How do I ask for help without feeling like a terrible mom?

Question from Danielle T., 36, Winnipeg, Canada. Mom to 7-month-old baby boy, Tristan. 

Danielle is four months postpartum and holding on by a thread. She hasn’t slept more than three consecutive hours in weeks. She’s trying to breastfeed, keep up with laundry, and get dinner on the table — and still hears that nagging voice: “You should be able to do this.” Every time she thinks about asking her mom, partner, or a friend for help, the guilt crushes her. She’s scared that needing help means she’s failing.

Mama, 

I wish I could sit across from you right now, hot tea in hand, eyes full of knowing. Because what you’re asking? I’ve asked it too.

The day I realized I couldn’t keep doing it all was the same day I convinced myself I should. That I had no real reason to feel overwhelmed. That other moms had it worse. That asking for help would make me less — less capable, less grateful, less of a mother.

But I was wrong.

And let me tell you this now, as someone who has wrestled with postpartum guilt, twin baby chaos, and the crushing weight of “doing it all” — needing help doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.

When I had my twins, I thought I was prepared. I had read the books, bought the swaddles, set up the schedules. But none of that prepared me for the silent unraveling that happened inside me. For the way my nervous system stayed in a state of alert 24/7. For how heavy the mental load of motherhood would feel.

I remember one night, after 4 hours of broken sleep and 12 hours of solo parenting, my husband asked if I needed anything before bed. And I said, “No, I’m good.”

I wasn’t good. I was desperate.

But the words caught in my throat. Because postpartum moms aren't taught how to ask for help without guilt — we’re taught to smile, to cope, to be endlessly selfless. And that narrative is breaking us.

So here’s what I’ve learned, and what I want you to hold close, Danielle:

• You can be a good mom and still ask for help.
• You can love your baby and still need space.
• You can feel capable and still crave support.

Asking for help doesn't make you a burden. It makes you a mom who knows her limits. It makes you brave. And if someone makes you feel otherwise? That’s not your shame to carry — it’s their misunderstanding to unpack.

There is no trophy for burning out quietly. No award for drowning with a smile on your face. What there is, though, is healing in saying, “I can’t do this alone. And I don’t have to.”

Let people show up for you. Let them hold a bottle, rock a nap, fold a load of laundry. Let them witness your humanness — because the more we normalize moms needing help, the less isolated we’ll all feel.

You’re not failing. You’re just finally being honest. And that’s the beginning of everything soft and true.

Love from a mom getting used to asking for help herself,
Lina P.