I had it all figured out.
I had nannied… Twins, overnights, special needs… I knew babies.
I’d read the books and the blogs, from the humorous to the medical. Talked to parents. Formed opinions. I knew exactly what I wanted to do.
Then, I had a child, and it all went to hell.
I should have known I was in trouble during labor. After three days of a hospital induction the baby still wasn’t coming, so we were sent home. We got there and my water promptly broke, thick with meconium. With that, my med-free water birth went out the window as I was hooked to monitors and planted in a bed. This baby was literally shitting on my plans before I had even seen her face.
In the coming days, and weeks other dominoes fell. My vows against co-sleeping lost out to my desire for two hours of uninterrupted rest. Exclusively breastfeeding wasn’t as important as supplementing formula to get my skinny girl to grow.
The single mom stigma
I've never -- not even once -- been late on the rent in all my adult life. I have a stable job at a world-class... Read more
All of this in the midst of accommodating the overwhelming needs of the tiny dictator.
“How is the… adjustment going?” one mom friend asked, with a knowing look on her face. “I remember thinking it was hell on earth,” the dad of a two-year-old told me. “Welcome to the secret society,” my aunt said, “You can’t understand it until you’ve done it.”
I may not have been able to understand, but I would have liked a warning!
Recently NPR asked “Why are new parents depressed?” The segment focused on men and women, and asked if as a society we were even willing to talk about the unpleasant sides of bringing home a new baby, or if it is still too taboo.
Maybe it’s silly to mention. Maybe “they” are right, and those who haven’t experienced it won’t understand, and those who have been there will just smile knowingly. But it seems important to at least start the conversation.
I’m tempted to write, “but one smile from the baby makes it worth it,” or to clarify that while the last six weeks have been intense as can be, I’m definitely not depressed, just reeling from the new experience. And while both of those are true, those disclaimers play into the stigma, as I attempt to distance myself from people with the “real” problems.
Instead, I’ll ask, what were your expectations of bringing home a baby, and what was the reality? Whether you’ve reproduced or not, do you think this is something that is discussed openly enough?
As someone who really wants kids (and so does her partner) but isn’t ready yet, can I just express my appreciation for everyone who’s willing to honestly share their experience. I have no idea what our experience will be like, but I’m so grateful that there’s a range out there.
We have 3 neices all 3 and younger.
We’ve aided in-laws as they adjust to newborn life, and have seen the ups and downs they’ve gone through (including a 3 hour, none stop crying babysitting session), and, as a bonus, I work in a toy store.
After 2 years of trying to have a kid of our own, even knowing how horrible the first months will be… I think I will be so happy just knowing that hey, we made a miracle. We made life! … I will be very happy to put up with the crappiness to get the tiny person we want so much.
I expected it to be pretty rough – but that was because, as a bipolar person, I already knew that I was going to have hand off a lot of stuff. Bipolar people, even more then regular people, desperately need routine. We need 8-10 hours of good sleep a night and to keep ourselves healthy and relatively stress-free. I knew with a baby that was never going to be totally possibly, but I could get as close as I could. Rule 1 was that my husband did the night feedings. Under no non-emergency circumstances does Mommy wake up. Daddy can feed baby just as well. And you know what? At first I felt really selfish for that, but I got over it quick.
But overall, I have to say the biggest real talk I can impart is this: It is OK to sometimes hate your baby. Not hate in the evil sense, but really, really, dislike them in the present moment. I remember one day on a weekend when she just would not stop crying when I was alone with her. I was getting more and more pissed and anxious and (given that I have a history of acute episodes that come on pretty rapidly) I was starting to get scared that I would lose some control. I got so angry that I held her up to face me, just looked at her screaming and said, “You know what? Fuck you, kid.” Then I put her in the Amby and left the room. I went back in around 10 minutes later when she had stopped screaming, picked her up, and just picked up where we left off. And you know what? It felt good.
