Why do I feel like no one sees how hard I’m trying to hold it together?

Natalie H., 35, Portland, USA. Mom to 7-month-old twin girls, Vivianne and Lisa.

Natalie’s been back at work part-time while juggling nighttime feeds, reflux, and pumping. Her partner travels a lot for work. Most days, she’s running on three hours of sleep, dry shampoo, and silent prayers.

Mama,

I see you. I really do.

You wake up already tired. One eye on the monitor. One hand on your phone, checking if you missed a work email or a text from someone you don’t have the energy to reply to.

You move through your day like a soldier — holding bottles in one arm, folding laundry with your elbow, pretending you're fine when you're barely staying afloat.

I remember walking through the house one morning, wearing mismatched socks and a hoodie that smelled like spit-up. My twins were both crying. I was leaking through my bra. I hadn’t eaten. And I thought — how am I even standing right now?

But I smiled when my partner walked in.
Said “I’m good” when my mom called.
Posted a cute photo when I wanted to scream.

And not once did someone say: “It must take so much strength just to get through the day.”

The truth is, postpartum mental load isn’t just about tasks. It’s about the invisible pressure. The quiet expectation to be okay. To be the glue, the calm, even when you're crumbling.

No one teaches you how lonely it feels to perform stability.
Or how heavy it is to be needed by everyone, and checked on by no one.

I didn't even realize how much I was holding in until I put on a Bloom & Heal bra one day and started crying. It wasn’t the bra. It was the moment. The softness. The fact that something — anything — felt like it was made for me.

That’s when I learned that postpartum self-care isn’t a luxury. It’s survival.

So if you’re wondering how to feel like yourself again after your twins,
start here: