Dear First-Time Expectant Mom

My niece is having her first baby very soon, and I was thinking of something to write in the card for the baby shower. What I want to say seems a bit long-format for that particular venue, so I am going to write it here, and if you're an expectant mother (some of this might apply to fathers, too, but I haven't experienced that angle and don't feel confident to proffer advice), please please try to remember at least some of this. If you read it and take it seriously, it might make your first year of parenting easier (in a way that allll of the books can't and don't).

Dear First-Time Expectant Mom:

Congratulations! You almost made it through your pregnancy! You've no doubt thought about the ways in which your life is about to change. Maybe you've taken classes. Maybe you've read stuff. That's all good. Unfortunately, most of it doesn't do much to address the reality you're about to face.

In my experience, much of pregnancy prep deals with practical issues: Planning for birth, and then utilitarian things like feeding and diapering and other childcare issues. That's all important. However, they're not the most important. They feel huge, and they are huge, so this sounds insane. But I promise you, it's the truth.

Here are some things I never saw addressed during my pregnancy, but they actually are pretty vital, so I'll share them with you. One, so you'll know that you're not alone. Two, so you can rest assured that everything passes (and comes back... and passes again, etc.).

1) You know your life is about to change, but you cannot possibly anticipate how. With my first child, I could still go out to eat. I could go shopping, I could travel. I could mostly operate (on less sleep) as before, toting my easy-to-please child around. Yes, it was 9 months before I got a full night's sleep again, but everything else was pretty smooth. With my second, we couldn't do anything in public because he cried. And I'll let you know when I start getting a full night's sleep (for the record: it's been 3.5 years, and I think twice he's slept about 6 hours in a stretch).

The best way to "prepare" for this change is not to try to anticipate anything. Have no expectations, and be ready to go with the flow. Maybe you'll be one of those moms blithely pushing a cart with a sleeping baby around Target, but maybe you'll be the one riding your bike around the neighborhood in the 90-degree heat because that's the only time your kid isn't fussy. That kind of leads into the second point...

2) There will be moments of unprecedented joy and magic, to be sure. But there will also be times when you feel deep regret and wonder if you made a mistake. After my first trip to Target with my younger, I sat in the car and cried with him, after he'd screamed his newborn(ish) scream our entire time inside of the store. I thought, "We have made a huge mistake! We were almost free!" My older child was coming of the age where doing stuff with the parents isn't super cool, and the hands-on parenting finish line had been in view.

Babies, even good-natured babies, are hard. They need every literal thing. They are demanding, and they do not offer positive feedback for months. You only hear from them when they're uncomfortable or unhappy or bored. There's no "high five for anticipating that one, Mom" from them. Ever.

With my first, I remember crying at the first bout of baby hiccups. They hiccups themselves didn't bother me, but just regarding this tiny human, I thought, "Why did they let us bring this person home? We don't know what to do." And then once, a few months later, I looked upon a "safe haven" sign at an urgent care... one of those places where you can relinquish your child with no questions asked. I wondered, "Why don't they have a 24-hour program? I'd come back. I really would."

I think there's a lot of pressure to "cherish every moment." Especially if you went to extraordinary means to have a child, or if you adopted, or if you had several failed pregnancies before you had a baby. Under that pressure, those totally normal moments of grief for the life you might have had can lead to extreme guilt, and with pregnancy hormones (or post-adoption exhaustion, or whatever your situation might be), this can lead to a downward spiral to the tune of "I'm a terrible mom. I don't deserve to have this child." False. You're a normal mom. In a few minutes, or days, or years, you'll feel sorry for your former self for not knowing this amazing person. Just maybe not immediately. Which dove-tails into the third point...

3) Maternal love might not be instant. Have you read things to the tune of, "The first time I saw those precious eyes, my entire heart melted!" I have. In fact, recently I saw a picture of a friend's daughter that was taken shortly after her third child was born. In the picture was her, in the hospital bed, holding the baby; her husband; and their other two children. It was captioned, "We're already in love!" Very truthfully, my knee-jerk was, "Honestly? Already??"