Babies ARE jerks – they’re demanding, temperamental and clingy. If those characteristics existed in an adult, you’d probably dislike them. But we don’t live in a cultural that acknowledges that one can feel negativity towards a “sweet little innocent baby.” (Frankly, I start to doubt the innocent part). Sometimes they will push you to the absolute edge, and when that happens, I think it’s cool to rant at them, bitch them out or whatever else you have to say (they don’t understand it, it’s cool). Maybe I wouldn’t do it with an older child, but by that time, maybe there are better options.
I think that the relationship you have with your kid is very much the relationships you have with anyone else. There will be wonderful days filled with love, and there will be days you can’t stand to be in their presence. It’s okay to have those days, it’s okay to have negative feelings towards anyone, even kids and even cute babies. Once I stopped holding myself to that impossible “forever loving mother” standard, I got a lot better at it.
I thought I would love her immediately, that I would take to parenting like a fish to water. My husband did, I didn’t. Thank goodness for him. I thought I would have no problem breast feeding, reality was me struggling, dealing with the fact that I could not produce enough milk. I didn’t really feel a connection with her until I went back to work – it was when I relaxed and let my husband handle most things. My daughter is two years old – it’s hit and miss for both of us. To all the single parents out there – my hat is off to you. I don’t know if I could do it without the husband.
I had visions of a med free birth, where afterwards i would be handed a screaming ball of baby and experience that magical moment you hear about. We’d go home, she’d be exclusively breast fed, we wouldn’t use a soother. I expected lack of sleep, i expected an adjustment of sorts but i still was blind sided.
I ended up with an emergency section a week late after she went into distress. I didn’t even get a glimpse of her in the OR before she was whisked away. I hemorrhaged. It was four hours before i finally convinced a nurse I NEEDED to at least lay eyes on her. The NICU nurses helped hubby and I navigate all my IVs and lines and coordinate them with her monitors, cpap, IV, gastric tube. And as much i loved to see that pudgy 11lb baby there was no magical moment from us. Breastfeeding was delayed and a disaster. Between the delay, my not so awesome physical state and me having to spend another three days in hospital just before she turned a month old for another unexpected surgery, my supply sucked. so we supplemented. And NICU had given her a soother.
Exhausted doesn’t come close to describing how i felt. I was a zombie.and serves me right for declining a blood transfusion. I’m a nurse and know exactly how bad my lab work was and i declined anyway. That was a mistake.
I had constant feelings of guilt that my body had failed in being able to birth her “properly” and now my body couldn’t feed her either. And i felt no special bond. Of course i cared about her but also part of me felt like she could have been any body’s baby. She ate, she pooped, she fussed, she slept. Repeat. I was plagued by shame for not feeling that magical bond society says you should have.
I went from working full time out in a busy high paced line of work to being trapped in a two bedroom apartment in the middle of the Canadian winter with a newborn. Hubby is military and left for several months when she was two months old. I will be honest and say yes, absolutely i was depressed and anxious. I constantly worried thst i wasn’t doing enough for her, that I wasn’t a good enough mother. And I felt guilty that i missed my work. I graduated four long years of university and only worked six months before going on maternity leave. i felt guilty for saying i enjoyed my work and missed it especially when I felt like inaudible worked so hard to get my degree.
It took a long time for me to work thru the feelings of confusion, guilt, shame and anger that i had, particularly towards myself. Now number two is due to arrive. Two weeks after we take possession of our newly purchased house. With hubby scheduled to leave for 12-14 months when number two is just 5 months old. This time i am going in with the only expectation being it will not be what i expect lol. I realize i habe no idea what to expect as we add another member to the family. I have no idea how my toddler will handle it. I have no idea how I’ll manage two on my own lol. So now I’m just hanging on for the ride.
My second baby cried for 2 hours before bed EVERY NIGHT for her first 15 months. In 15 months she never slept longer than 3 hours in a row. At 21 months, she is still the most intense baby I know of. I had an easy first baby, and for that I’m so grateful. He was my cuddly, thoughtful baby.
However, I am also grateful for my yelling daughter. She is sparkly, and a brilliant talker.
The reason why people say having children was the most amazing thing they ever did, is because it’s true. Before kids we had our graduate school degrees, our amazing jobs, travel, sports. But it doesn’t compare to watching my son figuring out that 4 x 4 =16, and having my daughter tell me that she wants the blue crayon. It’s crazy, but true. I guess that’s how hormones work!
No one prepared me for the horror of other people. “eww natural birth, yeah right!” Seriously, ‘can I hold him so you can ___?”, ” do you want us to ___ for you?” “can we help?” “can we come over and ___?” ‘you know____ right?” NO!!!!!
Not only were everyone’s horror stories about natural birth and breastfeeding wrong and completely caked in nothing but fear mongering, but everything else they spewed and offered as ‘well meant advice’ was awful.
The babe slept and breastfed VERY well. I was incredibly shocked because everyone tried to make having a newborn seem like the WORSE THING THAT COULD EVER HAPPEN. They were very very wrong. Yes I understand everyone/every baby is different, but I felt like it was pretty easy.
The horror in the newborn phase was everyone but my husband and the baby. The phone never quits ringing, the cell phone never quit with the dang notifications, our computers beeped and dinged with even more notifications. Lord forbid we didn’t call someone right back, right then and there. They would only leave more and more messages wondering if we were ok. Because obviously something horrible was why we didn’t respond to their calls ASAP. Explaining that you just want peace and quiet really, and I mean REALLY ticks family off. They acted like they were being kept away from ‘their’ precious sacred baby. Like you hated them. It was awful. Everyone assumed I would need them to run to my aid and save me from the baby. I hated it. The constant badgering made us wait a full week after the birth to let ANYONE come over. That full week of no visits was incredible. Nothing but rest and bonding. Amazing.
And even now that my son is 2&1/2, the hell in parenting for me is other people. My son has a speech delay and the questions range from flat out accusatory (yep, It’s my fault, beat the babe so hard he doesn’t want to speak) to over worry. Any time any family member finds out that my son has been to his therapy sessions they act like it was the most life changing thing ever, and now he will suddenly speak fluently like an English professor. They ask millions of questions when really, it was just another session. No Big Deal.
The advice never ends. Sorry, not sorry, don’t want your advice, don’t want your help, don’t need it, please go away.
Now at baby showers when the host asks for advice for the parents-to-be, I always write that the trouble will be other people, and saying No to them. That it is more than ok to just say NO, and even tho the ‘helpful’ person will be offended, you just have to do what you have to do to stay sane.
I’m currently expecting our first and, honestly, while I am mostly enjoying the experience this child is already making its presence known in a negative way. The sudden stabbing pain through my cervix for example. It made me panic that something was wrong, but no, my midwife assured me that it is only baby kicking my cervix. Oh joy! People have told me that feeling baby kick for the first time is a ‘lovely’ feeling or ‘feels like popping bubbles’. Well, so far my experience is more along the lines of ‘ow, that f***ing hurt!’ I’m sure that we will be fine, but I have no doubt whatsoever that I will have moments of wishing that we were still child free because I have those feelings already. The decision to have children is an emotional one and not a rational one. When I think about it rationally I think ‘what the hell am I doing?’ But when my emotions take over I absolutely know that this is what I want.
I have a 3 year old. Recently, I had an epiphany that I am just not the mothering type. This has become a hard realization to face. I feel a ton of guilt for not being the mom my child deserves. No one ever talks about this. However, since accepting this, my life is slowly becoming easier. Instead of wallowing in what life could have been, I am accepting what it is. I make a conscious effort to try to be better for my son. He didn’t choose to have a mom who is bad at this. And of course, I love him and want what’s best for him. Sometimes, he is awful, and sometimes so am I. I think parenting is a journey that is different for everyone. I wish people were more honest about what it’s like.
