Motherhood Is Hard Because... and Other Things I’ve Learned
Exploring Matrescence, Physical, Psychological, Emotional, and Social Changes and Challenges of Motherhood: A Research and Personal Perspective.
This post was inspired as part of
Friday’s Office Party, where expressed an interest in why parenting young children is hard for mothers, and why it is hard for a mum to feel herself again. is a yoga teacher and a mom. She writes a beautiful Substack publication called . Make sure you visit her Substack where she shares her wisdom about the yoga tradition, but also motherhood and parenting.The other day we were driving back from the family zoo trip. We were all exhausted, especially my toddler, who was screaming “Mummy!” from the back seat. His older brother felt tired too, but also excited about the zoo adventure we had just had, yet overshadowed by his sibling's cries. In that moment, I knew the toddler just wanted a cuddle, which he had missed due to napping in his pram earlier. However, I was also aware that if we had pulled over, then he would not have allowed me to put him back into the car (we had been there many, many times). Yet, we had another 15 minutes before we reached home and distraction and snacks failed to calm the storm brewing in the car. Now, when I think about that situation, still hearing some ringing in my ears, I am thinking, what exactly made it hard? Was it the depletion of my own resources, the overwhelming paralysis of hearing my child's screams, or the guilt of not meeting both children's needs simultaneously?
From a perspective five years ago, before motherhood, such a scenario would have felt entirely different. What changed within me that this seemingly small moment now felt like a constant state of fight-flight-freeze, draining me of all emotional resources by the time we reached home?
The ugly, the ugliest and the vulnerable beauty
The first time I came across a comparison of motherhood to the cycle a caterpillar goes through to become a butterfly was in the book “Positive Birth Book” by Milli Hill. Initially, the idea of giving birth to my first child and the process of a tiny bug consuming copious amounts of food, enveloping itself in a cocoon, and emerging as a butterfly didn’t resonate deeply with me. However, as time passed and I embarked on the journey of motherhood again with my second child, I began to appreciate the analogy in a profound way. Intrigued, I delved into research to understand more about what happens inside the cocoon. That led me to write the other article about maternal metamorphosis.
What I discovered was truly remarkable, yet rarely discussed in mainstream conversations about the life cycle of a butterfly. This lack of conversation mirrors the limited dialogue surrounding the changes that occur within us during pregnancy and the postpartum period. These changes extend far beyond mere physical transformations; they shape our psychology, emotions, and identity. Despite the profound impact of matrescence (the transition into motherhood), research on this topic is still emerging. However, early findings indicate that matrescence parallels adolescence in its magnitude of change, signifying a period of profound transformation comparable to dissolving caterpillar cells inside the cocoon. Yet, despite becoming something entirely new, mothers retain fragments of their former selves, navigating the complexities of identity, self-discovery, and nurturing their offspring.
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Physcial changes in matrescence
“Just as the hormonal and psychological changes of adolescence prepare a person for successful adulthood, matrescence is a time when the brain and body prepare for the transition to motherhood. These two life stages are characterized by shifting social roles, with adulthood marking the social transition from dependence to independence, and motherhood marking the transition to now supporting one’s own dependents.
In addition to hormonal and social similarities, changes to the maternal brain across pregnancy are morphologically similar to those occurring in adolescence, with one study showing comparable changes in gyrification, sulcal depth, and sulcal length across adolescence and matrescence”. (Orchard et al. 2023)
Transitioning into motherhood brings not only permanent changes in our bodies but also in our brains. Contrary to the fantasy of hormones settling post-birth, these changes are lifelong (see the picture below). As cited above, alterations beginning in early pregnancy are enduring. Just as we cannot halt the transition into adulthood, we cannot reverse matrescence. There's no deadline where these changes solidify; it's a lifelong process akin to the growth stages of infancy, puberty, and adulthood. Like any growth period, it can feel overwhelming and unsettling.
Image from Orchard et al. (2023).
Psychological and emotional factors
Motherhood is a time of ‘many pleasures and joys… it is also a painful time of surrendering to a new way of life, of being stripped of the familiar’. (Thomas 2001)
Entering motherhood means stepping into a whole new psychological realm. It's like embarking on a journey from the familiar shores of independence to the uncharted waters of nurturing little ones. As Thomas (2001) beautifully puts it, it's a shift from being just oneself to becoming a two-in-one entity, where your child's needs intertwine with your own identity in ways you never imagined. This transition brings forth a whirlwind of emotions and reactions, many of which aren't readily accepted or understood by society's glossy portrayal of motherhood.
