THE GOOD NEWS:
An open letter by Celeste Erlach shows overwhelmed mothers
how to ask for support.
Taking
care of a newborn baby is mentally, physically, and spiritually exhausting. For
the first four months (at least!), new parents have to dedicate every part of
themselves to caring for this young life.
There’s
little time for self-care during this chaotic period, let alone a moment to be
fully present with a partner.
Blogger
Celeste Erlach is the mother of a toddler and a newborn and wrote a revealing
open letter to her husband asking for more help with their children. It’s going
viral because it paints a very real picture of what it feels like to be a
mother who feels stuck doing everything.
It’s
also important because it gives specific ways for parents to support each
other.
“Dear Husband,
I. Need. More. Help.
Last night was hard for you. I asked you to watch the
baby so I could go to bed early. The baby was crying. Wailing, really. I could
hear him from upstairs and my stomach knotted from the sound, wondering if I
should come down there and relieve you or just shut the door so I could get some
desperately needed sleep. I chose the latter.
You came into the room 20 minutes later, with the baby
still frantically crying. You placed the baby in the bassinet and gently pushed
the bassinet just a few inches closer to my side of the bed, a clear gesture
that you were done watching him.
I wanted to scream at you. I wanted to launch an epic
fight that very moment. I had been watching the baby and the toddler all damn
day. I was going to be waking up with the baby to feed him all damn night. The
least you could do is hold him for a couple of hours in the evening to I can
attempt to sleep.
Just a few hours of precious sleep. Is that too much
to ask?
I know we both watched our parents fulfill the typical
mother-father roles growing up. Both our mothers were the primary caretakers
and our fathers were relatively hands off. They were excellent dads, but they
weren’t expected to spend a significant amount of time changing diapers,
feeding, caring, and tending to the kids. Our mothers were the superwomen who
maintained the family dynamics. Cooking, cleaning, and raising the children.
Any help from dad was welcome, but unexpected.
I see us falling into these family dynamics more and
more each day. My responsibility to feed the family, keep the house clean, and
take care of the kids is assumed, even as I return to work. I blame myself for
most of it too. I have set the precedent that I can do it. And in truth I want
to. No offense, but I’m not sure I want to know what a week's worth of dinner
would look like with you in charge.
I also see my friends and other moms doing it all, and
doing it well. I know you see it, too. If they can manage it, and if our
mothers did it so well for us, why can't I?
I don’t know.
Maybe our friends are playing the part in public and
secretly struggling. Maybe our moms suffered in silence for years and now,
thirty years later, they simply don't remember how hard it really was. Or
maybe, and this is something I berate myself over every single day, I'm just
not as qualified for the job as everyone else. And as much as I cringe just
thinking it, I'm going to say it: I need more help.
Part of me feels like a failure for even asking. I
mean, you do help. You are an amazing father, and you do a great job with the
kids. And besides, this should come easy to me, right? Motherly instincts, no?
But I’m human, and I’m running on five hours of sleep
and tired as hell. I need you.
In the morning, I need you to get our toddler ready so
I can care for the baby and make everyone’s lunches and drink a cup of coffee.
And no, getting the toddler ready does not mean plopping him in front of the
TV. It means making sure he went potty, giving him some breakfast, seeing if he
wants water, and packing his bag for school.
At night, I need an hour to decompress in bed knowing
our toddler is asleep in his room and the baby is in your care. I know it's
hard to listen to the baby cry. Believe me, I know. But if I can watch and
pacify the baby for the majority of the day, you can do it for an hour or two
at night. Please. I need you.
On weekends, I need more breaks. Times where I can get
out of the house by myself and feel like an individual. Even if it’s just a
walk around the block or a trip to the grocery store. And some days when I’ve
scheduled swim class and play dates, and it seems like I’ve got it all under
control, I need you to offer to lend me a hand. Or suggest I go lay down during
the kids’ naptime. Or start putting away the dishes without me suggesting it. I
need you.
Lastly, I need to hear you’re grateful for all I do. I
want to know that you notice the laundry is done and a nice dinner has been
prepared. I want to know you appreciate that I breastfeed at all hours and pump
when I’m at work when it would be easier for me to formula feed. I hope you
notice that I never ask you to stay home from your networking events and sport
activities. As the mom, it’s assumed I'll be home all the time and always
available to care for the kids while you're out and I feed that assumption by,
well, being home all the time.
I know it’s not how our parents did it, and I hate
even asking. I wish I could do it all and make it look effortless. And I wish I
didn't need kudos for doing things most people expect from a mom. But I’s
waving a white flag and admitting I'm only human. I’s telling you how much I
need you, and if I keep going at the pace I’se been on, I will break. And that
would hurt you, the kids, and our family.
Because, let’s face it: you need me, too.”
After
the video went viral, Erlach filmed another thanking everyone who read it and
addressed the biggest question it raised: Did the letter work?
“Yes,
absolutely. Communication works — most of the time,” Ehrlich said with a laugh.
“I told [my husband] all the stuff I’m doing on the back end that he had no
idea about. And then he told me all the concerns and the stress he’s been
having as a new father. Things that I had no idea about. It was so eye-opening,
and I’m so grateful for it.”
Source : good.is