Before I was a mother, I took pride in the fact that I didn’t need the help of anyone. In fact, asking for help to me meant showing the world that I didn’t have everything together.

Then I became a mom.

In the first month that my daughter was born, I struggled tremendously with breast feeding, my husband worked late hours and was away a lot, and my grandmother passed away.

I had dreams that my first few months of motherhood would be filled with bliss and joy. And while my daughter did provide all of that, the truth is that I was falling apart from lack of sleep, difficulty with feedings and trying to handle grief.

My husband did the best he could to support me and hold down a full time job, but he kept insisting that I reach out and ask someone for help.

One afternoon when I was walking my dog and struggling to calm my crying baby at the same time, my elderly neighbor who lived next door came outside and asked me a simple question.

“Do you need help?” she asked.

My first instinct was to tell her that everything was fine. That I had it all together. To smile and say, “everything is perfect!”.

But I couldn’t do it anymore.

“Yes I need help,” I replied. “Do you mind coming over in the evenings to watch my baby while I walk the dog?” I asked.

It was a small request and she was happy to oblige. As the weeks went by, she was so wonderful with my baby that she watched her so I could shower, she watched her so I could grab a bite to eat, and she watched her so I could rest.

I found that I was happier, healthier and more present for my child.

The greatest lesson I have learned as a mother is that asking for help is okay if not vital for the well being of your baby.

It is okay to be vulnerable. It is okay to admit that things are not perfect. Chances are that most mothers feel the same.

You cannot give from an empty well. They say that it takes a village to raise a child, but I believe that it takes a village to raise happy and healthy parents.

I am so grateful to my village of neighbors, family and friends who readily help me when I need it and give me the time to fill up my own well.

I am a better mother, a better wife and better friend.

Being vulnerable and finding my village has been the greatest gift that I have given to my daughter.