I am the oldest child in my family and I am an independent, do-it-myself kind of wife, mother, daughter and friend.

This fact has not served me that well in motherhood.

I have come to understand that there is a great amount of truth and value to the idea of it taking a village to raise a family, something that I didn’t necessarily believe in my early parenting years. I thought I could do it all. I thought I knew a lot more than I did.

When I was well into active labor with my second baby, I thought it would be helpful and efficient to drive myself to the hospital. This well-intentioned, but truly stupid choice, lead me into a birth scenario that was fast, painful and needlessly traumatic.

Noah and I quickly realized that we didn’t have a solid plan in place for what would happen when I went into labor, so he had to stay home to situate our firstborn. After checking myself in, the nurses left me alone for quite a while in the cold hospital room, and everything I had read and learned about labor through my prenatal yoga training and reading Ina May Gaskin flew out the window as my body went from zero to 60 in literally no time. As I crawled across the floor, mumbling prayers and crying to the angels, my mind truly left me and came back a zillion times and I forgot how to breathe. As I have since learned, being alone and being scared while about to give birth or any other life-changing situation, makes everything unnecessarily and exponentially more difficult.

When Noah finally arrived, I grabbed onto him right in the middle of a bone-crushing contraction and remember the pain melting into a whisper of the previous sensations. As long as I maintained a physical connection with Noah, my pain was dulled, my breathing deepened, and I was able to continue and give birth to Ben. I am not typically a clinger, I don’t lean on others when I am in pain; I tend to go inward. This birth experience, however, left me with no choice, and for that I am eternally grateful.

It was a life-changing lesson for me and I think about it almost every day.

Slowly, throughout my first year with two kids at home, I tried to let go a little bit in order to take care of myself. I hired a postpartum doula for a few weeks as we relocated to a new town. She was a lovely, witty nanny from England, who got after me constantly for not letting her do more around the house. Still, during that year, I struggled. I developed shingles, several recurrent sinus infections, lost about 20 pounds, along with my milk supply (which I built back up with a lot of blood, sweat and tears) and had wrist surgery. As I always say in yoga, our bodies are telling us something when this kind of pain and inflammation manifests! My body was telling me to find some help and to build my village. I can see that clearly now.

Letting go and letting others into our chaos was tricky business. I suffered with the defeating feelings of not being able to do everything myself, plus a heavy dose of guilt. Why do I keep having kids if I can’t do everything myself? Slowly though, I was able to make some changes that allowed me to lean on others – to receive and to surrender.

In the end, this martyr type of thinking doesn’t end up benefitting us mamas in any way. We aren’t seen as heroes if we try and do it all. In fact, I’ve been told that when I can delegate and pass stuff off, that I’m much more pleasant (thanks, Noah). In my recent experience, the act of giving up some control and letting people in also helps deepen relationships. By showing vulnerability and “realness” in these situations, people can connect on a deeper level, leading to growth and fulfillment in the heart department.

Asking for help and creating our sweet little village has also been great for my kiddos. I see the people in our lives helping to shape these babes, teaching them how to interact with personalities that differ from their crazy, attachment-obsessed parents. There are so many ways of doing things, so many new experiences to have and spaces, not only in our little environment to explore, but also within the human experience for them to absorb.

It is a daily, active practice to allow myself to lean on the support of others, to let the village support my family and me and to be available for the village as an exchange. I am, however, fully committed and finally feel like I am learning the life-saving art of letting go…maybe. It’s kind of like three steps forward and one back, but at least I am going forward.