I think that this is really good to admit. I am not the mothering type, either. I hate the label ‘mom,’ and yet…I really like getting to know this little person that’s in my life. When I’ve taken a step back from the whole MOTHERING thing, I get along quite well with having a child living with me. My heart even starts to beat a little faster now when he calls me mommy, and I’m even thinking of having another child. I’m not sure I’ll ever really be the mothering type, but I do love my kiddo and looking at it like this mysterious experience where I get to see a baby grow up to be a little person, is magical. And then he poops and smears it on the wall and I think, ‘seriously? why am I not childfree?’
Okay I’m going to put this out there. The reality is that yes, babies suck. There are paybacks that make it worth it. Those who are parents do understand that in ways that those who are not parents really can’t.
What we are dealing with here is a little thing that Anthropologists (those who study why people do what they do, and in which I have an MS) call enculturation. Enculturation is that set of beliefs and practices that a culture puts together and believe/teaches are normal and natural.
However, I guarantee that for everything that you believe to be normal and natural there is a culture on this planet that believes the exact opposite just as deeply and truly as you do. The idea that motherhood is the most natural instinctive and enjoyable of experiences is enculturated in Americans and much of western culture. It is why we feel guilty when we do things that we believe we “shouldn’t” take time for ourselves? OMG say it’s not so what kind of a mother am I?!?!?!? Not believe that this is the most wonderful time ever? yeah that is enculturated too.
In reality parenthood is not instinctual, motherhood is not instinctive (yes I can give academic proofs if you like) . What it is, is an incredibly difficult/steep learning curve that we have to do while sleep deprived at levels that are tortuous. Looking at how prepared you were before this all happened, you were as ready as you could be. And honestly had anyone come up to you and told you the truth you would have thought they were crazy. You would have poo pooed our, “NO really when they say that parenthood is the toughest job you’ll ever love they aren’t joking! and the beginning sucks!” You would think that we had not been prepared, we had not read enough, we just were bad at it but that you’d be fine. These are all normal reactions when our enculturated beliefs are challenged.
There are some South American cultures that encourage things during labor that actually make it more dangerous and painful. But if you were to try to tell a pregnant woman not to do those things they would violently disagree with you. The point I’m trying to make here is that we could try to warn people of the suckage of those first few years of parenthood, but we would not be believed and if we push that idea too hard we could lose friends over it.
Believe me I’ve seen people (women) almost come to blows in a college classroom because we were doing a cross cultural examination of ways of giving birth and showed how some of the pretty standard Western ideas were false and people started losing their shit.
Duuuude, this was an fascinating read. Thanks for this!
YES. This comment is awesome.
Can you elaborate on your last comment….I’m fascinated and want to know more!!!!
Please write a guest piece about this! It sounds fascinating!
Great comment! See also beliefs about childhood, such as:
1. Children are innocent.
2. Children are naturally creative.
3. Children are naturally little savages who need to learn to become civilized.
4. Children are priceless (see sociologist Viviana Zelizer’s fascinating work on the shift from very small awards to parents in wrongful death cases to very large awards. In the late 19th/early 20th century U.S., the dollar amount would often be calculated by adding up the amount of money the child would have earned for the family over x number of years as a child laborer. The idea that a child’s life is irreplaceable is a very recent idea in our culture.)
Finally, a place where I can ask for honesty! It is so hard to ask parents and child-free people whether they regret their choices, because if they do, who would want to admit it?
For those of you who are child-free and past the time you could biologically have children if you wanted them “naturally” (I am adopted, so that term always seems weird to me but I can’t think of another right now!), do you ever regret your choice to remain child-free?
For those of you who did decide to have children, do you ever regret it? Do you ever wish you had the freedom of a child-free lifestyle?
