> ## Content Index > Fetch the complete content index at: https://www.themariejohn.com/llms.txt > Use this file to discover other available public pages before exploring further. # a Journal Page from Motherhood - URL: https://www.themariejohn.com/a-journal-page-from-motherhood/ - Published: 2025-01-26T18:11:05.000Z - Updated: 2025-01-26T18:11:05.000Z - Description: the spanish speaking housekeeper in the postpartum unit may have saved my life. - Author: Soul x SWMarie ✨ - Tags: Newsletter, #Migrated-1791144068973, #Import 2026-10-04 20:05 #### \[ I am currently moving over all of my posts from my Medium blog account to my Substack. This post was written in 2023! Enjoy \] So I’m sitting there in my diaper, breasts leaking colostrum and my daughter in my arms guzzling one of those pre-made Similac bottles because she refuses to latch on to my ridiculously large triple Ds(I don’t blame her. The chance of suffocation is real.) My lunch had just arrived so I’m attempting to scarf down a burger and fries while simultaneously trying to feed my newborn. I’m also hoping that no one walks in on me with my breasts hanging out because, duh, that’s embarrassing—even though every nurse in the unit has already seen my vagina. Just as I was able to finish eating, put on a T-Shirt and burp my little one—she walks in. Now, of course she knocked first, but before I could even say come in she was already in the door with her cleaning cart. I am sure they told her what a mess it was in here. *Just the night before, or should I say early morning hours around 3am, I had an accident. I stupidly tried to walk myself to the bathroom just two days after having my third c-section. The pain was unbearable once the meds started to wear off and I could hardly stand in an upright position. Anyway, I peed all over the floor and was super upset and embarassed.* *The nurse came in to me crying my eyes out standing there looking like an idiot in my white mesh underwear, no shirt, no pants. I mean, she’s literally seeing me at my worst. She tells me not to cry as I apologize like a child who’s just done something wrong. She cleaned the mess with a towel and helped me to the bathroom and back to my bed. Now, with me being a slight germaphobe, I cried even harder when she told me I should just go lay back down and worry about a shower in the morning. I was disgusted with this suggestion, but I knew it was better than the alternative. She wiped my legs and helped me in bed and that was that. So of course, that mess had to be cleaned properly not just wiped up. Housekeeping wasn’t supposed to come until later that day, but because of my accident she was sent earlier—and that was for the better.* So she walks in with this big smile on her face. “Hola” she says, as she is very quickly trying to clean everything so that she can get to her next room on time. “Hola” I say back. Sitting there watching trash TV and rocking my baby back and forth. I can see her staring at me as she is cleaning and I don’t feel uncomfortable I just kind of start to wonder what she’s thinking. She starts to smile a little awkwardly and she pulls her phone out and starts to speak Spanish into it. I quickly realize that she is trying to use some type of translation device. I smile at her as she seems so kind and eager to tell me something and I’m thinking it has to do with the baby or her job. She hands me the phone quickly and she seems really nervous but smiling at the same time. She’s rubbing her hands together as if they are sweating from anxiousness and nervousness. I look at the phone and the English words that are thrown together aren’t making sense. I smiled and told her I’m not sure what she’s trying to say. I felt stupid as I should’ve just said that into the google translate, so she could understand—but I was so curious as to what she was trying to say that I didn’t even think to do it. She apologizes to me and says that her English is not well and she tried two more times to get the translator to translate what she was saying and on the third try, I was able to make it out. In simple terms, she was trying to tell me that my presence in this room is peaceful… and that God spoke to her when she came in and said that me and the baby’s energy was peaceful, blessed, and special. As I am reading this and smiling and tearing up, she has tears in her eyes as well. She then says *“yes, I don’t know…I just… I don’t know. I come in…and wow. You are…so special I don’t know what it is.”* You can tell that it was hard for her to get those words out and she was crying and she looked at me as if she’d seen an angel and her hands were trembling. I could not express my gratitude and how much those words mean to me I just kept saying thank you, thank you. And she would respond to me, no thank *YOU.* When she left, I couldn’t stop thinking about her and those words. I was so shocked to hear that from a random stranger. All my life, I had been told that I was special. People have always flocked to me and liked to be around me. I don’t ever read too much into it though as I don’t want to seem boastful or cocky. I’ve always known there was something different about me and I am very humble to the fact. I started to feel as if the words “thank you” were simply not enough. When the next nurse came in, I asked her who the housekeeping lady was that just came in and that I needed to speak with her right away. So the nurse tracks her down and 10 minutes later she appears at the door and she looks almost as if she was scared as if she had done something wrong or offended me. My heart immediately sank into my stomach as I did not want her to feel this way at all. She was such a sweet lady and I needed her to know how much I appreciated her. I pulled up google translate on my phone and I told her *“You have no idea how much I needed to hear those words. Thank you for being so sweet, so precious, and so kind. I hope that whatever you’re going through in your life, you overcome those things. Thank you so much for those words.”* Her eyes teared up again and she said “Thank you, mamacita.” She blew a kiss at me and she went about her day. I’ve been dealing with a lot lately. I’ve been having to make very tough sacrifices, missing out on tons of sleep, going through financial struggles, having a hard time mentally and emotionally. I know for a fact I am dealing with postpartum depression on top of my daily struggles. I’ve cried myself to sleep some nights in the last four weeks. I’ve cried secretly to myself in the shower. I’ve had more wine than water some nights. And sometimes, I wonder if maybe my kids deserve a mom who isn’t always sad. If they deserve something more—even though every sacrifice that I make is for them. Even though I’ve never had a thought of not wanting them. I feel as if they deserve better. I’ve had thoughts of me not being here. Maybe I should just end it now so that I don’t feel this pain I feel and so that my kids can not see me so sad. And then, I think about the housekeeper in the postpartum unit. I think about how she said that God spoke to her and said I was special and blessed. Peaceful. I think about that and I remember that God is here with me. God is supporting me even when I don’t feel like he is. He spoke to a random lady and told her that my energy was peaceful and special. It was so strong that it made her cry. This is what I hold onto. Because, I know that if that is the case, then God isn’t finished with me yet. God has something grand waiting for me at some point—I just have to keep on pushing. He is real. He is here. I am peaceful, I am special, I am blessed, and these hard times will not last forever.