As soon as I wake up in the morning, I’m already dreading the day ahead.
For the next few months, I’m on maternity leave taking care of my second daughter, Sienna, who was born in late November. Unlike most women in America, I am incredibly privileged to have paid parental leave, but I don’t want to be at home with the baby.
Despite already having one child, I am surprisingly unprepared for the transition from one to two.
I thought that things would be easier the second time around. My experience raising my first daughter Maya should have adequately prepared me to care for her younger sister. But even though I had a relatively “easy” birth and physical recovery with Sienna, so far everything else about having two kids has felt harder.
Most unexpectedly, I am drowning in guilt. I feel like I’m doing everything wrong and that I’m a terrible mother.
In the last week, I haven’t made it through a single day without breaking down in tears.
Climbing out of bed, I head to the nursery to feed the baby. After struggling for weeks to establish breastfeeding with Maya, I am grateful that nursing has come naturally for Sienna.
As Sienna feeds, I watch Maya on the baby monitor while my husband Mike gets her out of bed. He puts “Hop”, her stuffed bunny, on his head and makes a silly face. Maya giggles, and I wish I could be there to make her laugh.
At two years old, Maya is capable of having a conversation, giving me a hug, and making me laugh. Sienna, however, doesn’t do anything but cry.
I’m ashamed to admit it, but I don’t feel bonded to her. I’d much rather be with the toddler instead of the baby.
I feel guilty for having a preference between my two daughters. I should love them equally.
Most people cherish the baby phase, but I’m not one of them.
Maybe it’s because Sienna is definitely not “the easy baby.” She has reflux and gas which make it hard for her to sleep. At eight weeks old, she’s in peak fussiness, crying inconsolably for what seems like hours at a time.
Unlike her older sister, who in retrospect was a great sleeper by this age, Sienna is not yet sleeping through the night. All the parenting books say that comparing siblings is unhealthy, but I notice that I do it automatically.
I feel guilty for comparing my two children. I should treat them as individuals.
When Sienna finishes nursing, I rush downstairs to spend a few precious moments with Maya before she goes to nanny share for the day. I shove the baby into Mike’s arms and give him an angry scowl.
Even with a postpartum doula helping us at night, I am exhausted. My attention is constantly in high demand while my energy is in low supply. I don’t know how to ask for help, so I am bitter instead.
After two months of unofficial parental leave, Mike (who runs his own business) is going back to work today. I’m scared to tell him that I can’t do this alone. I resent him for leaving me on my own. I wish we could trade places.
I feel guilty for wanting to work instead of being at home. I should want to spend time with my baby.
I start to eat a quick breakfast of overnight oats, but Maya starts screaming “I want Mama” and demanding to be held. Everyone says it’s normal for toddlers to be extra clingy when a new sibling arrives, but that doesn’t make it any easier to handle their tantrums. I pick up my thirty-two pound toddler with one hand and scarf down my breakfast with the other.
Sienna starts yawning, so I head upstairs to the nursery to put her down for a nap. Though she is visibly tired, she refuses to fall sleep. I feel like a failure for not being able to quickly soothe her. After thirty minutes of rocking and bouncing and shushing, she finally drifts off to sleep.
I’m not sure how long Sienna’s nap will last, so I run back downstairs to grab a quick snack. The internet tells me that I should help my gassy breastfed baby by avoiding a long laundry list of prohibited foods. But I’m ravenous again (nursing requires extra calories) and can’t withstand the temptation to reach for a bite of chocolate.
I feel guilty for indulging in a forbidden food. I should be able to withstand my own cravings for the health of my baby.
I hear Sienna fussing so I rush to check on her. It’s only been twenty minutes since she fell asleep, but she is wide awake and ready to eat again. The rest of the day continues like this, my focus revolving around the baby’s unpredictable schedule, an endless loop of feeding, diapering, and soothing with no time for rest.
Everyone tells new parents to “sleep when the baby sleeps,” but this advice isn’t practical if the baby is mostly awake. There’s hardly time to feed myself, much less take a shower or a nap. I desperately crave exercise but it seems impossible to sneak in a fifteen minute virtual class so I don’t even try.
Self-care is elusive when I’m barely meeting my basic needs.
When I do get a minute to myself, I’m attending to urgent duties like ordering more diapers or finding baby clothes in the next size. Despite Mike stepping up to do more chores, every day I am falling further behind on my share of errands as my plate fills up with even more baby related tasks.
I feel guilty that haven’t made any progress on my to-do list. I should be more productive.
Before Sienna arrived, I had grand ambitions for my time “off”, hoping to do more writing, get back into yoga, and read up on the latest AI trends. I told myself that I would make the most of my maternity leave and come back to work feeling energized and recharged.
Instead, after dozens of sleepless nights, I’m drained from the constant caregiving. It’s hard to see a light at the end of the tunnel.
A few days later, I’m meeting with my therapist for the first time since Sienna was born.
When she asks how I’m doing, I admit that it’s been a tough two months. Holding back tears, I share all the ways I am blaming myself for not being a good mother. She gently points out that excessive guilt is a symptom of depression, nudging me to be kind to myself.
When I review the signs of postpartum depression, they seem eerily familiar.
Overwhelming tiredness or loss of energy? Check. Difficulty bonding with your baby? Check. Fear that you're not a good mother? Check.
Nearly all the symptoms resonate with me, and I am relieved to understand what is happening.
I have postpartum depression.
Admitting it, if only to myself, already makes me feel a little better.
Over the next few days, I work up the courage to tell my husband. We devise a plan for me to rest and recover so I can start to feel human again (thank you Mike for stepping up!).
I begin to make peace with the wave of emotions that comes and goes unexpectedly, letting the tears flow instead of fighting them back.
As a second-time parent, I didn't anticipate being affected by postpartum depression.
In retrospect, I don’t know why I thought it would get easier the second time around.
The fourth trimester is a vulnerable time for mothers, exacerbated by sleep deprivation, infant care responsibilities, and hormonal fluctuations. It’s not surprising that the demands of caring for both a baby and a toddler can exacerbate the already heightened emotions experienced during the postpartum period.
Yet as parents, and especially mothers, we often set incredibly high standards that are impossible to achieve. The immense pressure we place on ourselves can lead to a sense of failure and inadequacy.
No wonder that the term "mom guilt" is so prevalent.
Through grappling with guilt and the unexpected onset of postpartum depression, I've learned a valuable lesson about the importance of self-compassion. My experience has taught me that it's okay to acknowledge my struggles and to seek support.
I am slowly starting to forgive myself for not meeting the unrealistic expectations that I’ve set for this stage of motherhood.
Lately, when friends ask me how I’m doing, I reveal that the transition from one to two kids has been unexpectedly challenging.
Some days I still wake up with a feeling of dread, but I'm holding onto hope that with time and support, things will gradually become more manageable. I'm learning to take each day as it comes and prioritize small acts of self-care (like writing this post!) amidst the chaos of parenting two little ones.
If you are experiencing postpartum depression, I urge you to be gentle with yourself, to prioritize your mental and emotional well-being, and to remember that you are not alone in this journey of parenthood.
Namaste,
Tamara
Thank you for sharing your story. Post partum is such a delicate and difficult time and you are helping so many normalize their hard experiences. I hope you start to feel better soon. Also, you may consider getting some labs, esp iron and ferritin, drawn as low levels can contribute to how low you are feeling. Iron infusions are life changing, both mentally and physically for many women. Wishing you the best!