HOPE AFTER HURT

Hurting Deeply. Healing Loudly. Rising Stronger.

Tag: motherhood

  • Building a Bright Life After a Dark Storm

    My early postnatal period has been just as beautiful as it has been triggering.

    For the first time, I feel like I truly got my newborn bubble. No postnatal depression and only a tiny bit of anxiety—which I’m sure is normal for most mums. Being medicated this time around has definitely helped.

    Our little boy is perfect. He’s a great feeder, a great sleeper, and honestly just an angel. Big brother is absolutely obsessed with him, and we are thriving as a family of four. My husband and I are working as a team, tackling the hard moments together.

    But that doesn’t mean my mind hasn’t had some dark moments.

    One of the hardest parts of motherhood and breastfeeding is the amount of time you spend alone with your thoughts. Especially during those long night feeds. You can be lying in a bed surrounded by the people you love most—your husband, your toddler, your newborn—and still feel incredibly isolated.

    It’s during those quiet hours of the night that I tend to struggle the most.

    The dark thoughts creep in. The memories come flooding back. My mind starts playing tricks on me. I find myself wondering how my husband could have betrayed me in such a painful way while I was caring for his newborn baby. The hurt runs so deep, and although I wholeheartedly believe we can move forward from this, part of my heart will always carry the scars. Healing doesn’t erase what happened. It simply teaches you how to carry it.

    I’ve found myself slipping back into old habits. Wanting to check his phone. Checking his location. Looking for reassurance in places where reassurance can never truly be found.

    The truth is, there’s really no point checking his phone. Even if he were cheating again, he wouldn’t leave evidence lying around this time. People often tell me how sad that statement is. Maybe it is. But I’ve realised that I can’t build my life around “what ifs.” I have to live in the reality that’s in front of me. I have to choose happiness in the present moment and trust myself to cope if life ever falls apart again.

    I don’t believe he will cheat again. But I also don’t think I’ll ever trust the way I once did. There will probably always be a small part of me that thinks, “Maybe.” But I’d rather take that risk and build a happy, fulfilling life with the father of my children than spend my life running from the possibility of being hurt. The truth is, I would likely carry these trust issues into any future relationship anyway.

    I hate the part of him that did this to me. But I still love him. And I love the man he has worked hard to become over the last year.

    A lot of mums talk about postpartum rage—the anger that can come with exhaustion, hormones, and the huge adjustment of welcoming a new baby. I’ve experienced less of it this time around, but I’ve noticed something interesting. The anger isn’t directed at my husband anymore. It’s directed at his affair partner. The complete disrespect of knowingly doing that to another woman—particularly a mother during one of the most vulnerable periods of her life—is something I still struggle to comprehend.

    It makes my blood boil.

    Maybe that’s because it’s so far removed from who I am as a person. People always say, “Never say never,” but after living through this experience, I can say with confidence that I could never knowingly participate in causing this kind of pain to another woman. Especially another mother.

    Despite the triggers, this postpartum experience has been incredible.

    I feel overwhelmingly grateful. Grateful for my two beautiful boys. Grateful for the family we’ve built. Grateful for the strength we’ve found in the middle of something that could have destroyed us. Every day, I fall a little more in love with my husband as I watch him show up for our family. As I watch him be present. As I watch him become the father our boys deserve.

    I never imagined something so beautiful could grow from something so painful. But somehow, we’ve built a bright life from a very dark storm.

  • From Betrayal to Birth

    He’s here.

    Our little boy was born almost two months ago, and he is the perfect addition to our family.

    I wish I could say that the pregnancy, birth, and early postpartum period were without challenges or triggers, but they weren’t.

    The end of pregnancy became really hard for me, both physically and mentally. My first pregnancy was a dream, and although this pregnancy was also straightforward medically, it was much more difficult physically. I struggled with issues in my hips and pelvis, along with the worst coccyx pain. I had an incredible alternative medicine team who provided relief, but I still experienced flare-ups.

    Mentally, I was declining. In many ways, I was mentally stronger than I had ever been, but the closer I got to giving birth, the more I felt myself slipping, and that scared me. I was aiming for a VBAC (vaginal birth after caesarean), and I knew that in order to achieve it, I needed to be mentally strong. Labour and birth are such a mental game. Pain has never really been the issue for me—I have always coped well with labour pain—but I knew my mind needed to be strong, and I was struggling.

    I was becoming triggered by the smallest things: my husband going to the gym, not answering his phone, or not wanting to take time off work to come to appointments. I knew we were stronger than ever. I knew he wasn’t having an affair. But my brain couldn’t stop revisiting the past.

    Towards the end of my previous pregnancy was when he was talking to another woman and finding comfort in someone else. As my due date approached, I found myself constantly calling him, needing reassurance, and wanting to be with him. I was no longer content spending time by myself or even just with my son.

    Eventually, my husband finished work two weeks before the birth because I simply wasn’t coping. Having him with me and soaking up those final weeks as a family of three brought me so much comfort. He never complained. He simply took care of me and supported me through it.

