Mothers are inundated with messages from every conceivable source that exhaustion goes hand-in-hand with motherhood. We are told that this is what we signed up for. That it is normal to feel burnt out and fatigued when you have children. Even after the nighttime wake-ups end, we are told that being tired is simply to be expected.
This normalization of exhaustion in motherhood stole years from my life. Told that my extreme fatigue was just the reality of motherhood, I spent six years without realizing that I was suffering from a chronic illness—one that enormously impacted my health and quality of life. It robbed me of precious moments with my children. Time which I will never get back.
I know now that I was experiencing serious chronic anemia due to excessive ongoing blood loss from menorrhagia and adenomyosis (cousin to the more well-known endometriosis). In short, I was losing more blood, more rapidly, than my body could ever replenish. The effects built up over the years until they were debilitating.
In my view, four distinct failures led to my condition being missed. First, a lack of follow-up care for women who have experienced complications during labor. Second, the dearth of research into women’s health. Third, society’s usual failure to take menstrual conditions seriously. Finally—and perhaps most important of all—the aforementioned normalization of maternal exhaustion.
During the birth of my first child, I had a long, traumatic labor, which culminated when my body failed to deliver the placenta. When this happens, the obstetrician may “manually” remove the placenta, an intervention wherein the placenta is torn from inside the woman’s body by hand. This is as bad, or perhaps worse, than it sounds. While I am extremely grateful for modern medicine and that both myself and my child survived (as retained placenta is a leading cause of hemorrhaging and maternal death), I find the lack of follow-up care and debriefing to be appalling. Equally concerning, research into medium and long term complications arising from childbirth has been neglected. In my case, I was not told there might be any long-term complications stemming from what happened, nor was I checked on after the customary six weeks.
Although my adenomyosis cannot be irrefutably linked to this moment, as research into menstrual conditions also continues to be insufficient, I do know two things: 1) My period was normal before this, and 2) among the potential causes of adenomyosis are uterine inflammation after childbirth and uterine surgery. I am not a medical professional, but it seems to me that ripping out my placenta by hand could conceivably have disrupted my uterine wall and led to my condition.
In my efforts to have a second child, I went on to have two miscarriages and a high-risk pregnancy with placenta previa—both are associated with adenomyosis. However, at the time I did not know I had the condition. None of the medical professionals I encountered made the link either.
After my second child, the chronic anemia grew to untenable levels all while I was being told “enjoy every moment” and “all mothers are tired.” I spent three years getting through each day by force of will, hoping that if I tried hard enough, I would defeat the exhaustion. I took naps, learned to meditate, ate healthy, went to therapy and exercised. My wonderful husband often took the kids out so I could rest.
In the end, these things were never going to pull me out of the pit. My body was crying out for rest. I could feel it deep in my bones (or perhaps, my veins), but I didn’t know I was fighting an unwinnable battle. I could not “self-care” my way out of my fatigue. My children got used to hearing “No, you can’t see Mommy. Mommy is resting right now.” Daily tasks felt insurmountable. I dreaded waking up because it meant I would have to drag myself through another day—again, and again. It was a dark time. But it never occurred to anyone that this was an extreme, unhealthy level of fatigue; that this was not, in fact, “normal”; that something was seriously wrong.
I am now on the other side of a hysterectomy, a welcome excision of the organ through which my lifeforce had been bleeding out for years. And, exactly six weeks after my surgery, I started to feel like a human again. Tellingly, four to six weeks is how long the body takes to replenish red blood cells. When I immediately bounced to life after my hysterectomy, after six long years of being told that I was just exhausted because of motherhood, it became obvious to me that motherhood had not been the culprit after all. I did not realize just how sick I had been until I became healthy.
Getting my life back makes me feel incredible gratitude. But there are darker emotions too. Dread at what my life would have been if I hadn’t demanded the hysterectomy. Grief for the lost years. Anger for how society acts towards mothers.
What does it say about how we treat mothers that when I described my utterly incapacitating fatigue to people, the reaction was always, “oh yeah, that’s motherhood.” Just a little Mommy Burnout, that’s all.
Motherhood is exhausting, it’s true. But now when I get tired, I can tell you that it feels different. It is not equivalent to the bottomless, hopeless exhaustion of a body that never has enough blood.
I hope if nothing else, my story is a wake-up call. How many mothers, like me, have an underlying health issue that is being ignored and dismissed?
Exhaustion for mothers may be common, but it is not “normal.” And it is certainly not okay.
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