The Truth About Motherhood: Expectations vs Reality

I remember holding it up to the window, squinting at it like a peeping Tom, turning it over and over just to be sure. Yep, definitely a second line.

It was exciting, joyous, and terrifying all at once. My mind raced. Somehow I already knew she was a girl, and we'd even talked about names. What would she look like? How would pregnancy feel? What colour scheme would the nursery be?

I didn't know the answers, but I was certain of one thing: I was going to nail this parenting thing.

The Motherhood Fantasy I Had Planned Out

My child would never tantrum in public. My husband and I would guide her with a gentle but firm hand. We'd frolic through wildflowers, marvelling at ladybugs and snails, while strangers stopped to comment on our collective beauty. Other mums would ask for my parenting secrets. I'd run mother's group, sipping herbal tea and homemade scones with clotted cream while the children played nicely and we all threw our heads back laughing. Girls' nights would be spent deep in child psychology webinars.

And there was absolutely no way I was ever buying pre-made baby food.

Then Reality Hit — Hard

As it turns out, I was wrong. So very wrong.

Pregnancy itself is brutal. I was promised a "glow," which I've since learned is just a polite way of saying "uncontrolled sweating." I've vomited in more Kmart nursery departments than I'd like to admit, and had more strangers examine more of my orifices than seemed strictly necessary. Nobody warned me that childbirth could mean six weeks of ice bricks in your underwear.

Four months after she was born, I was pregnant again with her sister. I guess we didn't have a Netflix subscription back then.

That baby is now a highly emotional and anxious six-year-old, and most of my day is spent saying "I don't know, go ask dad." The closest we've come to frolicking is a game on the iPad that might, possibly, have some flowers in the background. As for scones and clotted cream, McDonald's still hasn't added that to the dollar menu.

I did watch a webinar once. On mute, while I watched The Bachelorette in my undies, yelling at the screen that none of them were good enough for her.

Surviving (Not Thriving) — And That's Okay

Motherhood is hard, and most days it feels a lot more like surviving than thriving. By the time our fourth child arrived, born, of all times, in the middle of a global pandemic, I'd at least picked up a few tricks to make daily life easier.

A good kitchen scrubber sponge and natural dishwashing bar mean less time scraping burnt pasta off a saucepan and more time eating crumbs out of my bra in peace.

I can disguise the "lights are on but nobody's home" look with a quick skincare Set, and mask the fact that I haven't showered in three days with the pit protector natural deodorant.

The Small Wins That Make Real Motherhood Easier

• Natural Dishwashing Bar — cuts through grease, kind to your hands
  
• MEBEME Natural Deodorant — because dry shampoo can only do so much

We're All Figuring It Out

At the end of the day, we all go into this job fairly unqualified and spend a lot of time on Google. One thing's for certain: we all do our best, and couldn't imagine life without our living, breathing creations.

We love them, we sacrifice for them, and most of all — we are enough.