    To the average family, this probably sounds strange, but one of the biggest sources of reassurance for me over the past year has been my husband wanting to spend time together as a family. I know that sounds like such a normal thing, but during our son’s first year of life, it wasn’t something we did often. My husband was distant, and even when we spent time together, it rarely felt like quality time.

    People often say that in order to rebuild your relationship, you need to focus on the two of you—going on dates, being intimate, and spending time alone together. While that may be true to an extent, healing for us wasn’t just about the two of us. It was about our family.

    Investing time and effort into family life healed me, and in turn, it healed us. It brought us closer together and made us a stronger unit.

    Once labour started, I felt myself calm down. It showed throughout my labour and birth experience. I truly believe everything I had endured over the previous year helped me get through it.

    I kept repeating to myself, “If I can survive the last year, I can survive anything.”

    With every contraction, I recited, “I can do hard things,” and for the first time in a long time, I truly believed it.

    During my first labour and birth, my husband was pretty useless—sorry, hubby, but it’s true. He didn’t really know how to help, and I didn’t know how to tell him what I needed. I wanted to do everything myself.

    This time was completely different.

    I asked my mum to be there as well, partly because I knew I might need the extra support and partly because I wanted her to witness the birth of her grandchild. My husband was by my side the entire time. I had a mostly unmedicated labour, with more than twelve hours of active labour, and he supported me through every minute of it, squeezing my hips through every contraction to help manage the pain.

    I did think about her during labour, which I really didn’t want to do, but strangely, it helped. Whenever she entered my mind, it made me more determined. More determined to push through the pain. More determined to prove to myself that I could do hard things.

    There is something about overcoming difficult situations that makes me feel as though I’ve reclaimed a part of myself. Not because life is a competition, and not because “winning” is what matters, but because choosing to keep going when things hurt feels like a victory of its own.

    The truth is, no one wins when an affair is involved. There are no trophies, no perfect endings, and no way to undo the hurt that was caused. But what I have learned is that healing is possible. Trust can be rebuilt. Families can be restored. Not because the past changes, but because the people involved choose, day after day, to keep showing up. As I hold our newest little boy and watch our family of four settle into this new chapter, I don’t feel like I’ve won. I feel grateful. Grateful that I stayed. Grateful that he stayed. Grateful that we did the work. And grateful that after so much hurt, we’ve found hope again.

    Sarah xx

  • Life Update

    Hey everyone,

    I’m sorry I’ve been so MIA these last few months — life has been a lot, in the best and hardest ways, and I finally feel ready to sit down and catch you all up.

    Let’s start with the good news… SURPRISE! We’re having another baby.
    This little one was a shock to us, but a very welcomed one. Another child was always something we envisioned for our family. Even after the betrayal, it was a topic we approached carefully and honestly, and we both agreed that expanding our family still felt right for us. My husband has grown so much over the past year, and watching him step up as a father in such meaningful ways has been healing for both of us. We’re excited for this next chapter and can’t wait to meet our new addition.

    With this beautiful news has also come a lot of emotional work for me.
    Pregnancy has been a major trigger in my healing journey. It was during my last pregnancy that my husband’s mental health declined and things began to change, so stepping into pregnancy again has brought some of those memories back to the surface. I’ve really had to ground myself in the present and remind myself that this is a different chapter, with a very different version of him — and of me.

    There have been moments where I’ve needed reassurance, and that’s okay. Sometimes he struggles with it because he feels like I’m “bringing it all back up” or “throwing it in his face,” which I’m not. I’ve explained to him that choosing to stay doesn’t mean pretending nothing happened — it means working together. Seeking reassurance isn’t about punishment; it’s about support. And healing sometimes requires exactly that.

    Around the same time we found out I was pregnant, both of my grandparents became unwell and ended up in the hospital. My Granddad was diagnosed with a nasty cancer, and my Grandmother contracted Influenza A. They spent two months in and out of hospital, and during that time I stepped into the role of supporting my Grandmother.

    Sadly, my Grandmother passed away, and the grief has been immeasurable.
    It’s been such a strange, heavy season — grieving someone I was incredibly close to while also growing a new life. It has been two months since her passing, and I wish I could say it has gotten easier, but it hasn’t. I think about her every day and dream about her almost every night. I know grief has no timeline, and I’m just trying to give myself grace as I move through it.

    I’m trusting that the universe only gives me what I can handle. And so far, 2025 has tested that theory — but it has also taught me so much about resilience, love, and choosing hope even when it feels heavy. I’m still here, stronger than ever, and doing my best to take life one moment at a time.

    I hope everyone has been doing okay, and that you’re continuing to rise beyond the betrayal,
    Sarah xx

  • 5 Things That Helped Me in the Early Days After Infidelity

    Firstly, if you’re here reading this because you’ve found yourself in a situation similar to mine — I’m so sorry. Infidelity is gut-wrenching. It’s something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. If you’re in the thick of it, please know you’re not alone.

