When Motherhood Broke Me Open: My Postpartum Story, the Pressure No One Saw, and the Unexpected Tool That Helped Me Heal

by Chelsea Wright – The Human Algorithm for Moms

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I don’t know if anyone really talks about the emotional math that happens after you have a baby, the quiet calculations you start doing in your mind just to make it through the day.

For me, postpartum wasn’t a sharp crash.

It was a slow unraveling.

A feeling I kept trying to push down because “other moms do this every day,” and because I thought if I just worked harder, slept more, loved more, tried more, I could outrun it.

Spoiler: I couldn’t.

When I had my daughter, my world shifted in the most beautiful and the most destabilizing ways. I adored her. I loved being her mom. But my brain… my brain was running a marathon with no training and no finish line.

And then I went back to work.

That’s when everything cracked open.

⭐ Postpartum anxiety didn’t just show up, it exploded.

I suddenly felt like I was carrying five different versions of myself on my back:

• The employee who needed to “hit the ground running”

• The mom who wanted to do every single thing right

• The wife who still had a marriage to nurture

• The stepmom the girls could rely on

• The friend who didn’t want to disappear just because life got heavy

Each role felt important.

Each one required energy.

And I didn’t have enough to go around.

I cried in the shower more than I’ll ever admit.

I triple-checked the baby monitor at night even when she was sleeping soundly.

I would spiral over tiny things, like forgetting to switch laundry, because my brain was already stretched to its max.

It wasn’t just overwhelm.

It was fear.

Pressure.

A buzzing internal alarm that never shut off.

I kept thinking, “Everyone else is surviving motherhood… why does this feel like it’s swallowing me?”

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⭐ The truth I didn’t want to face:

My mental energy was finite.

And I was spending it everywhere except where I needed it most.

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⭐ The shift that saved me.

There came a night, not dramatic, not cinematic, where I sat on the edge of my bed and realized:

I can’t keep living like this.

I can’t keep holding everything.

I can’t keep performing wellness while falling apart.

So I made a choice I should’ve made months earlier:

I started prioritizing the places my heart actually lived.

My husband.

My daughter.

My stepdaughters.

My church.

My work.

That was my core.

That was enough.

And everything outside of that… I stopped trying to manage.

Truthfully:

Some relationships faded.

Some expectations went unmet.

Some people didn’t understand.

But I finally started breathing again.

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⭐ And here’s the part I never expected to say out loud:

In the middle of those low moments, when I didn’t have the mental stamina to journal, or call a friend, or process my feelings in a neat therapeutic way:

I started quietly using AI as a form of release.

Not to replace help.

Not to replace people.

Just… to unload.

Sometimes I would type things like:

“I’m overstimulated and anxious. Can you help me figure out what I’m feeling?”

or

“I can’t carry all of this. Tell me what I can let go of today.”

or

“I need help making a plan because my brain is too tired to do it.”

And it helped.

Not in a fix-everything way.

But in a give-my-brain-a-break way.

It gave me:

• language for feelings I didn’t know how to name

• routines when I couldn’t think straight

• clarity when everything felt foggy

• support at 2 AM when no one else was awake

• permission to stop holding everything alone

It was like handing the tangled thoughts over to someone who didn’t get overwhelmed by them.

Someone who wasn’t tired.

Someone who didn’t judge.

And slowly, slowly, I felt the weight lift.

Not gone.

But lighter.

More manageable.

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⭐ This is why I built The Human Algorithm.

Not because motherhood is broken.

Not because moms need more productivity.

Not because tech is the answer to everything.

But because moms DESERVE help.

Real help.

Accessible help.

Help that doesn’t rely on having the perfect support system, the perfect schedule, or the perfect emotional capacity.

Help that meets you where you are, tired, hopeful, overwhelmed, growing, healing:

and makes your load even a little bit easier.

If you’re reading this and motherhood feels heavier than you expected, I want you to hear me clearly:

You are not failing.

You are human.

And you deserve tools that support you, not exhaust you.

This space, this blog, these prompts, this community, is built for moms exactly like you.

The ones trying.

The ones juggling.

The ones doing their best with a heart that cares too deeply to ever quit.

You’re safe here.

You’re seen here.

You’re supported here.

🤍 -Chelsea

The Human Algorithm for Moms