Cortney Hendrix

A friendly reminder that nobody has it as “together” as their feed makes it look. That’s literally not how life works.

Between the 10-second clips of clean kitchens, glowing skin, and curated moments, there are about 400 photos that look like this. Unhinged faces, cold coffee, chaos, and just trying to figure out of a dog or a human peed on my floor.

I’ve had my life broadcast publicly, and I can tell you firsthand: the highlight reel is never the full story. Motherhood is messy, marriage takes work, and most days are held together by dry shampoo and deep breaths.

Drop a 🙋‍♀️ in the comments if your camera roll looks way more like this than a curated aesthetic. Which slide is your current mood today?

I didn’t need someone to tell me “sleep when the baby sleeps”. I needed someone to see me.

When I became a first time m, I wanted to breastfeed. But my baby refused bottles and pacifiers and what started as my choice eventually felt like a sentence.

At 4.5 months , I left him for 6.5 hours to go to a concert. He didn’t eat. He waited until I came home and nursed.

And that was only one piece of what was happening.

At 5 weeks, he got sick, struggled to breathe and choked on music in the middle of the night. We had to call the ambulance.

At 10 weeks a truck ran a red light while we were driving home from Christmas. By the grace of God , we weren’t hit. All I could think was “of we had been hit, they wouldn’t have made it “.

Those experiences, combined with exclusive nursing, working from home, and never getting a real break, slowly became postpartum anxiety that I didn’t recognize.

I started talk therapy around 4 months, but by 8-9 months, I was completely depleted.

One day, I texted my friend “ wouldn’t it be nice to go to the hospital to get some sleep?”

I didn’t want to hurt myself I just desperately wanted someone else to be responsible for me for skittle while.

My friend didn’t brush it off. She encouraged me to call my doctor- and followed up to make sure I did.

They saw me that same day.

I’ll never forget that appointment

My doctor listened. He didn’t rush me or make me feel dramatic. He looked me in the eyes and saw the exhausted mother sitting in front of him who was scared and in a dark place.

He empathized with me. He validated my exhaustion. He validated what I was experiencing.

I sat there crying because I was embarrassed. I thought I should be able to handle it

Then he said:

“Sleep deprivation is a t0rtur3 tactic for a reason. It changes how we think and feel.”

That sentence changed how I saw myself.

I wasn’t weak. I wasn’t failing. I wasn’t a bad mom.

I was exhausted.

We made a plan for to get more rest and help.

That appointment didn’t magically fix everything but it was a turning point.

I’m forever grateful for the do for who saw me when I couldn’t see myself clearly- and the friend who saw me.