My First Mothers Day (A Real Reflection)

I would be lying if I said I woke up refreshed and joyous to a shining sun and breakfast in bed. I’d be lying if I said the only love I need is my baby’s. I’d be lying if I said I love being a mom.


I don’t lie so imma spit my truth.


I woke up to baby crying for milk at 7am. I woke up, washed my postpartum pimply face, brushed my teeth, weighed myself to see if my postpartum weight magically disappeared yet (nope) I made my own breakfast (a leftover chicken parmesan sandwich and fries; it was quick and didn't want it to go to waste!) and sat down to ingest my usual Sunday youtube videos with baby in my lap.


It’s a good life. I got my ish together. We’re comfortable. We're grateful. We count our blessings everyday, but there is always one thing glaring back at me when I reflect on my current life.


No one seems to care. Not even the people that are supposed to. Like babies father I've know for 15 years. Like my family. Nobody CARES. Lol


This is where i’m supposed to say, but that’s okay. Only opinion or person that matters is my own.


Yes. wholeheartedly so.

But no. not at all.


like being a mom. I love watching my baby grow and I look forward to the many years we will share together, however...


I hate being the only person she depends on. I hate thinking about what would happen if I was no longer here for her. I despise being the victim of a stupid generational curse, having to suffer from the outcome of being desperate for help and dealing with a hardship that plagues many moms all around the world


I’m a single mom. Before I was a single mom I was a single Black woman. Between the two I was in a half assed on again off again relationship for all of 2 months with someone i've known for 15 years. I thrived before I was a mom and I will continue to thrive now, but I’m never celebrated.


People do not celebrate me. And it pains me to my core.

I’m aware of how pretentious this sounds and no, I’m not bothered by it.

I see my value and my worth and am pissed that I’m the only one who gets to enjoy it or recognize it.


Graduated College. No celebration.

Got some seriously impressive jobs (not even my parents batted an eyelash)

Bought a house (overly critiqued by every boomer I told)

Learned how to walk again (asked for help by loved ones and was denied)

Had a damn baby (no baby shower in sight)


Me saying this is not ignoring the things that others may have done for me. There are 2 big pictures: 1. my love language first and foremost is quality time 2. there is no consistency in sight.


Years ago I vowed to celebrate myself and that would be enough. Well I celebrate myself every chance I get, but all it does is leave me with a bitter distaste for humanity.


Getting back on topic. Mothers day.

So though this is a joyous occasion to celebrate the fact that I am a mother, it is a reminder that people really just don’t give a fuck lol.


I gave birth to Ms. baby at 30 weeks. C-section. Placenta issues led to her having breathing issues and being at a very low birth weight. 6 months later she is doing well, 4.5 months development, happy, making noises and well on her way to crawling and eating real food.

She is a complete joy, but embarking on every single new journey alone really gnaws at ones emotional well being.


I genuinely did not think having someone witness my life (and helping a sista out!) would be such a struggle for me, but thinking back. I grew up with only one avenue of support, my father. My overall family has never been a reliable form of support. Since I haven't made many friendships that turned into family, I guess this was bound to happen (If I didn't find a supportive partner with a family, which, woop, did not happen (yet).


Being a single mom is lonely AF. Being single for long periods of time in general is/can be lonely AF. This is coming from a girl who enjoys her alone time. I have damn near lived the last decade alone. And who knows I may live the next decade with just me and baby. At least I can say I did it my way.


I'm pretty sure this leaves people with questions, but they'll be answered in due time. The process of healing is not linear.


Last thing. Why am I writing about something so personal? To understand myself better. And because I'm not the only one dealing with it. Representation, the positive and not so positive, matters.


Happy Mothers Day to me.

Happy Mothers day to all the single mothers.

I would be that mother that “changes” things and throws a country wide Breakfast event for single mothers so we can all feel loved, seen and appreciated.


But guess what.


I’m tired.


I’m just another human woman trying to make sure my kid is alive, loved and thriving.

Trying to make sure I’m alive, love myself and thriving as well.


And that will always be enough.






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