Dear averstance,
I never thought I'd be a single mom. Life had other plans, and that's just how it goes.
When I found out I was pregnant, I felt terrified but also hopeful. I imagined my partner and I working together to make parenting easier.
But, by my second trimester, our relationship was ending. My partner was not ready to be a dad, and while I couldn't imagine leaving my baby, he could. So he left.
Suddenly, it was just me and the baby growing inside me. I told myself I could do it. Women have been single moms before; sometimes, I don't believe it. But I didn't expect how lonely and overwhelming it would be.
The first few months after my baby was born were a blur. I was always exhausted. Lack of sleep turned me into someone I didn't recognize. Some nights, I rocked my baby while he was crying.
Every time he cried, it felt like he was telling me I wasn't a good mom. I felt defeated. Is he hungry? Did I hold him wrong? Did he sense my anxiety?
Then there was postpartum depression. It caught me off guard and lasted longer than expected. I'd learned about it in a pre-natal class but never thought I would experience it.
I loved my baby, but some days, it felt like the weight of the world was crushing me. How could I feel so disconnected from someone I loved so deeply? The guilt was overwhelming.
Money was a constant source of worry. Diapers, formula, and baby clothes were costly. My maternity leave ended too soon. I had to return to work before I was ready. Every morning, I'd take my son to daycare.
I fought back tears as I left him with strangers. I'd spend the day distracted, worrying if he was okay, if he missed me, and if he was eating enough. And when I picked him up, the mom guilt would hit again—was I working too much? Was I giving him enough attention?
Support from friends and family was hit-or-miss. Some people tried, but they didn't get it. “You're so strong,” they'd say as if I had a choice. They avoided me. My struggle made them uneasy.
But there were bright moments in the chaos and self-doubt, like when my son smiled for the first time. His big, gummy grin melted all my frustration. Or the nights he slept in my arms, his little chest rising and falling with mine.
I drew strength from the small win. Therapy became my lifeline. I practiced self-compassion.
As a single mom, I didn't have to be perfect. It was a relief to talk to someone non-judgmental. I didn't need advice like “get over it.” Just having that support was a lifesaver. I only had to show up, do my best, and forgive myself when I fell short.
Things are still a work in progress. Some days, I feel very overwhelmed and struggle to stay calm.
However, there are moments when I look at my son and feel an overwhelming sense of pride.
Sleepless nights and money woes haunt me, but he's growing and flourishing, becoming his special person.
Although being a single mother wasn't my path, it's the one I'm on. It's not perfect and can be messy, but it's filled with love. And for now, plenty of love is enough.
Anonymous averstance COMMUNITY SENDER
