Dear husband, I need more help

By CELESTE ERLACH, And what a mom
Apr 5, 2018, 3:59 AM

Celeste Elrachs plea for help from her husband with her two sons has gone viral.

Dear Husband,

I. Need. More. Help.

Last night was hard for you. I asked you to watch the baby so I could go to bed early. The baby was crying. Wailing, really. I could hear him from upstairs and my stomach knotted from the sound, wondering if I should come down there and relieve you or just shut the door so I could get some desperately needed sleep. I chose the latter.

You came into the room 20 minutes later, with the baby still frantically crying. You placed the baby in the bassinet and gently pushed the bassinet just a few inches closer to my side of the bed, a clear gesture that you were done watching him.

I wanted to scream at you. I wanted to launch an epic fight that very moment. I had been watching the baby and the toddler all damn day. I was going to be waking up with the baby to feed him all damn night. The least you could do is hold him for a couple of hours in the evening to I can attempt to sleep.

Just a few hours of precious sleep. Is that too much to ask?

I know we both watched our parents fulfill the typical mother-father roles growing up. Both our mothers were the primary caretakers and our fathers were relatively hands off. They were excellent dads, but they weren't expected to spend a significant amount of time changing diapers, feeding, caring, and tending to the kids. Our mothers were the superwomen who maintained the family dynamics. Cooking, cleaning, and raising the children. Any help from dad was welcome, but unexpected.

I see us falling into these family dynamics more and more each day. My responsibility to feed the family, keep the house clean, and take care of the kids is assumed, even as I return to work. I blame myself for most of it too. I have set the precedent that I can do it. And in truth I want to. No offense, but I'm not sure I want to know what a week's worth of dinner would look like with you in charge.

I also see my friends and other moms doing it all, and doing it well. I know you see it, too. If they can manage it, and if our mothers did it so well for us, why can't I?

I don't know.

Maybe our friends are playing the part in public and secretly struggling. Maybe our moms suffered in silence for years and now, thirty years later, they simply don't remember how hard it really was. Or maybe, and this is something I berate myself over every single day, I'm just not as qualified for the job as everyone else. And as much as I cringe just thinking it, I'm going to say it: I need more help.

Part of me feels like a failure for even asking. I mean, you do help. You are an amazing father, and you do a great job with the kids. And besides, this should come easy to me, right? Motherly instincts, no?

But I'm human, and I'm running on five hours of sleep and tired as hell. I need you.

In the morning, I need you to get our toddler ready so I can care for the baby and make everyone's lunches and drink a cup of coffee. And no, getting the toddler ready does not mean plopping him in front of the TV. It means making sure he went potty, giving him some breakfast, seeing if he wants water, and packing his bag for school.

At night, I need an hour to decompress in bed knowing our toddler is asleep in his room and the baby is in your care. I know it's hard to listen to the baby cry. Believe me, I know. But if I can watch and pacify the baby for the majority of the day, you can do it for an hour or two at night. Please. I need you.

On weekends, I need more breaks. Times where I can get out of the house by myself and feel like an individual. Even if it's just a walk around the block or a trip to the grocery store. And some days when I've scheduled swim class and play dates, and it seems like I've got it all under control, I need you to offer to lend me a hand. Or suggest I go lay down during the kids' naptime. Or start putting away the dishes without me suggesting it. I need you.

Lastly, I need to hear you're grateful for all I do. I want to know that you notice the laundry is done and a nice dinner has been prepared. I want to know you appreciate that I breastfeed at all hours and pump when I'm at work when it would be easier for me to formula feed. I hope you notice that I never ask you to stay home from your networking events and sport activities. As the mom, it's assumed I'll be home all the time and always available to care for the kids while you're out and I feed that assumption by, well, being home all the time.

I know it's not how our parents did it, and I hate even asking. I wish I could do it all and make it look effortless. And I wish I didn't need kudos for doing things most people expect from a mom. But I'm waving a white flag and admitting I'm only human. I'm telling you how much I need you, and if I keep going at the pace I've been on, I will break. And that would hurt you, the kids, and our family.

Because, let's face it: you need me, too.

Celeste Erlach is a writer and marketing professional in Reno, Nevada. Married and with two kids ages 4 and 2, she writes about all things parenting on her website andwhatamom.com. She is also the founder of The Ultimate Mom Challenge, a one year mission to become the "ultimate" mom, through monthly challenges, goals and book readings. Stay in touch on her upcoming book here.

EDIT: I checked out her website and found out she wasn't the bitch I thought she was. Although I still think this will encourage publicly shaming people on social media not knowing the whole story, thanks media for that!

What everyone is asking about my “Dear Husband” letter

I want to give YOU, my old, new and dear friends, the inside scoop on how my Dear Husband post came about. You will not find this story anywhere else, so enjoy!! (Read the letter here)

I wrote my Dear Husband post a while ago. If you follow me closely, you know my kids (two boys) are four and almost two now. My post talks about my baby in his bassinet so you can do the math. It was some time ago.

I penned this post sort of like a journal entry. I had no intention of sharing it. And I had no plan to print it out and leave it for my husband either (contrary to what many assumed!) As a writer, it’s easier for me to write my feelings on paper before communicating directly, and this was exactly what I did.

I wrote this journal entry and put it away. Then, I talked to my husband. Face to face. We had a long talk, and several talks that naturally followed. We talked about EVERYTHING! Our new lives as parents, our expectations, our deepest fears, and our struggles. I told my husband I NEEDED MORE HELP! My husband told me he needed more communication, more trust, and more bonding time with the new baby. And more alone time with me. Yes!

This I'm actually happy to read, this is how it should be. WTF wasn't this included in the viral shares?! This is taking responsibility on both their parts!

Can you believe it? We were new parents so focused on just getting through the day that we had no idea what the other was thinking… What our partner needed… It was eye-opening. Enlightening. It was a beautiful moment of marital connection that feels so rare in the early weeks and months after a baby is born.

We decided to make some big changes. My husband took over several nighttime feedings with milk I was pumping during the day. We moved some money around and budgeted for a housekeeper. We scheduled our first date night in months.

These changes seem simple enough, but they were earth shattering for us. I was able to get more sleep. My husband got more bonding time with the baby. And we got to reconnect with each other, something we took for granted before kids came along.

I decided to publish this letter after we had settled into our new routine. I believed it would help other women speak their truths. I hoped it would serve as a catalyst for change for women who are struggling; breaking like I was.

It’s working.

Women around the world have reached out to me. They are starting the conversation. They are speaking up.

If you are breaking. If you are on the edge… Speak up. Work to make changes. You are not alone in this. We are here for you. I am here for you.

Please continue to follow me on this journey. I have some amazing plans in store this year, and I want you to be the first to know. I love you and I’m sending you all a big virtual hug.