There is no other way to say it: 2024 has been kicking my butt. My family has had way more than our fair share of sickness and health scares. The most recent bout of germs resulted in a scary and long hospital stay for one of my daughters that we are still trying to recover from.
But, in the spirit of trying to see the positive in all the bad, one good thing has come of all the trauma: I was able to see firsthand how much of a village we have surrounding us.
From our family to our church, and from our friends to our neighbors, the outpouring of love and support has been astounding. There was no end to the texts, Facebook messages, and phone calls I received from people offering to help in any way they could. We were given meals, cards, gift cards, and we were encouraged by so many people praying for us and checking on us.
While receiving all of that support, I was surprised to find myself having a hard time saying yes to those sincere offers of help. My inner critic kept telling me that I should be able to handle it all myself. I wrongly thought, “People are just being nice, and I don’t want to burden anyone or let anyone know how badly I am struggling. What if they think less of me for needing help?”
Late one night at the hospital, I came across a post online listing all the things for which there are no rewards. One of those things was “not needing help.” Well, that hit me hard. I started to examine why I wasn’t willing to accept help, and why I was willing to pretend like I could handle it all when it was clearly way too much. I realized I was afraid to accept help because I had put so much of my value as a mother into how many things I could handle on my own. To accept help would make me feel like I was a “bad mom” because a “good mom” shouldn’t need help.
When tragedy strikes or life gets hard, moms think we need to just strap on our supermom cape, and grin and bear it. No matter what else is happening, we think we need to be the one to do it all and do it all well because it’s what we believe is expected of us. For me, vulnerability feels like weakness which makes it hard to accept help, even from my husband at times.
It took this experience to teach me something I wish I had learned a long time ago: it’s okay to accept help.
There is no fault or shame in it. If you are in that newborn haze, let the meal trains roll. Let your mom come do laundry for you or take your older kids for the day. When your mental health is struggling, accept help from a professional, talk to a friend, or find another way to get help. When you need a break, take it. And if tragedy strikes, let people take care of you. Even if you really can do it all, it doesn’t mean you should or that you should have to.
