’t arrange childcare.
At the time, I didn’t know there was a word for my role, but now I do. I was the default parent, but to an extreme. My resentment and frustration ultimately led to the end of my first marriage.
When I remarried 8 years later, I knew exactly what I wanted—and what I wouldn’t ever tolerate again. My husband and I planned to have a child together and we discussed how we would both manage our careers and share the parenting load equally.
Once our son was born, my worst fears became a reality. We fought over sharing the mental and physical load of parenting a newborn—and I experienced postpartum depression.
There were days when I wanted to run away. I finally understood how a mother could abandon her children—the overwhelming nature of having a newborn and PPD made the idea of escape seem tempting.
Luckily, I had the resources and a husband who was willing to get the support we needed to pull us both out of the dark and into a better place, mentally, physically and emotionally. At our son’s first pediatrician appointment, the doctor sensed something amiss and shifted gears into marriage therapist mode. My husband expressed that he had suggested we hire a nanny, but I refused. The pediatrician couldn’t understand why I was unwilling to accept help from a nanny. I had the expectation that the support would come from my husband. I swallowed my pride, adjusted my expectations and compromised. We agreed to hire a mother’s helper who quickly grew into a full-time nanny after I realized what my life as a mother could be like with trustworthy and reliable support. Those few hours of help gave me breathing room (sometimes literally) as she allowed me the space to focus on my mental wellbeing.
Having this additional support liberated me, liberated my marriage and allowed me to enjoy motherhood rather than feeling overwhelmed and resentful.
Hiring a nanny truly saved my marriage.
My husband, as a business owner with over 150 employees, could not realistically divide the domestic load as we had both expected. Just as it’s unrealistic for mothers to balance their careers, domestic responsibilities and motherhood, something has to give, and we all deserve support. I now have a household manager who takes care of laundry, meal prep, and other duties, allowing me to be fully present and engaged with my children.
My motherhood journey inspired me to start my own company, Hello Nanny, where I passionately encourage mothers to accept help and set aside their pride. Society has unrealistic expectations for modern mothers, and I feel strongly that telling mothers that they can ‘have it all’ without adequate support should never be normalized.
I have no shame in admitting that accepting help is essential for maintaining one’s sanity and nurturing strong family bonds. Take it from me, because I’ve been there—I now see the light and I never want to go back. And I want that for you, too.
This story is a part of The Motherly Collective contributor network where we showcase the stories, experiences and advice from brands, writers and experts who want to share their perspective with our community. We believe that there is no single story of motherhood, and that every mother’s journey is unique. By amplifying each mother’s experience and offering expert-driven content, we can support, inform and inspire each other on this incredible journey. If you’re interested in contributing to The Motherly Collective please click here.
