Our son, Jack, turned one month old today and I honestly feel like we deserve a piece of chocolate cake in celebration. Or maybe just a nap. My first month of motherhood can be summed up well into one word: survival! I don’t mean that in a negative way because there have been a lot of really beautiful moments. But no matter how many books or articles or blogs or friends you consult ahead of time—nothing can really prepare you for becoming a parent.
There have been times when I have literally said out loud, “I have no idea what I’m doing!” or “What do you want?!” To which our darling little boy graciously and helpfully replied: “Waaaaaaaaaah!”
I had lofty goals of writing a blog outlining ten things I learned in my first month of motherhood. But I’m tired. So I’ve summoned up enough energy to write about six.
All your nice things will get ruined.
Before Jack was born, I was in serious “nesting” mode. I deep-cleaned the house and reorganized the refrigerator and spent months getting his nursery ready. We were ready weeks ahead of time. My husband, Andy, lovingly assembled IKEA furniture and hung curtains and shelves in August because I’m crazy and thought December would sneak up on us. I shopped for the perfect frames and decorations and stocked the drawers with clothing and diapers and diaper rash cream. Everything was perfectly in its place before the due date.
Then we brought our baby home and reality struck.
I literally feel like we have spit up on every surface of our house. We’ve cleaned urine off the wall and poop off the dresser and spit up off the curtains. I still don’t totally understand how it happened—all I know is that it was 2am. Most of our gift cards have been used to restock on burp rags and diapers because we gravely underestimated the number we needed.
We’ve done so many loads of laundry and many of the neatly folded baby clothes and blankets already have stains on them.
Andy and I have both survived “the trifecta”—spit up, pee and poop that tragically all happen at the same time in the middle of a diaper change. When you survive the trifecta, you feel like you deserve a medal.
Although I’ve still managed to shower and throw on some mascara most days, I often find myself asking the question, “Does this shirt have enough spit up on it to go into the laundry?” Jack is an expert at soaking us both once we’re fully dressed and ready to leave the house with not enough time to change or start the entire process over. At which point, I find myself just accepting the fact that we’re all going to smell like milk for the next year.
Let go of your expectations.
My labor and delivery wasn’t anything like what I expected. Without going into all the gory details, I was scheduled to be induced one week after my due date—but started having contractions early that same day on my own! When everything was said and done, I was in labor for 35 hours, pushed for almost an hour before he got stuck, and ended up with a C-section.
Ultimately, he’s here and we’re both healthy. I’m thankful for the doctors and nurses who cared for us. I’m thankful for my husband who was an absolute stud and didn’t sleep for almost 48 hours. I’m thankful for family members who spent countless hours in the waiting room just so they could be there for a few moments to welcome Jack into the world. But those first few days weren’t anything like I had hoped or expected.
In all my research before delivery, I arrogantly skipped the chapters in all of the books that talked about C-sections and the recovery process. Because certainly, my labor and delivery would go as planned. Serves me right, eh?
I had expectations about that magical moment when we would arrive home from the hospital with our son. Which turned out to be in the middle of a snowstorm right as my pain meds were wearing off. I was in miserable pain and curled up on the couch while my husband hauled the baby and all of our bags in from the car.
People have asked us if parenthood has been harder or easier than what we expected. I feel like it’s too early to say, but for now I can summarize. There have been moments when I have felt completely overwhelmed and also moments when I have been so proud of us for the way we’ve stepped into this new season. I’m learning that it’s important to let go of expectations and just try to go with the flow more.
Get out.
One of the biggest challenges for me was feeling cooped up in the house after delivery. Not only was it below freezing most days, but also not being able to drive for two weeks felt like a punishment. I was thankful that Andy got a few days off of work so we could tag-team during the day. Once he went back to work, friends and family took over—keeping me company while I breastfed and changed diapers and watched countless hours of HGTV.
But eventually, I needed to get out and remember that there was a world out there beyond burp rags and diapers. Some of the best advice I got was from my dear friend, Lindsey, who challenged me to get out of the house at least once a day as soon as possible. Even if I just drove through the Starbucks drive-thru or walked around Target for an hour or went to church on Sunday morning only to miss half the service for another feeding—getting out of the house has helped me feel human.
It’s true what people say, the first two weeks are the hardest. I think it’s mostly because you feel like a zombie from lack of sleep and your body is still recovering from everything it has been through. But sometime around week three I started to feel more like myself again and I think getting out of the house and breathing in some cold winter air did us all good.
When someone offers to help, say YES!
This is the part when I say a huge THANK YOU to all of our friends and family who loved us well this first month. Not only were we showered with endless gifts before Jack was born, but people showed up for us big time in the weeks after we got home from the hospital.
I’m someone who is fiercely independent and I like the challenge of being able to handle it all. But accepting help is so necessary in those first few weeks. We were truly in survival mode and if it wasn’t for people bringing us meals every night and stopping by with coffee and holding the baby while we napped and showered—I don’t think we would have made it.
The first month of motherhood is not a time to be a hero. It’s a time to accept help from the people who love you the most. Trust me, you can’t do it alone.
On a side note—THANK YOU, Andy, for being the best support of all. I’ve learned to love and appreciate you even more this past month. Seeing you in dad-mode makes you even more wonderful to me.
There will be tears.
It’s normal for babies to cry 2-3 hours a day during the first month. Sometimes they cry a little bit more. As a new parent, this feels completely overwhelming. Slowly, I’ve learned to tune-out some level of normal crying and not let it unravel me—but at first it felt like every cry was a sign of my personal failure as a parent.
In reality, babies just cry. And sometimes moms cry, too.
In the past month, I have cried—from laughter, from exhaustion, from joy, from frustration, and from all those hormones. I’ve just accepted that for now tears are the new normal in our house and eventually we’ll pull it together.
Love your body.
Admittedly, I haven’t always loved my body. I’ve been my own worst critic and have chosen to see the blemishes and extra pounds and things I wish I could change. But in the past month, I have learned to respect and appreciate my body in a new way. Women, our bodies are amazing. For nine months, all that my baby needed was me. He didn’t need a perfectly decorated nursery or a truckload of clothes from Target or special bottles or a high-tech swing. He just needed his mom to be healthy.
Although things didn’t go as planed during the long labor and delivery process, I was thankful for my body— it was strong and it brought Jack to us.
As I take on the challenge of breastfeeding, I am amazed by the way my body produces just what he needs. It’s bizarre, but beautiful how everything works. Every week, he’s growing and changing and my body is adapting to him along the way. My body is more than just something I dress up in the morning—it brings life and comfort. When I wrap my arms around him, he gets calm. The smell of my skin makes him stop crying. It’s an amazing thing that our bodies do as we love our little ones. So moms, remember that you are irreplaceable and oh so perfect in the eyes of your child.
I’m slowly learning to embrace the stretch marks and celebrate the leftover baby weight, because they are signs that my body did an incredible task. My body deserves rest and respect.
It has been a beautiful, challenging and emotional month. I am humbled by this journey of motherhood so far and can’t wait to see what we learn in month two!
HEATHER SOMEONE 