After my first was born, the nurse showed me the baby, and my mental monologue went, "Huh." Seriously, my deepest thought was, "Well, that's a thing that just happened." A few days later, when we were looking at having to be readmitted to the hospital for jaundice and failure to thrive, I wept over that baby, pledging my undying love and protection for as long as I lived. But I don't think that's the same thing as affection.

For me, the maternal protection (sort of "mama bear" thing?) was instant, almost instinctual. But the love built over time, as love does.

(Incidentally, and this note is specifically for my niece, one reason I include this point is that Nan told me I was the first person she'd ever heard say out loud that I didn't feel a deep emotional connection to my child at birth. She'd felt the same way, apparently. We're in good company.)

4) There are a lot of "experts," but you're the expert of your child. People have lots of ideas about parenting, especially babies. All sorts of very strong beliefs about feeding (breast, formula, or a mix? child-led weaning? veggies first? 4 months? 6 months?), sleeping (bed-sharing? sleep training? naps?), scheduling (important? comforting? necessary? parent-led?), waste management (cloth? disposable? elimination communication?), training (set habits early? spoil a kid?), caring for your child (stay home? nanny? day care? preschool?). The advice can be overwhelming.

Knowing your options is great, and then knowing your family so you can make the best choice for you is the best thing. People won't always agree with your choices, and sometimes vocally. I've had homeschool mom friends who were reluctant to admit they'd put their kids in school lest they be looked down on by other homeschool moms. I've also had friends not admit they homeschool lest they be seen as "one of those moms." You can listen to well-meaning input as much as you want, then, by all means, kindly shut it down, saying something like, "Thank you for caring, but this is the best decision for our family right now."

Whatever you do, don't internalize it. There's a lot of fear that the wrong step might "ruin" your child. "If they go to daycare, they'll never bond properly with me as a primary care-giver!" "If I let them sleep with me, they'll never go into their own bed and they'll need therapy just to go to college!"

There was a podcast a few years ago on Freakonomics that bears a listen. The short version of what they found is: As a parent, it actually doesn't matter a whole lot what you do, in terms of reading to your kids or putting them in enrichment programs, or working full time, or staying home, or teaching them three languages as they grow up, etc. People basically turn out fine, regardless. That might sound defeating, like, "Why even bother?" but to me, it's extremely comforting. I have good intentions and might make some missteps, but my kids are not going to suffer inordinately because of them.

What these economists found is that people *do* remember whether or not their parents were kind to them, and that their ideas about drinking and smoking were affected by their parents. But, really, that's about it. So do your best, be kind to your kids, and don't turn them into emphysemic drunks.

5) "A mom has to take care of herself before she can take care of her kids." Can we just call BS on this right now? Granted, you need to eat food. And watch for signs of illness. But there are times, occasionally long stretches of time, when you simply cannot care much for yourself. Sometimes, you can't make yourself sleep when the baby sleeps because you have too much to do. There are times when you just want five minutes in your own quiet head, but your baby has a different idea, and you wonder about those moms who confess to using the restroom as a getaway, because whose kids respect a closed door? You will reach the point, once, twice, multiple times, where the thought occurs to you, "If I don't get XYZ soon" where XYZ is a full night's sleep, an afternoon with no responsibility, an entire meal eaten sitting down without holding a baby in your lap, etc., "then I'm going to lose my freaking mind."

The good news is: You won't. Not permanently, anyway. Yes, you'll forget commonplace words when you're trying to have a conversation. Yes, you'll feel like a zombie and wonder what happened to your energy. Yes, you'll cringe when Nana tells you that she just woke up from her second nap today... nope, sorry. That one's a bit too specific for the general public. But you get the idea. The good news is that the human body, especially mom's, is resilient in ways you never would have imagined.

One thing that really helps is to release the "I need" mentality. Or, worse, the "I deserve" one. As in: "I need at least seven hours of uninterrupted sleep." "I deserve a break!" "I can't survive without two hours to myself every day." Accept that you have a new normal and lean into it, finding rhythms that work for you and your child. It likely won't be ideal for either of you. For you, you now have an entire new human reliant on you for every single thing. From the baby's perspective, he was just somewhere all of his needs were met with no bright lights or scratchy clothes or loud noises and everything is overwhelming. But you can find a comfortable place. Together.