Moreover, the journey into motherhood is not for the faint of heart. It's marked by relentless stress and the relentless grind of sleep deprivation, both of which can profoundly impact a mother's psychological well-being. Sleepless nights and round-the-clock caregiving contribute to the depletion of maternal resources, leaving mothers vulnerable to feelings of exhaustion, overwhelm, self-doubt, and the familiar feeling of "never doing quite enough." Yet, as mothers adapt and grow more resilient over time, they find themselves continually challenged by the evolving needs of their children.
From the helpless vulnerability of a newborn to the spirited defiance of a toddler, the incessant chatter of a preschooler to the turbulent emotions of an adolescent, each stage of childhood presents its own set of challenges and joys. It's a balancing act between nurturing and disciplining, comforting and guiding. Motherhood is a journey without end, a constant process of adaptation, evolution, and assimilation of the new into the familiar. Those who have more than one child understand intimately how the strategies and knowledge gained with one child may not necessarily translate seamlessly to the next. Parenting becomes an ongoing experiment in trial and error, with each day bringing new complexities and surprises, that understandably, can feel out of control.
Lastly, what also makes mothering difficult from a psychological sphere is the widely acknowledged phenomena of maternal ambivalence. On the one hand, mothers cannot resist kissing and cuddling their babies and children, finding them amusing and endearing; on the other, at the same time, they experience an opposite pull towards seeking their identity outside of being “a mother”, wanting to have more physical and emotional space from their child(ren). This is a completely normal process; however, with the internalised form the young age belief that we have to be ‘Supermum, Superwife, Supereverything’ (Choi et al., 2015), that gap creates space for guilt, shame, isolation, overwhelm, anxiety, low mood, and other mental health problems and distress that are, unfortunately common in motherhood – according to data, approximately 68% women struggle (Royal College of Psychiatrists, 2016).
The social factors
Parenting, especially motherhood, is very lonely in the XXI century. There are chronic breakdowns and lack of finances and support from the local communities and services, as well as many families becoming estranged from each other, enhancing isolation and the burden that lies on a single person. Moreover, society holds a strong story and fantasy about the nature of motherhood as being “natural”, hence mothers “just knowing” what they are supposed to be doing; also caring for the children with constant love in the heart and a smile on the face is seen as part of the societal role as a mother. Both girls and boys are growing up saturating the idea of Choi’s (et al., 2015) ‘Supermum, Superwife, Supereverything’. That notion silences mothers to share their feelings and realities that are completely different from the painted social ideas, as they worry about being judged as “bad”, “unfit to be a mother”, “not good enough”, or even sometimes can bring some fears of the baby being taken away from them. To be able to overcome these, a mother needs to feel safe and supported in her environment; therefore, finding your village is important.
wrote about her own experience of creating a village for herself, due to a lack of support in her community.Lastly, naturally, motherhood brings our own reflection about the way we were parented and how our own mothers experienced matrescence. That can sometimes open “skeletons in the closet”, which with already depleted resources and sleep deprivation, may add to the spiral of distress and overwhelm. And again, with the right support, facing some past difficulties that entering motherhood brings can lead to reflection and action of creating your own unique parenting blueprint, which either will be rejecting, replicating, or mix & matching their own parental style.
Hard, but not bad
Matrescence is a hard, slow, life-long process. It is difficult, but it is not bad. Ongoing research shows that the transition into motherhood enriches mothers for life. A recent study suggests that in comparison to childless women, mothers show superior executive functions and attention three years following birth (Miller et al., 2020). Another study found that being a mother and the challenges one experiences in early years of parenting are related to improved cognition in middle (Henderson et al., 2003; Read et al.; Harville et al. 2020) and late life (Ning et al. 2020). It is theorised that as women provide more caregiving activities, these increase their cognitive reserves, defined as the brain’s resilience to damage, illness, or cognitive decline. Furthermore, other studies (de Lange et al. 2019, 2020) suggest a “neuroprotective effect of motherhood” based on the findings that mothers with more children have a “younger-looking” brain structure, especially in the striatal (reward processing and reinforcement learning) and limbic regions (emotional processing, memory formation). Orchard et al. (2023), who integrated findings from both human and animal maternal brain literature, suggested that motherhood is “a neurocognitive developmental stage in humans”.
Materscene is a hard, complex, and demanding process, and for that to become easier, we need to openly talk about the real realities of motherhood, building on individual strengths of mothers, and making sure they can lean on the support of their communities, partners, and fellow mothers. The importance of having a tribe to lean on, access to mental health resources, and prioritizing self-care cannot be overstated. We have to acknowledge that motherhood is a process when we are both powerful and vulnerable, and that requires the formation of a culture of empathy, understanding, and support for mothers everywhere so we can come out of it on the other side.
