When Your Soul Finally Relaxes

Last week, I found myself in one of those stretches of motherhood that feels almost impossible to describe to anyone who hasn’t lived it. The kind of week where you’re not entirely sure how you made it through, and yet somehow, you did.

It started with gastro. My son ended up in the hospital, pale and exhausted, my husband was with him while I was home with the baby trying to be calm despite the knot of worry in my chest. He made it home. He recovered. I thought we were in the clear until Hazel and then myself caught the bug.

Then came two more infections for Oscar. Different ones. Back-to-back.

The week became a blur of washing - endless loads of sheets, towels, pajamas. Of being thrown up on. Of feeling sick myself but pushing through because there was no other choice. Of surviving on the blandest foods imaginable because that’s all any of us could stomach.

It was all a little crazy.

And then, in the middle of that chaos, I came across this quote:

It’s such a simple statement, and yet it landed with me like permission I didn’t know I needed.

Because here’s what I’ve learned: motherhood isn’t either/or. It’s not “I love my children” or “This is really hard.” It’s both. Always both.

During that brutal week, I was overwhelmed. I was tired in a way that sleep couldn’t fix. I was stretched so thin I could barely think straight. I felt guilty for wanting just one hour - just on - to myself.

But I was also deeply, profoundly grateful.

Grateful that my son was home and safe. Grateful for modern medicine and caring hospital staff. Grateful for a washing machine that could handle the never-ending loads. Grateful that my husband was home this week not away for work. Grateful for my own body’s resilience, even when I felt like I had nothing left to give.

Most of all, grateful that I get to be his mother. That I’m the one he reaches for when he doesn’t feel well. That these are my hands smoothing his hair, my voice comforting him in the dark.

For so long, I thought I had to choose. That if I admitted how hard things were, I was being ungrateful. That if I acknowledged my blessings, I couldn’t also acknowledge my exhaustion.

But that’s not how it works. Life, motherhood especially, is messy and contradictory. It’s beautiful and brutal. It’s the most important thing I’ll ever do and sometimes the most overwhelming.

When I read those words—that I’m allowed to hold both truths at once—something in me softened. My shoulders dropped. The tension I’d been carrying loosened just a little.

My soul relaxed.

Because I don’t have to be a perfect mother who never feels overwhelmed. I don’t have to pretend it’s all easy or all hard. I can be tired and grateful. Stressed and blessed. Worn out and deeply in love with this life I’m building.

I can acknowledge that last week nearly broke me, and also that I wouldn’t trade it. That my son is healthy now, and that matters more than the exhaustion. That the hard weeks make the easier ones feel like gifts.

If you’re reading this in the middle of your own hard week, I want you to know: you’re allowed to feel all of it. The weight of your responsibilities doesn’t cancel out your gratitude. Your gratitude doesn’t invalidate your overwhelm.

Both things can be true.

And when you let yourself hold both, when you stop trying to choose between them—you might just find that your soul relaxes too.