To the mama without a village: I see you

The village they all say we need to raise our babies. The village they all say we should use to give ourselves a break. The village they all say we need to survive motherhood. But many of us mothers don’t have a village.

Some of us have a life removed from our network. Some of us don’t live near family. Some of us have only ever known motherhood without a village.

So, to make up for the void, gap, and hole where the hypothetical village of help, connection, and support would be, we have had to sacrifice and build our own village from scratch.

We have made intentional connections with workmates who have turned into best mates. We have fostered special relationships with neighbors to have eyes and ears close by. We have started conversations with other mothers at the playground to build a network. We live for the daily pleasantries with the corner shop owner and the lady who takes her morning walk right past our home to feel less alone.

But, sometimes, no matter how many playdates you go on, how many sidewalk chats you have, or how much you try to cultivate a makeshift village, it still doesn’t cut it. That much-needed, easy, familiar, personal network is still missing.

That safety net of a grandma who can have the kids for a night on the weekend. That breath of fresh air of an aunt who can pick them up from school. That unspoken magic of a sister who comes over with dinner and wine when your husband works late. That bear hug of a best friend who brings coffee without warning so you can debrief about the sleepless nights without the worry that you’re still in your pajamas with no makeup on. That is off your doorstep because your village is elsewhere.

So, instead, while you’re busy building a new makeshift version of a village, you make sacrifices, and you make do. You count on your partner, say no to events, and handle as much as you can on your own.

You alternate with your other half when booking nights out, and date nights together are rare. You take turns being late to work so the kids can all be dropped off and taking turns taking work off to look after them when they’re sick.

You pay babysitters when you can afford it and call in favors when it’s absolutely necessary. You have very little ‘me time,’ and when you get a slice of unexpected freedom, you’re often overwhelmed with how to spend it, worried you’ll waste it.

There are no sleep-ins, school pick-up reprieve, cheeky drinks after work, or kid-free doctor appointments. There are plenty of events where you have to bring the whole family and very few events where you get to stay the entire time.

There are times when you feel lonely, isolated, exhausted, and depleted. Times you resent your partner because they can’t be the whole village you need when you know in your heart that they can’t.

It really is a lot: a lot of output, a lot of energy, a lot of sacrifice, and a lot of doing it alone.

So here’s to the moms who don’t have their village for whatever reason, the moms who are everything to everyone 100% of the time. It takes a special kind of mother to navigate this hood alone.

[This post was originally published by @littlejemmings on Instagram and has been republished with permission from the author.]