Becoming a parent changed my life in ways I’d expected—and in many ways I didn’t.
I expected sleepless nights, endless diaper changes, and the overwhelming happiness that comes with seeing my baby smile and laugh.
What I didn’t expect was that becoming a parent would bring my childhood wounds to the surface.
Becoming a mother wasn’t just the beginning of my son’s story.
It was also the beginning of understanding my own.
The Dream of Becoming a Mother and Building a Happy Family
I always wanted to have children.
When I became pregnant at 39 years old, I felt full of excitement and anticipation. I couldn’t wait to meet my son. More than anything, I looked forward to building a family of my own.
What I didn’t expect was the wave of emotional pain that followed after he was born.
After twenty hours of labour and an emergency C-section, I came home physically exhausted, emotionally depleted, and overwhelmed. There was pressure to breastfeed, produce enough milk, recover from surgery, and somehow know exactly how to care for this tiny human I loved so deeply.
I kept asking myself,
Why does this feel so much harder than I expected?
Of course, caring for a newborn is exhausting.
But there was something else.
I had no village.
I tried to tell my parents and my husband how tired and overwhelmed I felt. Instead of being met with empathy, I was often met with coldness or told, “This is what being a mother is like.”
I began to feel incredibly alone.
As I held my son, I wondered if I had been held.
As I breastfed my son, I wondered if I had been breastfed.
As my love for him grew larger than I had ever imagined possible, I wondered if my parents had felt the same about me.
I didn’t know the answers to those questions.
What I did know was that I felt an emptiness I couldn’t explain.
Then one day, something clicked.
I realized I had felt emotionally lonely as a child.
And now, I felt emotionally alone on my journey as a mother.
I Was Parentified Before I Became a Parent
I’m the eldest of four children.
My second sibling is just under two years younger than me, while my youngest two siblings are more than ten years younger.
From a young age, I learned that being the oldest came with responsibility.
If my younger brother wanted my toy or my food, I was expected to give it to him because “he’s younger.”
As I grew older, I helped care for my younger siblings while my parents worked. I often felt more like a second mother than an older sister.
I don’t remember my parents asking what I needed.
I don’t remember there being much room for my emotions or my needs.
I remember being responsible, helpful, and independent.
Becoming Curious
For months, I couldn’t stop thinking about those questions.
Was I held?
Did someone comfort me the way I instinctively wanted to comfort my son?
Why did becoming a mother feel so incredibly lonely?
The more curious I became, the more I realized that my exhaustion wasn’t only physical.
I wasn’t only recovering from childbirth.
I was grieving a childhood I hadn’t fully understood until I became a parent myself.
For years, I believed I was simply independent.
Now I began to wonder if I had simply learned to do everything alone—because I had to.
As I read about attachment theory, childhood emotional neglect, and emotionally immature parents, pieces of my life slowly began to fit together.
The Unexpected Gift of Parenthood
Becoming a mother didn’t just change my future.
It changed the way I understood my past.
Every time I comfort my son when he’s upset…
Every time I hold him while he cries…
I’m reminded of what every child longs for—to feel seen and emotionally safe.
I’m trying to give those things to my son. And in the process, I’m learning how to give them to myself.
And in loving him, I’m also learning how to love the little girl in me.
If becoming a parent has stirred up emotions or memories you weren’t expecting, I hope you know you’re not alone.
Our childhood may shape us, but it doesn’t have to define us.