It's easy to look at motherhood and the ways it robs us of our freedoms. The freedom to take a poo in privacy, to eat a 5-lb Chipotle burrito and nap ourselves back to flat tummies, the freedom to have sex on the couch at 8 pm, or spontaneously go anywhere or do anything without 4 hours of intensive planning and exhorbitant childcare costs. But you know what? Motherhood has actually delivered us freedoms we never dreamed possible.
And rest, assured, these freedoms also came with battle scars. You know, like actual scars. On our vaginas. And anuses. And flimsy psyches.