This article is part of Mochi’s fall 2024 issue on Resilience, redefined as “finding agency in adversity and fighting for radical change.” We highlight the strength of individuals and communities and their courage in dismantling systems of injustice. Our hope is that you will feel the strength pulsing through these stories and that you also are inspired to pair resilience with actions that lead to real, necessary, and revolutionary change.
I never thought that a trip to Target would defeat me. A few weeks after becoming a mother, the simplest tasks felt so daunting that I didn’t have the capacity to even attempt them. Getting ready to take my newborn to the store entailed making sure he was fed — first, by trying to get him to latch and nurse “naturally” (10 minutes) because I was told to still keep trying in the hopes he’d eventually get the hang of it, then feeding him previously pumped milk via the bottle since he never did learn to latch (20 minutes), then pumping milk for his next meal (another 20 minutes), washing all the pump parts and the bottle (5 minutes), changing his diaper (5 minutes), going down four flights of stairs with him in his infant car seat, and making it through a 10-minute car ride with him screaming bloody murder in the backseat, each cry grating on my frayed nerves (he hated being strapped in his car seat). By the time we got to the store, I was counting down the time until I would need to feed him again: soon. Also, so many things could (and did) go wrong: He could throw up or have a blowout, his nap schedule could get messed up, I might forget my wallet. It never seemed worth it to even attempt to leave the house, but the daily drudgery also felt like an unending series of overcast weeks.
We were among the fortunate: Neither my son nor I had health problems, we had a place to live and food to eat, and I had a supportive spouse who was a great parent. So why did I feel completely unhinged all the time, my neurons…
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