BOUNCE BACK>!?

Let's get real for a moment, and talk about something that, frankly, doesn't get enough airtime: the myth of "bouncing back" after having a baby. It's a phrase that is carelessly tossed around, expecting new moms to somehow revert to their pre-baby selves as if nothing life-altering has occurred.

But here's the hard truth - having a baby turns your world upside down, and the person you were before? She's transformed, irrevocably. My brain? It feels like it was pulled out with my placenta.

Remembering what happened an hour ago, let alone trying to recall the person I was over ten months ago, before my body took in a new tenant.

The expectation to "bounce back" is not just unrealistic; it's borderline cruel.

The physical discomfort, the plunge in self-esteem - those are just the tips of the iceberg.

The real kicker is looking in the mirror and not recognizing the person staring back at you. It's supposed to be easy for others to understand, right?

And then there's the loneliness. The shift from being the center of attention, the pregnant goddess, to feeling like nothing more than a glorified nursemaid, invisible yet entirely responsible for this new life.

Empty promises of help and support leave behind a stark reality - there's no such thing as rest, not in the hospital, and certainly not at home.

Hospitals, with their endless cycle of prodding, poking, and questioning, feel less like sanctuaries of recovery and more like torture chambers where sleep is the forbidden fruit, always just out of reach.

The irony is that, amidst the chaos and discomfort of figuring out your new routine at home, you find yourself missing those same nurses once who held you hostage, simply because they, at the very least, understood one component of your bittersweet new set of challenges.

The pressure to "bounce back" is not just unfair; it's a form of torture. It disregards the trauma, the overwhelming burden of bonding, and the monumental shift in identity that comes with motherhood.

Returning home doesn't bring relief; it introduces a new challenge - reconciling with a version of yourself that was born the moment your child was, a version that is seemingly invisible to everyone but you.

So, no, I haven't "bounced back," and I refuse to apologize for it.

This journey of motherhood is complex, filled with unparalleled highs and soul-crushing lows.

It demands a redefinition of self, an acknowledgment that the person you become after having a baby is forever changed, and that's not just okay; it's beautiful.

Let's start embracing this truth, offering support and understanding instead of unrealistic expectations.

Because the truth is, the only "bouncing back" we should be talking about is bouncing back from the judgment and pressure society places on new moms.

(mic drop.)