While we spend nine months preparing for the birth of a child, we rarely prepare for the birth of a mother.
Aliza Carr has sat with hundreds of women in their early postpartum days.
The thing she hears most often isn’t “I’m so happy”. It’s “I don’t recognise myself anymore”.
“You spend years building a sense of who you are – your career, your independence, your relationships, your routines – and then, overnight, so much of that changes,” Carr, a midwife and Haakaa medical board member, says.
If you’ve felt like a stranger in your own skin during your transition to motherhood – disoriented, emotionally raw, quietly mourning the person you used to be – you are not alone, and you’re not failing.
You’re experiencing what is known as ‘matrescence’.
What is ‘matrescence’?
Matrescence is the physical, emotional, hormonal and social transition to becoming a mother.
Defined by anthropologist Dana Raphael in the 1970s, it’s a profound metamorphosis that can affect mental health, self-esteem and relationships.
The word sounds a lot like ‘adolescence’, and that’s intentional.
“Just like adolescence describes the enormous transformation of becoming an adult, matrescence describes the same kind of seismic shift that happens when a woman becomes a mother,” Carr explains.
And it isn’t only a lifestyle change; it’s a biological restructure that begins during pregnancy.
“Grey matter volume reduces in areas linked to social cognition as the brain streamlines itself, becoming more efficient at reading your baby’s cues, bonding and threat detection,” the midwife explains.
The levels of estrogen and progesterone are higher than at any other point in a woman’s life, then drop dramatically after birth.
“Oxytocin surges and cortisol shifts,” Carr says.
“Your cardiovascular system, immune system, pelvic floor and hormones – all of it changes rapidly.”
The ‘perfect mother’ myth
Matrescence can shift who you are, what matters to you and how you view the world.
Dr Sophie Brock, a sociologist specialising in motherhood, says these feelings stem from the gap between what women are told motherhood will be like and the reality of it.
“Mothers have been told that having a baby should be one of the happiest times of their lives, but this isn’t the full picture,” Dr Brock says.
She says a key driver of distress is the ‘perfect mother’ myth – a narrow, idealised image that leaves no room for the loss of autonomy that comes with a new baby.
When reality doesn’t match that image, it can trigger guilt, self-doubt and a creeping sense that something is wrong.
Dr Brock encourages mothers to embrace maternal ambivalence – the idea that deeply conflicting feelings can co-exist.
“You may feel waves of love and resentment, joy and grief, connection and frustration,” she explains.
“These feelings are not a sign that something is wrong; they are a normal, even healthy human response to the complexity of motherhood.”
Why naming it matters
Matrescence has gained renewed global attention following a recent US campaign to formally recognise the term.
“A word as significant as matrescence doesn’t exist in the dictionary yet, but ‘IDGAF’ does,” Carr notes.
“That says a lot about how seriously we’ve taken the maternal experience as a society.”
Until recently, the only term used to formally describe maternal struggle was postnatal depression (PND).
But many women who aren’t clinically depressed still feel deeply disoriented – and, Dr Brock says, naming matrescence would help fill this gap and increase awareness.
“When we don’t have the language to describe our lived experience, we can feel isolated and disconnected,” she explains.
“Mothers can come to believe that something is wrong with them, rather than recognising they are moving through a significant developmental transition.”
But she warns that naming matrescence is only part of the shift needed.
“If we only name the experience without addressing the conditions in which mothers are mothering, we risk individualising what is also a structural issue,” Dr Brock explains.
Supporting the birth of a mother
Matrescence reminds us that a mother is growing just as much as her child – a transition both experts agree deserves to be honoured and supported, not just survived.
To help women find themselves in motherhood, Carr suggests showing up practically.
“Take the night shift, make the food, manage the household admin, protect Mum’s sleep,” she suggests.
While formal postpartum care typically ends after six weeks in Australia, Carr emphasises the importance of checking in beyond that milestone.
“The adrenaline of the newborn phase has worn off, the visitors have stopped coming and Mum is exhausted,” she explains.
“Keep checking in at three months, six months, nine months – it matters.”