And that's another thing...

6) Always give your child the benefit of the doubt. You will, mark my words, think (or say out loud), "I just fed you and changed you and you got a bath and you're comfortable right now, so WHY ARE YOU CRYING?!" And you might even mentally, or verbally, add, "Are you TRYING to make me crazy?!" Because that's how it can feel.

Just remember what we said above about your child's former home. It was literally tailored to him and meeting his needs. Everything is new and scary and he needs your empathy and support, even when you feel like you've reached the end of your ability to provide it. You will never look back and wish you'd been more severe. As disconcerting as the sound of your baby crying is, it is the only means they have to communicate with you.

7) You can fight your baby's natural inclinations, or you can accommodate them. Your child might be awake from 4 AM to 6 AM. Every day. For months. You can spend that time saying, "Go back to sleep!" and trying to rock them, nurse them, and cajole them back to sleep, all the while becoming more frustrated and desperate, or you can figure out a way to make it work. Go to sleep at the ridiculously early hour of 7:30 PM. Take a short nap before heading to pick your child up at daycare. Drink lots of coffee. Use that time to play, to be present, to bond.

Back when my younger child cried 4+ hours per day for no discernible reason and with no apparent fix, someone encouraged me that during those most stressful times is when your bond with your child is forged the strongest. I didn't fully understand it at the time, and maybe I still don't. But I do know this: When that child is upset now, even with me, he will still cry in my arms. Is it because he knows, from the day he was born, that I don't run from his crying? I'm not sure. But guess what? I know it.

Same with your baby not being prone to napping, or only wanting to fall asleep in your arms, or never wanting to take a "full" feeding (whatever that is). Help your child learn to listen to his own body by taking his lead on these things when you can.

That old phrase, "You can lead a horse to water, but you wan't make him drink" applies to so much. When I hear a parent talk about how they spend half of their day trying to get their kid to sleep (a couple of hours at nap time and a couple at night), I just wonder, "Why?" There's a lot of pressure to "develop good habits early" or else. The implied threat is your child's inability to be disciplined or function normally, but that's a load of garbage. Most adults can sleep when they need to (absent medical or mental issues preventing it), sit at a table for an entire meal, etc.

Don't make your life difficult now because you're trying to insure against an imaginary future disaster that is not likely to happen.

8) Your child will inevitably bring about the most joy you will ever experience. He will also uncover your weaknesses and challenge you in ways that no parent, sibling, or romantic partner ever could. I'd never say, "Be grateful for the opportunity to grow" because I hate to hear that kind of garbage (and I don't want to get punched in the face). But I mention it so you can be on the lookout for it. When you feel the most strong resentment or frustration toward your little one, stop and ponder, "Why is this causing such a reaction in me? What is making me feel like this?" (And sometimes the real answer is simply "I'm beyond tired and have zero energy for myself, much less another human." Welcome to parenting!)

I've often said that having a kid forces you either to grow up or to be a lousy parent. It's your choice, and it's one you're going to have to make over and over again. Just know that a failure here and there doesn't mean you've messed it up irreparably.

Finally, I want to leave you with this assurance: I know a lot of moms. I know moms who stay home and make kid-raising their full time job. I know homeschooling moms who work full time and have a nanny. I know moms who've worked from the beginning so that their kids have grown up "in" daycare. I know moms who have done a combination of things as their lives have changed. And all of those kids know who their mom is, they love them dearly, and every one of us finds ways to make our relationships with our children the obvious priority. All of our kids feel this. They all know they are cherished. There is no one right way.

Do your thing. Accept help. Reach out. Be honest. Enjoy as much as your heart can handle, and don't feel guilty when you're bored senseless. Recognize that you can guide but you cannot control another human being, even a tiny one who needs you for everything. Rest assured that he will turn out all right.

Best of luck, and happiest of days.

With love,
Aunt Sister