Mother’s Day When Motherhood Is Hard
I know some of you are dreading Sunday. I know because I’ve been there too.
This is the post for the women who do not feel like the brunch picture. The ones who are in the thick of a postpartum mood disorder, or grieving a loss, or in the middle of fertility treatments that have not worked yet. The ones who have lost their mother, or are estranged from the mother who was supposed to teach them how to do this.
You are not the only one. The day, as it gets sold to us, was never going to fit everyone. And it certainly was not built to hold the full range of what mothering actually is, both for the mother and the child.
And when I talk about mothers and motherhood in this post, I mean all of it. The women raising babies they carried, the women raising babies they did not, and the women still trying to become mothers. If you are doing the work of mothering in any form, this is for you.
If you are often left feeling alone in your experience on Mother’s Day, this post is for you. I hope it helps you give yourself permission to feel whatever comes up for you on Sunday, and ask for whatever you need to make it through the day.
Key Takeaways
Mother’s Day is one of the hardest holidays of the year for many of the women we work with, including new mothers in the thick of a PMAD, mothers after loss, women in fertility treatment, and women with complicated mothers of their own.
You are allowed to feel more than one thing about Sunday. You can love your kids and dread the day. You can be a mother and grieve a mother. You can be doing the work and not want a brunch.
“Should” is not your friend on Mother’s Day. The amount of energy you spend trying to feel the “right” thing is energy that could go toward feeling whatever you actually feel.
You can opt out of pieces of the day, and you’re allowed to ask for what you need, whether that’s space, community, quiet, support, or yes, even brunch.
If this day is bringing up something heavier than you can carry alone, please reach out. We are here.
Who This Day Is Hard For
Mother’s Day, as a holiday, was not designed with most of the women in our therapy practice in mind. It was designed for a specific kind of mother, in a specific kind of family, having a specific kind of feeling about her children and her own mother. If you are not having that feeling, the day can land like a small annual wound.
We see this in our office every spring. The women who dread Sunday include, but are not limited to:
Mothers who are in the thick of postpartum depression, anxiety, or another PMAD, and cannot access the joy the day insists they should be feeling
Mothers after pregnancy loss, infant loss, or stillbirth, who are mothers without a baby in their arms
Women in fertility treatment, who are doing the most physically and emotionally demanding work of becoming a mother and being asked to celebrate other people’s motherhood
Women whose own mothers have died
Women whose own mothers were unsafe, whose own mothers are still alive but the relationship is fractured or estranged
Women raising kids whose biological mother is not the only mother in the picture, or who do not fit the brunch-card definition of family
Mothers in survival mode, full stop, who are too tired to be celebrated and too tired to celebrate themselves
If you are on this list, I want you to know we see you. Not in a performance way. In a we-have-this-conversation-every-week way. In a we’ve-been-there-ourselves way. You are not alone in the dread, even if it feels like it on Instagram.
What Permission Looks Like
Permission does not mean you have to skip the day. It means you do not have to perform a feeling you do not have. Here is what we tell our clients in the lead-up to Sunday.
You are allowed to feel more than one thing. Love and grief in the same hour. Gratitude and resentment in the same breath. Tenderness toward your kids and a quiet wish for ten minutes alone. Both/and is the truer version of motherhood.
You are allowed to opt out of the parts that hurt. The brunch. The card aisle. The Instagram scroll. The phone call to the mother who was not safe. The smile in the photo. You can choose, on this one day, not to do the things that take more from you than they give.
You are allowed to ask for what you actually need. Not what the holiday says you should want. What you actually want. Maybe that is a long walk by yourself. Maybe that is your partner taking the baby for four straight hours so you can sleep. Maybe that is takeout in your bathrobe and nothing else. Tell the people who love you what you need. They almost always want to give it to you. They just need to be told.
You are allowed to honor the loss. If you are grieving a baby, a pregnancy, a mother, or a version of motherhood you thought you would have by now, you can build a small ritual into your day to make space for that. Light a candle. Visit a place that holds meaning. Write something you do not need to show anyone.
You are allowed to skip the whole thing. You can wake up Sunday morning and decide it is just Sunday. The earth does not stop spinning. Your kids will not remember whether you observed it. Your worth as a mother is not measured by your participation in a holiday.
