About Me

My journey into young motherhood

I never felt comfortable around kids. They seemed too needy, too whiny and they never smiled at me.

So when I found myself pregnant at 20, I wasn’t too happy. In fact, I do believe the first words that escaped my mouth once I saw “Pregnant” on the  test was, “Oh, s&#@.”

To say that a baby wasn’t in the plans was the understatement of my life.

I simply wasn’t ready to be a mother. I honestly didn’t want to be a mother. Not at that time.

I wanted to get married first.

I wanted to graduate from college first, and not have to worry about how I was going to manage my fall semester when my due date fell in the middle of November.

I wanted to have an actual JOB first, not scrape together paychecks here and there.

When the nurse handed my daughter to me after she was born, I wanted to cry. Not from joy, but fear. 

I remember thinking, “Oh, my God. How can they not see that I’m not ready for this? Please Lord, don’t let me screw this up!”

For the first full year of her life, I struggled. Most of my friends and family don’t know it, but I struggled. I never really felt like I knew what I was doing, I would get flustered over the simplest things, I would wonder what my life would have been like if I hadn’t given birth.

It didn’t take long to realize that I had a case of postpartum depression. I felt alienated from all my friends, thrust into motherhood without getting a chance to say goodbye to my freedom.

But as strange as it sounds, part of the reason I was depressed was that I loved my daughter more than anything.

I wanted nothing more than to make her life easier, happier, better. I wanted to give her the best of everything, but I was still in school and my husband was still in his first job out of grad school. On top of that, I had no job. And with journalism jobs drying up left and right, I was nervous that I’d actually be able to get one once I graduated.

But when I walked across that stage to grab my diploma, the fog lifted. My six-month-old daughter smiled and clapped for me and I realized her presence didn’t detract from my life. Instead it made me stronger, more determined and more focused. Everything I’ve done since her birth, everything I’ve accomplished, I owe it all to her.

Finding the happy in the everyday

Almost three years later, I’ve found my mommy groove. I love it. I’m happy.  But things happen for a reason. If there’s anything I’ve learned from being a mom, it’s that your kids come when they’re supposed to. You might think this is bad timing – you wanted to move into a bigger place or get a better job or get married first or finish school, but the truth is, there’s a method to the madness. There’s a reason why your kid needed to be born in a certain year, in a certain month on a specific day. Their birthdays are no accident.

It is then your job to love them up, and raise them in a way that makes you proud, and take care of your little gifts. I know some days are better than others, and you wish you could have more quiet and less screaming. But they are here for a reason. Maybe that reason hasn’t revealed itself to you yet. But it will. Give it time. 

The mission of this blog

I created this site as a space where moms could speak the truth about young motherhood, whatever that means for you. I wanted to share my journey and give other young moms a voice, a place to feel like they belong. So many of the moms I’ve met through this site have gone through the same things – but we’ve all come out stronger. Join me as we discuss what it means to be a young mom – the good, the bad and the ugly.

Whether married or single, black or white, middle class or poor, we’re all young moms. Let’s share our story.