You’d think being 18m postpartum the third time around would come with more gentleness and understanding. But as I sit here and I am at a loss.

The last few months have been savage. As if I am a drum with a constant echo, I am exhausted – bone tired; floating through the days trying to find any source of joy I can to keep me going.

For the first time in almost a week I took a shower tonight. I’ve been cleaning up after vomit, feces and regular day to day messes created by a household of young children. And as I showered my 3 year old wailed outside the door for the entire duration.

When I say I’ve come to a point where I feel like I’m floating through the days I mean it. I will myself to think of the memories that bring me joy and remind myself constantly that this is just a phase. Constantly trying drag my soul to get through whatever period of motherhood I’m in.

Through all this I’ve truly discovered that what I share with you in all this is not just a process of motherhood but more of being a woman.

This woman, myself, chose to have children and so am dissecting my cultural upbringing, social influences and modern environment in which I’m challenged with daily.

And as I write this to try to understand better, for myself, I’m even more confused of what the point of it all is.