Before having a baby, I was always told how amazing it is to have kids and to be a mom. I was told there is an overwhelming sense of motherhood and love, a feeling like no other. I expected this extreme high, almost like the rush of a hypomanic episode. I craved it like an addiction, especially since I had been stable for so long. I wanted to feel that insane, on-top-of-the-world sensation. But when I didn’t feel it, I was left questioning myself, wondering if something was wrong with me.
I didn’t feel pressured by the romanticized view of motherhood that’s often portrayed, but I did expect that having a baby would be different from being a stepmom in a blended family, where the biological moms are still very involved. I anticipated a bond that was so strong, so unique, that it would be unlike anything I had ever experienced. Don’t get me wrong—I feel a bond with my daughter and have a stronger sense of protection with her than with my stepkids. But when I didn’t feel that overwhelming connection immediately, I thought I had messed up. I wondered if having stepkids ruined my chance of feeling that way because, despite doing all the mom things, I didn’t always see myself as a mom to them. This realization made me angry.
The Challenges of Being a Mom to a 4-Month-Old
One of the most challenging aspects of caring for a four-month-old is the constant need for my attention. I can’t just take a nap or tell her to get in the car so we can grab lunch. Breastfeeding has been more difficult than I expected, but not for the reasons I anticipated. I thought it would be hard because of the physical pain and learning to latch, but the real challenge has been the fact that she relies entirely on me and my body to sustain her life. She’s attached to me so often, and it feels like I constantly have my breasts out. In a society that still views breastfeeding in public as taboo, it’s difficult to be out without having to pump and bring a bottle.
These challenges differ from those I face with my stepchildren, mainly because of the age differences and co-parenting dynamics. With my stepkids, I’m co-parenting with their moms and my husband—their dad. With my daughter, it’s just me and my husband making decisions together. My 16-year-old’s mom and I have similar parenting ideas, but our ideas differ more from my 9-year-old’s mom, so I have to be careful not to overstep. The differences in these dynamics can be overwhelming, especially when I’m tired, which is more often now with a four-month-old. Lately, when I feel overwhelmed, I direct the kids to their dad and take a much-needed break.
The Bonding Experience: Stepchildren vs. My Baby
Bonding with my stepkids looked more like building rapport. They were already older when I came into their lives—5 and 12 years old. I had to ask them questions to learn who they were and be there for them in a way that allowed them to trust me. With my daughter, trust is inherent because I respond to her needs. I don’t have to build rapport in the same sense. One of the biggest differences I’ve noticed is the amount of patience I have, which might be solely due to the age difference. I also have a stronger instinct to protect my daughter, which makes me feel a little guilty because I don’t feel it as intensely with my stepkids.
It’s not about finding one experience more or less rewarding; it’s about the unique opportunity to raise a tiny human from the start rather than coming in halfway through their childhood. That in itself is incredibly rewarding.
Balancing Love and Reality
I remind myself that two things can be true at the same time. I can love my children deeply, but I still find certain aspects of parenting exhausting or frustrating. I can hate playing for six hours straight or watching football, which I don’t enjoy, but still show up for my son because being there for him matters. Driving them around or picking them up from school can feel like a chore, but hearing about their day and their stories fills my heart. I remember a moment with my 9-year-old when he was being annoying, as kids can be, but then he brought me a keychain he had made. I felt so loved and seen in that moment. Another time, my 16-year-old told me to just tell his girlfriend’s mom that I’m his mom because “the extra step is too much work.” It made me giggle, but it was also a significant step for us.
I don’t have to remind myself of my love for them on tough days. I know, fundamentally, that I love them. I also know that I can feel other emotions—frustration, exhaustion, even resentment—and it doesn’t negate that love. I would tell other moms that it’s okay for more than one thing to be true simultaneously. You can love your kids and still need a break. You can love them and hate the situation you’re in.
What I’ve Learned on This Journey
Through this journey, I’ve learned much about love—loving others, my husband, and myself. I’ve also realized there are things I still need to work through, remnants of the authoritative parenting I experienced as a kid. One thing I started doing a long time ago that works even better now is noting every joyful moment, big or small. At the end of the year, month, or whenever I need it, I can look back at those moments and see how much joy I’ve actually experienced, even when it doesn’t always feel like it.
I would advise other moms to give themselves grace. Nothing about being a parent is easy, and the world often lies about how it’s supposed to feel. Accept that you can hate parts of the journey and still love the outcome. It’s okay to feel conflicted. It’s okay to need a break. And most importantly, it’s okay to love your children fiercely, even when the rewards of motherhood don’t always feel immediate or overwhelming.
Thank you for reading, and remember, you’re not alone in this journey.
With understanding and love, Stephanie