A Word for the Mothers in the Thick of It
If you are a new mother right now and the dread you feel about Sunday is mixed in with a deeper, harder thing, please read this carefully.
Sometimes Mother’s Day is the day a feeling gets too loud to ignore. The day you finally cannot pretend you are okay. The day someone says something kind and you start crying and you cannot stop and you don’t know why.
If that happens, please do not just push through it. That is information from your nervous system that something needs care. Reach out to your partner. Reach out to a friend who can hold it. Reach out to a therapist like us. Each one of these supports can help you compassionately work through next steps.
The other thing we want to say. If you are noticing that you have been telling yourself “I will deal with this after the holiday, after the baby is sleeping, after I get back to work, after, after, after,” please notice that pattern and let this be the moment you stop kicking the can down the road. The “afters” are not coming on their own. For so many reasons, they have to be made.
What You Can Say to the People in Your Life
If telling people what you need feels like an impossibly heavy lift, here is some language you can borrow.
To your partner: “I’m having a hard time with Mother’s Day this year. I don’t need you to fix it. I just need you to know, and I need [specific thing] from you on Sunday.”
To a friend: “Mother’s Day is going to be hard for me this year. Can I text you on Sunday if I’m having a rough moment?”
To family who wants to do a big thing: “Thank you for wanting to celebrate me. The most loving thing you could do this year is keep it small/skip it/let me have a quiet day.”
To yourself, in your own head, in the middle of a hard moment on Sunday: “More than one thing is true right now. I am allowed to feel all of it.”
Frequently Asked Questions
Q: How do I get through Mother’s Day after a pregnancy loss or infant loss?
A: There is no one right way. Some women find ritual grounding (a candle, a visit, a written letter to the baby). Others need to opt out of the day entirely. Both are valid. We strongly recommend connecting with a perinatal loss specialist if you have not already. Postpartum Support International maintains a directory of providers with this specialty.
Q: I have a complicated relationship with my own mother and Mother’s Day is hard. Is this normal?
A: Yes. Many of the women in our practice find Mother’s Day painful in part because of their own mothers, not just their experiences as mothers. Becoming a mother often surfaces grief, anger, or longing related to your own attachment history. This is real and worth bringing into therapy.
Q: How do I help my partner on Mother’s Day if I know she is struggling?
A: Ask her, in the days before, what would actually feel good. Do not assume. Do not surprise. Take real things off her plate (the baby, the meals, the cleanup). Let her opt out of celebration if she wants to. Tell her you love her without making her perform a feeling.
Q: What if I am a mother who lost her own mother and is also a new mom? This is a lot.
A: It is a lot. It is painful. You are holding two enormous things at once. You are allowed to grieve your mother and love your baby, and wish your mother was here to witness you as a mother, to meet your baby and share her love. We work with many women in this exact place and we want to gently say: this is one of the seasons where having a therapist in your corner can change the texture of the year. You do not have to carry it by yourself.
Q: I just do not want to do the day at all. Is that allowed?
A: Yes. Skipping the day is allowed. Full stop.
You Are Already Doing Enough
Whatever Sunday looks like for you, please know this. You do not have to earn the title. You do not have to prove the feeling. You do not have to perform anything.
You are mothering in whatever way you can right now, in whatever season you are in, with whatever you have. That counts.
If this day is bringing something up that feels too big to carry alone, our team at Mother Nurture Therapy Group is here. We work with women across California through every part of the perinatal season. You can reach out for a free consultation any time, including this week.
We will be here on Monday too.
About the Author
Yael Sherne is a California licensed marriage and family therapist (LMFT 128601) and the founder of Mother Nurture Therapy Group. With nearly a decade of experience and specialized training in perinatal mental health, couples therapy, and trauma, she supports individuals and couples navigating fertility, pregnancy, postpartum, and parenting.
Disclaimer
The content on this blog is for informational and educational purposes only and is not intended as a substitute for professional mental health treatment. If you are experiencing a mental health crisis, please call 988 (Suicide & Crisis Lifeline) or go to your nearest emergency room. Mother Nurture Therapy Group provides therapy services in California. For personalized support, please contact us to schedule a consultation.