I miss the first 3 weeks of my sons life- it was the only time that he was easy to handle! He nursed well, he slept, I slept, I got things done…then when he hit four weeks old the colic kicked in and him and I would curl up and cry together. For hours. Nothing I did could stop the crying. Combine this with living with my father who would freak out over crying babies and boom! There goes my milk supply because of the stress. Literally every time my sone cried I would tense up because my dad would give me a look that made me feel like a terrible mother because I couldn’t get my son to calm down.
If your able, my advice would be do not, I repeat, do NOT live with your parents or in laws and start a family. Mine was an oops otherwise believe me, I would’ve held off until we were living in our own place. We have our own place now and even though my son is still extremely stressful (to be blunt- I love my son, really I do, but quite frankly he is an asshole 90% of the time). I guarantee it is far less stressful since only my husband and I have to deal with it.
I would second this. My son was an accident as well, so my husband and I are living with my mother-in-law. Do not recommend. Would not repeat the experience. =x= My 16 month son still takes a bottle and doesn’t sleep through the night because he sleeps with her husband, who spoils him rotten. I’ve finally stopped working second shift, so I can be home with him at bedtime, so I’m crossing my fingers that things will get a little better soon.
Sharing with my 23-year-old daughter (the model in the Pithitude banner ad), with the caveat that I would have had her again in a minute!
Also, I think an important part of what you said, being a nanny taking care of other people children – is completely different from having your own. I was a pre school teacher before being a stay at home mom, and I thought, I can handle 10 , 2year olds by myself, and 3 babies in the nursery… how hard can one infant be? Very hard. It’s completely different when you are the one responsible 24 hours a day of taking a care of a new life. The demand for one on one attention is much harder than dividing your time between multiple children ( who have other kids their age to engage them, play with them) it really shocked me and I felt like a terrible mother, why can’t I make my child happy when every other child loves me, why is my child screaming and crying when I sing him a lullaby and another baby goes right to sleep in my arms. It was a very difficult transition, but I learned, my child is a unique individual with different needs and I had to learn how to respond differently to him ( also he is a dictator, I had to learn this and not give in to every demand) but for me it really has been the most incredible experience, even through all the difficult times, because he is my family, and … Ohana
I remembering talking to a mom at a park while I was babysitting once. She asked which kids were mine and I said, “Those two, but I’m just the babysitter.” She replied wistfully, “Oh, that must be nice. You get to go home at the end of the day.” She immediately added, “I mean, I love my kids, of course.” I don’t have kids yet, but I do want them, and I sometimes think of her comment. I’m glad I’ve been around babies and kids of all ages my whole life, and I work with preschoolers, because I hope it means I won’t be completely blindsided. But, getting to go home at the end of the day is not an option when they are your own kids!
I lost my shit about a week into the process. I had an emergency C-section after my son decided to kick his way out, foot forward. I had been committed to exclusive breastfeeding, but he was jaundiced (an incredibly common condition for infants) and the hospital suggested supplementing. I was having a hard time remembering to take the pain medicine they had prescribed to me, so I was hurting, -bad.- And my son was an easy baby. I’m pretty sure of that. No colic, grew quickly and normally, got past the jaundice pretty quickly. But the stress of it all got to me for awhile. I found that keeping a chart of feedings, diaper changes, and when I had taken my medicines helped me out. Just a quickly jotted line in a spiral notebook while he was eating anyways. It helped me turn this crazy hectic ‘what the fuck is even going on here’ into a routine, as well as keep me from wondering, constantly “When was the last time he ate?!?” It helped me wean him from the supplement bottle, too. I stopped charting after the first month, but it saved me from insanity for that first little bit.
I hear and read a lot about birth stress and how it is extremely tiring and confusing (although wonderful) because you want to do the right thing and there is no right answer to “why is he crying?” (at least no simple answer that works all the time).
But it is the first time I’ve read about the fear of being in charge of a kid in this world, although I have often wondered. It feels like something really huge and overwhelming. I can only hope that having two cats will at least soothe my anxieties about the smaller issues – how to handle the poop and the pain and so on.