Writing this article quite naturally made me ponder and reflect about my own struggles with matrescence. And there are many – lack of immediate family helping out with bringing up children; parenting two children with different neurotypes and requiring different parenting styles; a sense of loneliness while meeting up with people and feeling that I cannot possibly be honest about the way I sometimes feel; still going through the sleepless nights and breastfeeding a toddler; boredom; feeling constantly guilty, especially when I am choosing myself over them; identity crisis and still finding out who I am now; feeling I became invisible to others (
wrote about it here); not recognizing myself in the mirror – this cannot be my body?!; the relentlessness of the process and calling work days “a break”; feeling that my body does not belong to me, and my personal space is constantly invaded; and at the same time loving them so much that I constantly worry that something bad will happen to them; my heart melting when I kneel in the hallway while they run towards me after nursery; the overwhelming awareness that everything in their childhood has an end – the last dummy use, the last breastfeed, the last silenced communication before the use of words, the last time when they want to sleep with me cuddled one on each side of the bed, the last silly chase on all fours around the house, the ultimate love in their eyes where you see you are the centre of their world, like the sun is for the Earth.Vulnerable and Powerful.
Love and Anger.
Past and Future.
Matrescence.
If you enjoyed this article I recommend other, apart from the ones attached in the article, Substacker writing about the motherhood:
- Her article Why do we treat mothers like they are stupid? discusses some contradicting expectations that sociatety has towards mothers and how a skill of being a mother, is undervalued. The challanges of beign a mother today – it is a really great interview with New York Times journalist, Jessica Grose about the motherhood in America.Great and parent-friendly mindfulness and self-compassion exercises can be access by visiting the
publication. Highly recommend! who writes about unfirtered realities of motherhood.References:
Choi, P., Henshaw, C., Baker, S., & Tree, J. (2005). Supermum, superwife, supereverything: Performing femininity in the transition to motherhood. Journal of Reproductive and Infant Psychology, 23(2), 167–180.
de Lange, A.-M.G., et al. (2019). Population-based neuroimaging reveals traces of childbirth in the maternal brain. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 116, 22341–22346.
de Lange, A.-M.G., et al. (2020). The maternal brain: region-specific patterns of brain aging are traceable decades after childbirth. Human Brain Mapping, 41, 4718–4729.
Harville, E.W., et al. (2020). Reproductive history and cognitive aging: the Bogalusa Heart Study. American Journal of Geriatric Psychiatry, 28, 217–225.
Henderson, V., et al. (2003). Estrogen exposures and memory at midlife: a population-based study of women. Neurology, 60, 1369–1371.
Miller, V., et al. (2020). Assessment of attention in biological mothers using the attention network test-revised. Current Psychology, 41, 3418–3427.
Ning, K., et al. (2020). Parity is associated with cognitive function and brain age in both females and males. Scientific Reports, 10, 6100.
Orchard, E.R., Rutherford, H.J.V., Holmes, A.J., & Jamadar, S.D. (2023). Matrescence: lifetime impact of motherhood on cognition and the brain. Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 27(3), 302-316.
Read, S.L., & Grundy, E.M. (2017). Fertility history and cognition in later life. Journals of Gerontology Series B: Psychological Sciences and Social Sciences, 72, 1021–1031.
Royal College of Psychiatrists. (2016). Parental mental illness: The impact on children and adolescents. Information for parents, carers and anyone who works with young people. Retrieved from rcpsych.ac.uk/healthadvice/parentsandyouthinfo/parentscarers/parentalmentalillness.aspx
Thomas, T. (2001). Becoming a mother: matrescence as spiritual formation. Religious Education, 96(4), 374–384.
Oh my goodness, this is an incredibly piece of writing, that has opened up so much in my mind that I need to sit with about my relationship with my now deceased mother, and my own relationship with motherhood, which has added layers of complexity to those already mentioned here. Your point about motherhood changing our brain permanently struck a cord for reasons I need to process before I share. Thank you so much for this. I have so much to say in response to this I feel I might need to write a post of my own, but first, time tk reflect, and deep deep gratitude
"...or the guilt of not meeting both children's needs simultaneously?"
My mother had me and my first brother when she was 22 (me) and 24 (him). For 10 years it was just her, Dad and us. She worked full time, and was a wonderful, energetic, present mum who took us on lots of adventures, and spent lots of time giving us a wonderful childhood.
When I was 12, she had brother #2, and then almost 2 years later, along came brother #3.
Now, in her late 30s, with a teenager, an almost teenager, and 2 under 3 year olds, it was different. She couldn't cope with the pressures any longer. The older brother and I weren't much help... I was happy to help with the babies but was worse than unhelpful with all things domestic, and she buckled under the strain, and was forced to leave her job. Looking back, I wish I'd been able to understand and be more of a help to her, but I was too young and couldn't possibly get it.