Relationships, the Invisible Load, and That Icky, Unexpected and Intense Feeling of Resentment

One of the many things nobody warns you about is what happens to your relationship after you have a baby.

There is a romanticised idea that having a child with the person you love creates a deeper connection. And whilst that is often part of the story, there is another experience that sits quietly alongside it. Strain and distance. The feeling of being ships passing in the night. Both exhausted and both trying, but not quite reaching each other. It can feel like your relationship has quietly fallen to the side.

This is something a lot of mothers talk to me about. The frustration and resentment that builds quietly over time. The grief of missing the easy, carefree version of their relationship that existed before. The confusion of loving someone deeply and also feeling so far from them.

These feelings make a lot more sense once you understand what is actually happening underneath them.

How motherhood reshapes our relationships

Matrescence does not just reshape who we are. It reshapes every relationship in our lives. As Matrescence NZ describes, the relational domain is one of the twelve areas of significant change that mothers move through.

Within a parenting partnership, the changes can be particularly confronting. A lack of sleep impacts patience and communication. Conversations get squeezed in where they can, are often interrupted, and tend to focus on logistics rather than connection. Emotional and physical intimacy takes a back seat because there is simply nothing left in the tank. And often, an imbalance in roles and responsibilities quietly takes hold.

Research from Professor Andrea O’Reilly of York University helps put this in context. Mothers today are spending more time and energy raising children than previous generations, and doing so while also working, with less community around them, and in a culture that rarely acknowledges the weight of it.

O’Reilly also notes that many women live comfortably alongside their partners for years before having children, only to find that the arrival of a baby makes gender inequality visible for the first time. The division of labour that felt equal before a baby can suddenly look very different.

None of this means relationships are failing. It is a reflection of the environment we are parenting in. The lack of a village. The cultural and gendered expectations placed on mothers. But it is also an invitation to get curious.

What the invisible load actually is

One of the most significant contributors to relationship strain after having a baby is the mental load.

The mental load is the invisible, cognitive and emotional labour of running a family. The relentless knowing and anticipating that runs constantly in the background. It is not just doing more tasks. It is the continuous awareness of everything that needs to be done, by whom, and when.

Think of it like having one hundred open tabs running in your brain at any given time. Each one requires attention. Most of them are invisible to everyone else in the house, and often only noticed when something falls through the gap.

The appointment for immunisations is a great example. It seems like a simple task but when you unpack it, there is a lot to it. It is knowing when the immunisations are due. Making the appointment. Remembering to give Pamol before you leave home, packing the nappy bag and remembering the Plunket book. Bringing a comfort toy and knowing that this is likely to be upsetting for your child. Making room for the emotions and questions that are likely to arise. Comforting and entertaining your child in the waiting room while you wait for the all clear. Monitoring them for any side effects in the hours after, planning a quieter afternoon because you know that your child is likely to be a bit unsettled. And acting on anything else that may have come from the appointment. Then booking the next round. This is the cycle. It does not stop.

As Lucy Jones writes in Matrescence, we live in a culture that has simultaneously idealised and undervalued motherhood. The mental load is a direct consequence of that contradiction. The work of running a family is expected to happen seamlessly and invisibly, and it is rarely recognised as work at all.

The default parent

In many parenting partnerships, one person becomes the default parent. The one who is asked first, always. The one who holds the full picture by default. The one whose own needs consistently come last.

This role is rarely chosen. It is assumed, often by everyone including the person carrying it, without conversation and without question.

Dr Sophie Brock, Motherhood Studies Sociologist, argues that when a woman becomes a mother she enters a new social role laden with expectations about who she should be, how she should mother, and even what she should feel. The default parent role is one expression of those expectations. Add in the Perfect Mother Myth, the idea that a good mother is always calm, always available, always putting everyone else first and doing it effortlessly, and it becomes almost impossible to name the load as a problem, let alone put it down.

Carrying the greater portion of the mental load is not a natural feature of motherhood. It is not because mothers are better at it. It is because we have been conditioned to hold it, expected to hold it, and rarely recognised for holding it. Over time, that invisibility takes a real toll.

Understanding resentment

Brené Brown, in Atlas of the Heart, describes resentment as a feeling rooted in perceived unfairness or injustice, one that tends to build when needs go unmet, boundaries are not set, or expectations rest on things outside our control.

Resentment tends to arrive quietly and build slowly. By the time we notice it, it has often been there for a while. In a parenting partnership, it typically grows from an imbalance that has gone unacknowledged, needs that have gone unexpressed, or an identity shift that has gone unrecognised by the people closest to us.

This can look like that feeling of rage in the pit of your stomach when your partner mentions they have plans over the weekend. Not because you do not want them to have a break, but because they can. Without planning, guilt or organising the family, they just can. It feels unfair, because you cannot do the same thing. You do not get the same level of freedom.

Experiencing resentment is not a sign that something is broken. It is a signal. Something is out of balance. A need is going unmet. The invitation is to get curious rather than ashamed. What is this feeling pointing to? What has not yet been said?

So, what do we do?

Resentment rarely needs a big dramatic intervention. It needs the invisible to become visible. 

Make it visible

Write down everything that lives in your head. Not as an accusation, but as a window into your world. Most partners are not choosing to opt out. They simply cannot see what is invisible. Putting it on paper is often the first moment a mother fully sees it herself.

Invite open conversation

Lead with how you feel rather than what your partner is not doing. Come at it as a team working on a shared problem, not as opponents.

“I am feeling overwhelmed and I would love for us to figure this out together”

lands very differently to

“you never help."

Share ownership

Aim for full ownership rather than help with tasks. Helping implies the load is still yours and your partner is doing you a favour. Full ownership means they hold something completely, the remembering, the planning, the follow-through, without being asked.

Check in regularly

The load shifts constantly. Build in a short regular check-in, even ten minutes on a Sunday evening, to talk about what each of you is carrying and what you need that week. Making it a habit means you are far less likely to reach breaking point before anything gets said.

Find small ways to reconnect

When time and energy are depleted, big gestures are rarely possible. But small ones make a big difference. Understanding each other’s love language can help you show up for each other in ways that are actually felt. There are free love language quizzes online if you have never explored this together.

If resentment is already sitting heavy, pay attention to it. Not with shame, but with curiosity. It is telling you something important. And if the conversation feels too hard to have alone, support is available. You do not have to figure this out by yourself.