Thanks for writing this.
This is great. It’s made me realise two things. Firstly, that having children, just like any other major life transition, should always be a conscious choice, not just an unavoidable “something people do”.
But secondly, rather than be put off by all this, I need to see it as just another major life transition (should I choose it). The kind of transition where a lot of the really shitty stuff sounds a lot shittier when you put it all in a big list. Now I’m just hypothesising here as I’m not a parent, so please don’t assume I think everyone who’s having a tough time parenting is just making it up; that’s not what I think at all! I think it probably sucks a lot of the time, but it’s just the new normal and each time you get covered in poop you may not be thinking “Well this is just great. Why did I have children? I hate my life!” You’re thinking “Well, I’d better clean up this poop” and get on with it. Rinse and repeat. Parents please correct me if I’m wrong. I’m just trying to rationalise it all in my own messed up wants-kids-but-also-after-reading-shit-like-this-kinda-doesn’t-want-kids brain…
But maybe It’s just like waking up at 5am in the middle of winter to do a 2 hour commute in the rain. TOTALLY SUCKS, but my partner and my mother and so many more people do it every single day – hating it of course – but that’s just their normality and they don’t have time to hate it every morning; they are too busy just doing the thing, not analysing how rubbish it is.
If someone was laying out the pros and cons of getting a full-time job in a stressful environment (or any environment), I wouldn’t fucking do it. Hell no! I’d live with my parents forever! I’m a teacher, and if someone actually laid out all the shitty bits of teaching out in front of me and asked me whether I’d like to be a teacher or not work at all, there is NO WAY IN HELL I would choose teaching. Nope. Parents’ basement forever, cheers.
I guess my personal conclusion is twofold: Firstly, that I shouldn’t read all the hard parts of parenting in one long list. That will just make me assume it’s just going to be me thrown into a Saw movie, fending for myself in the darkness, and then I’ll decide that wanting to have kids is dumb and why did I ever want them GAHD. Having kids has to be nice at least some of the time, otherwise all the nice quiet, lovely children I have ever encountered must just have been holograms or robots…
But secondly that if all the cons of parenting (much like the cons of being a nurse or teacher or lawyer or high rise window cleaner or simply working full time) still make me never even want to go there, then that is my right to choose not to do it, much like choosing to stay the fuck away from the aforementioned professions despise them being someone else’s passion.
Essay over.
I wasn’t really surprised by any of it. I have a toddler and an infant, and the newborn period was pretty much what I expected. If there was anything that was unexpectedly difficult, it was the numerous appointments for blood draws (to check bilirubin) and weight checks (mine were both early, sleepy, and jaundiced — but perfectly healthy). Driving into the center of the city, parallel parking at a meter, and hauling yourself and teeny baby through an enormous hospital, is not really something you want to have to do a few days postpartum 🙂 Nor is visiting the pediatrician every few days for weeks.(That said, it mostly just distracted from the happy sleepy daze we had going on at home).
It is EXHAUSTING. Like, you want to laugh at your college self and friends for thinking they were getting by on “little sleep.” My first was born around the time Marshall and Lily has their baby on How I Met Your Mother, and we *loved* the episode where they hear everything through a fish tank. It’s shockingly accurate. I was tired like I actually walked into the wall and hurt myself and almost the baby tired.
BUT I expected that. I totally expected it. I actually expected to have a lot more trouble nursing than we did. I expected it to be hard and wonderful and it was. I absolutely understand and respect that not everybody has the same experience and/or take on it, but that was mine. It was pretty close to the magazine photos/commercials (except for the unspeakable quantities of bodily fluids, his and mine, all over the place. But I already knew that I never looked like the models on the fashion magazines sans baby, so I didn’t expect to look like a new mother model, either.)
