By the time our twins were four weeks old, I felt particularly discouraged. Bringing two babies into the world was a lot more difficult than I could have ever imagined.

Almost a month into newborn life, I was running on fumes – physically and emotionally. I wasn’t sleeping, I wasn’t showering, I wasn’t leaving the house. I didn’t feel like myself and my ability to fully recover was limited by the near-constant demands of caring for two newborns.

It’s like I was functioning on a sad version of mommy autopilot. I felt numb some days while toiling through the constant repetitive cycle of caring for our crying babies, hour after hour, with little room for much else. They truly needed us all the time. For every bottle to be fed and diaper to be changed, there was another one waiting after that.

And because the earliest days of their lives were the biggest transition of mine, I was so stuck in all of the change. I hadn’t fully processed that this was my new life. There was an overwhelming sense of responsibility to be a perfect nurturer, even though I felt more fragile, tired, and weak than I ever had before – like I needed nurturing myself.

The daily struggle in this era often felt more like survival than a chapter to be cherished. And it broke my heart.

I kept thinking about how other mothers seemed to soak up every precious minute of early babyhood… and here I was, regularly focused on just getting to the next hour. I caught myself longing to fast forward, dreaming about a time months from now when things (hopefully) wouldn’t feel so hard as I cried through yet another bottle feed.

And then I’d reflect on those feelings, only to spend hours every day internally shaming myself for a lack of gratitude and joy. I had been doubly blessed with the miracle of two healthy babies, and even so, I was struggling to feel that special happiness that all my other first-time mom friends had described.

I was so excited to become a mother to two sweet babies, why am I not enjoying this dream come true?

I questioned whether I could succeed in this new life role. What if these feelings meant I wasn’t capable of being an enthusiastic mother to these tiny people that deserved the world? It felt like I was doing something wrong every day when I imagined them older and easier to care for. I was weighed down by a sense of guilt that only made it harder to be present in the many wonderful moments that I was wishing away.

The reality is that the newborn days with twins are beautiful – but for me, they also felt more than twice as hard.

And while a lot of people warned me that this would be hard, I wish someone had told me that it was okay if every moment didn’t feel like bliss. It is okay if it feels hard.

I didn’t have to burden myself with guilt for admitting that. 

I wasn’t a bad mother for struggling with the newborn stage. I had given every ounce of myself to uniquely difficult chapter of life – and I needed to remind myself that it’s okay to anticipate the end of hard times.

They would grow, I would rest, we would thrive. I was allowed to look forward to that.