Mummy guilt is something that I think most of us probably suffer from for one reason or another. I know I have, with both of my boys, throughout the last couple of years (and many more to come, I’m sure!).

One of the first times I suffered – badly – was with my breastfeeding guilt after I “failed” with J. This partly led to my suffering from postnatal depression. Breastfeeding guilt is a horrible thing to feel, as everywhere you look you are reminded of how you couldn’t/didn’t provide the best for your baby. I felt like I was being judged by everyone – the PND made this 100x worse.

Even if you make the correct decision, it still creeps in. With J I now know I didn’t make that best decision, which is why I was more determined this time. This time I have suffered, but not nearly as much as I did with J, because this time I know I tried the hardest that I could. This time I feel more envy than guilt, which I will write about later.

Giving birth to N and these few first months, I have felt so much love for him and just wanted to be with him all the time, and he still hasn’t had a night away from me like J did. I haven’t written this before, so I am opening up a little more now, but with J – due to the PND – I didn’t feel that, and now I feel so guilty for him because he missed out on so much of my love, affection & attention.

At every opportunity offered, I would just ‘palm’ him off on someone else. He didn’t deserve that. He was just an innocent child who just wanted, needed, to be unconditionally loved. Deep down, I did love him, but it just wasn’t there, on the surface. And now I’m feeling almighty guilt.

Now I obviously have to split my attention between the two, and it’s only just in the last year or so that J has gotten my attention all to himself, and for that I feel guilty as my full attention has disappeared for him again. N will know no different, as he will from the beginning of his life, have had to share it. Don’t get me wrong, I do have one-on-one time with J now, he needs it. He has always been a child that needs lots of attention, and I often wonder if that’s because I didn’t give it to him for his first few months.

But they will never know my guilt unless they choose to read my blog one day. The joy of innocence. I hope they both grow up knowing I have always loved them, and always will. That it’s those evil hormones of depression that have made me feel this way, and not them.

They are both innocent.

I am guilty.

Where in your motherhood journey have you experienced Mummy guilt?