My journey to motherhood was fairly simple—we decided we were ready, and I soon after got pregnant. We were absolutely over the moon and I felt absolutely ready to take on parenting. Giving birth was slightly more dramatic as my daughter was born via C-section after 27 hours of labouring. However, I recovered well and my daughter had no significant impacts from her arrival.

The first signs of mental health came in those first days—every day at 6 p.m., I would be riddled with anxiety beyond what I had ever experienced. Talking rapidly, tears pooling in my eyes, I would look at my daughter and feel nothing but panic. We chalked it up to being part of those early days of parenthood—overtired with hormones still raging and a mother who was already prone to anxiety. My husband and I agreed to keep an eye on it together, and as the weeks went on it got better each day. 

By the time my daughter was three months old, I was ready to begin some of the “fun parts” of maternity leave—going out for walks, stopping in at coffee shops, library visits and going to parent and tot classes at my gym. However, the world had different plans. A surge of COVID in 2021 had me feeling unsafe to take my baby out in the world, leaving me stuck at home. What felt like overnight, all of the fun had been taken away. I was worried about my daughter’s socialization—she began to scream in terror when I took her to the store for essentials, scared of the unfamiliar space we were in. Despite it being out of my control, I felt like I was letting her down while trying to also keep her safe.

I distinctly remember a walk around our neighborhood with my husband one evening. He was sweetly trying to check in on how I was doing, obviously noting my decline. I looked at him and said “I truly have nothing to look forward to.” In that moment, we both knew something needed to change.

I don’t remember how the idea came about, but I needed to find something to do in the house that was new and would keep me engaged with myself and others. I turned to an old hobby—baking. I began doing chocolate chip cookie recipe reviews from different cookbooks or celebrity chefs and reviewing them on my Instagram. This small bit of connection saw me through until my daughter and I could make our return to the public. Friends would interact with me online, provide new recipe suggestions and most of all, I got to consume lots of baking. It was a small act for myself, but it allowed me to be a better mother for my daughter. It was an act of filling my own cup so that hers could be overflowing. 

One thing I still hold dear in motherhood is the absolutely insanity that all mothers feel this way, for hundreds of years—the absolute earth-shattering love we feel for our children, the fears and anxieties about hitting milestones or their health, and the deep bond with a child. Every mother is walking around carrying these things every day, and it often leaves me flabbergasted that we all carry so much. In some of my darkest moments, it’s what has made me feel connected to others—the thought that many have and many will go through these same worries, and that I am not alone. 

I have chosen to donate fabric from one of my last-made quilts, which I made for my own mother. I am a good mother, because she was a good mother, as was her mother before her. We are all connected through this journey.

—M.S.