Mélanie, Montréal QC (1/4)
"To me, the postpartum period was a time where I reclaimed the relationship I had with my mother. As a teenager, I was temperamental and very different than my mom. I couldn’t wait to leave my parents' house and as soon as I finished school, I moved out quickly. I thought she was overprotective and I hated that. When I got pregnant, she gave me blue pajamas and a little cap that had belonged to me. The day I gave birth to my son, who looked just like me as a baby, I dressed him up in the clothes. When my mom came to visit, she looked at him, asked if she could hold him, and for the longest time, did not say a word. She held him in silence for twenty minutes. In a way, through my childbirth, she relived her own. It was a beautiful moment. When I got back home and needed help she was always – always – present. I will never forget the first day she came to help. I live an hour away from my parents’ house, but they arrived at 8am sharp. I opened the door, tousled hair, and sleep-deprived. But there they were, her hands overflowing with bags and a cooler full of homemade meals. She was usually tiptoeing when she came to my house, but not this time. She settled in right away and it was the first time ever she’d made my home hers. It felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted from my shoulders: I wouldn’t be alone to take care of my son. If I survived and made it through those first few weeks, it’s because of her."