    I created Hope After Hurt to help other women navigate life after betrayal — to share what helped me survive, and eventually start to heal. There are many things that can support you on this journey, and I’ll be exploring them more deeply in upcoming posts. But today, I want to share the five things that helped me most in those early, painful days.

    1. Counselling — Together and Alone

    The number one thing that helped both me and my husband in the initial stages after I found out about the affair was couples counselling. I know how fortunate we are to have had access to it — especially in today’s economic climate. It’s not cheap, and the cost can be a barrier for many. But if you’re considering it, I really encourage you to shop around. In my experience, session prices ranged anywhere from $90 to $500 depending on the provider, and there are more affordable options out there.

    Individual counselling has also been incredibly beneficial for me. It gave me a safe space to vent, reflect, and learn tools to support my mental health. People often say things like, “You’re so strong,” or “You handled that so well.” And while I appreciate those words, the truth is — my mental health took a massive hit. I was shattered. I felt shattered. Therapy helped pull me out of those dark places. It reminded me of my worth and gave me strategies to start rebuilding who I was.

    2. Journalling (In a Way That Worked for Me)

    I’ve had a bit of a love/hate relationship with journalling over the years. Sometimes it helps. Sometimes it overwhelms me. During this time, I threw out the rules and did it my way — no prompts, no pressure. Just a place to unload the chaos in my mind.

    It helped me process intrusive thoughts and also made communication with my husband clearer. I’m the type of person who, if I don’t say something right away, I’ll forget — and then bring it up at the worst moment. Journalling helped me figure out whether something was worth raising or if it was something I could work through on my own. It became a quiet space to organise the emotional mess.

    3. Esther Perel’s Work

    I’ve been a long-time follower of Esther Perel — therapist, speaker, and New York Times bestselling author — so I turned to her work almost immediately. Her book The State of Affairs: Rethinking Infidelity was a game-changer. She explores why people cheat and how, in some cases, an affair can be the beginning of a new marriage — with the same partner.

    She also hosts the podcast Where Should We Begin?, which features real couples in therapy sessions. Listening was eye-opening and validating. It helped me feel less alone, and more empowered by seeing how others faced (and worked through) similar situations.

    4. Being Present with My Son

    My son is the light of my life. But I promised to be honest here — and the truth is, I wasn’t a good mum in the first month after I found out. I was numb, disconnected. I cried — a lot — even in front of him. I didn’t want to parent. I was shutting down.

    Slowly, as I started to re-engage and be present with him, I felt pieces of myself come back. Focusing on the moment — not the pain of the past or fear of the future — helped me breathe again. It’s hard to stay stuck in the dark when a toddler is grabbing your hand and pulling you into joy, giggles, and mischief.

    5. Focusing on Me (For the First Time in a Long Time)

    It’s sad, but true — it took infidelity for me to realise I needed to put myself first sometimes. And that doing so actually makes me a better mum, a better partner, and a healthier version of myself.

    So what did I do? I started small. I set a boundary: Wednesday afternoons are mine. When my husband gets home, I clock off. I go to a Pilates class, I skip cooking dinner, and I take a break from the bedtime routine.

    It might not sound like much, but as someone who cooks most meals, works, and is the primary caregiver — that one evening of freedom changed everything. It gave me something to look forward to and reminded me that I matter too.

    I plan to explore all of these steps more deeply in future posts. But if you have questions or need someone to talk to, please don’t hesitate to comment, email, or message me on social media. I’m always open to chatting — and walking alongside others on this difficult, courageous journey.

    Let’s rise together,
    Sarah xx

  • Introducing Hope After Hurt

    Hi, I’m Sarah — and this is Hope After Hurt.

    I’m a 30-something woman, wife, and mum who never imagined I’d be writing these words.

    Seven months ago, I discovered my husband — my partner of 13 years — had been unfaithful. It was the kind of moment that splits your life in two: before and after. I was devastated. I always believed that if something like this ever happened, I would walk away. But when it actually did, my decision wasn’t so clear-cut.

    I chose to stay. 

    Not out of weakness, but out of strength — for my son, for myself, and for the life I still believed we could rebuild. Staying didn’t mean forgetting, and it definitely didn’t mean excusing. It meant choosing to face the pain head-on, to ask the hard questions, to do the inner work — not just to repair a marriage, but to reclaim me.

    Because the truth is, betrayal doesn’t just break your heart — it shatters your identity. Who am I now? What do I believe? What do I deserve? These are the questions I’ve been living.

    Hope After Hurt was born from a place of wanting to find purpose in the pain. I wanted a space where I could write honestly about healing after infidelity — the good, the brutal, the confusing. A place for women like me, who never thought they’d be here either.

    This is not a highlight reel. This is the in-between. The picking-up-the-pieces. The rediscovering of self-worth. The rebuilding of trust. The moments where you wonder if you’re strong enough — and the ones where you realise you already are.

    If you’re walking through betrayal, confusion, or heartbreak — I hope this space helps you feel seen. I don’t have all the answers, but I do believe in healing, in honest conversations, and in the power of women supporting women.

    Thanks for being here. You are not alone. 

    Let’s rise together,
    Sarah xx