Welcome. Although I wrote exclusively about true crime on this platform in the past, my life has taken a drastic turn in the last two months when I became a mom. As motherhood consumes me, I have very little time to research and write about true crime stories the way I did before. Instead, I spend most of my days covered in spit up, changing diapers, stressing over naps, and ordering baby products on Amazon. The learning curve is steep and I’m learning something new everyday. My hope is to create a space not just for my own stream of consciousness as I navigate motherhood, but also for the unpleasant realities that comes along with it.
That being said I hope you’re not expecting positivity or for a reminder of how beautiful pregnancy, childbirth, or motherhood is. It’s not lost on any of us that what our bodies can do is nothing short of incredible or that it’s an immense privilege to be able to bring a child into this world. We don’t need a reminder. What we need is the truth…the brutal, unfiltered, truth.
I’m 9 weeks into motherhood and as much research as I did, I have felt wildly unprepared. With social media and podcasts I think more people are starting to share the ugly moments. But on the flip side, there are thousands of creators that make motherhood seem like a trendy aesthetic. It makes you wonder if they have more than 24 hours in the day because while they somehow have time to film and edit these videos, I barely have time to brush my teeth, go to the bathroom, shower, or eat a meal. The “get ready with me’s” from the postpartum hospital bathroom, the “realistic” night with a newborn: these videos are sadly addicting and obviously misleading for soon-to-be moms. I too was sucked into the vortex of #MomTok.
After throwing up for the entire 9 months, I was exposed to the ugly side early on, having never really experienced the beauty of pregnancy that so many talk about. As I got closer to the end of my first trimester, I had so many people tell me I was about to turn a corner. I heard so many great things about the second trimester, none of which I ended up experiencing. There was no glow, unless that glow was green. There was no clear skin, long nails, or thick hair. And no fun cravings either.
So welcome, new moms, second time moms, veteran moms, and soon-to-be moms. This is where I will be trauma dumping in real time (or as close to it as I can get). It’s of course my truth and is by no means a reflection of everyone’s experience. But when our truths happen to overlap, it’s the validation we are desperately searching for when we’re in the trenches searching for an ally.