Feeling So Needed

Words & Photography
by Caroline Snider



I don’t know how to write this. It seems heavier than it is. The words sound like noisy weights falling clumsily into a world full of gratitude. Maybe I won’t feel like this again in the morning. Maybe I will. Maybe that’s all of us.

I want to be clear I didn’t look like this today. In fact, right now I don’t remember the last day that I did. I can’t remember the last time I did something simple like get dressed or drink a glass of water or brush my teeth before I left the house. The last time my brain wasn’t listening for a cry whilst I showered hurriedly half way through the day. The last time I caught sight of myself in the mirror and felt anything close to recognition not pity. The last time my mind wasn’t willing itself just to get through the day.

The baby naps and time dissolves into a list of chores and that lump in my throat begins to build and I just want 5 minutes with my own thoughts. And sometimes I want to scream. And the minutes run through my fingers and the day passes out from under me until, bone-tired, I crawl into bed unwashed and uncared for, all the while making a mental list of the things I need to get done tomorrow.

The needs of my family feel so loud and more present than any grace or self care I could offer myself right now. The baby naps and time dissolves into a list of chores and that lump in my throat begins to build and I just want 5 minutes with my own thoughts. And sometimes I want to scream. And the minutes run through my fingers and the day passes out from under me until, bone-tired, I crawl into bed unwashed and uncared for, all the while making a mental list of the things I need to get done tomorrow. And I know it will wait, I know it’s all supposed to wait, that’s what people tell you isn’t it? Leave it. Sleep when the baby sleeps. The house will wait. But I can’t make that work. Can anybody? Is it just one of those useless things we tell new Mothers? Because everybody needs clean clothes and a bathroom to bathe in and sheets to lay on and food to eat.

And right now, right in this minute, I feel like I am drowning. Drowning quietly in my own neglect just trying to keep up. Trying to make peace with feeling so relentlessly needed. Trying to make peace with the idea that this isn’t my season to write a book or take an exercise class or paint my toe nails or anything in between. But still trying not to lose sight of myself.

I am so lucky. I am so grateful. I know I will figure out how to do better. This is just where I am right now.