I am wondering, though — how much experience most people have before they have a baby? I can’t remember a time I wasn’t around babies. I helped several people as a “baby maid” when I was a teen, going to their house and running the household for them while they rested, so I was around newborns. I have lots of younger siblings and cousins. So I wonder if that’s why I wasn’t surprised?
I actually feel like there’s a lot of honesty out there. One of the best books I read was “New Mom’s Guide to Your Body After Baby” by Susan Wallace. (Disclaimer: It might be Christian, I don’t remember. If it was, it was pretty mild and marginal.) But it was super honest and realistic and I might have been more surprised if it weren’t for reading that book!
What I do feel like deserves more attention is Post Partum Depression. That is something that I think needs to be checked on more thoroughly. And I think the US healthcare system needs to be way more practical and helpful to post-partum parents. I almost cried watching “Call the Midwife” in the weeks after my second baby, thinking just how heavenly if would be if someone would just come to the house and weigh the baby, instead of making me get 3 people ready to go out, load up the baby and toddler in the car, drive 30 mins, and wrangle both kids in a cold office for up to an hour while I waited for the dr, and then get them back home!
Could this discussion be expanded to include pregnancy? I am currently trying to conceive and feel like the true horrors of pregnancy are being hidden from me until it’s too late to do anything about it. I have asked friends/family who are mothers to fill me in but I don’t seem to get very honest answers. I mostly get “It’s not so bad and you get a baby when you are done!” and “No need to scare yourself, once you are pregnant you’ll find out.”
Maybe they are afraid that if they are honest I will change my mind? I won’t change my mind, but would like some honesty regarding pregnancy.
I have a 10 week old, so while my memory of pregnancy is recent, it’s foggy. But here goes:
People will ask you how the baby is doing. And really, you don’t know. You can’t see it, and every time someone asks it makes you feel powerless. No matter you’re taking your prenatals, exercising, going to your appointments, counting kicks, eating well–there’s only so much you can do to ensure the baby is okay.
Morning sickness is not limited to morning. Some people get hospitalized because of it. Some people, myself included, had to take medication normally given to cancer patients to stop the vomiting. And reflux. It felt for months like was crawling right back up my throat, and it often did. Realizing that was different from morning sickness was enlightening. Having to switch reflux meds every month to find one that still worked was not.
Try to avoid getting sick. Back to back sinus infections. A bladder infection that came on so suddenly I felt fine at 6pm on a Saturday; the following morning at 7am I was in the ER getting IV antibiotics and fluids. Gatorade is your friend.
Getting gestational diabetes. Checking your blood sugar 4 times a day, and having to completely change your diet. Then trying to go out to eat and find something that wouldn’t screw up your glucose levels. Or going to visit family and having to bring your own food for dinner because they just don’t get what a big deal eating white bread is.
Premature labor, and walking on eggshells for weeks after hoping it’s not the real deal so you give your baby more time to “cook” as they say. I fucking hate that term. Then going past your due date and having to get all sorts of tests done to make sure said gestational diabetes isn’t going to cause you to lose the baby. And hoping that it goes away after the baby comes (for me, it did thankfully–but my lifelong risk for type 2 is higher now). Follow that up with getting induced because of preeclampsia at 41 weeks, having the first induction fail, and doing it again the next night–and by some grace of the cosmos it works and I got the pain med free, 6 hour labor I dreamed of.
But with all that, feeling the baby move, hearing her heartbeat, seeing her on the ultrasound and holding her after she was born was so amazing there’s no words to describe it. It was a rough ride (with a brief reprieve in the second trimester) but I wouldn’t change it for the world.
The experience is very different for everyone. Some women embrace the physical changes, others wish they weren’t happening. Some women have x symptom, while others don’t. I think a woman’s attitude to it all is very important in shaping her individual experience.
I hated being pregnant. I really, absolutely hated it. I was nauseous, tired and uncomfortable practically from day 1. I miscarried my first pregnancy so I spent the first four or five months of my second waiting for it to happen again.
You are public property. Your body is not yours any more. Everyone gets in your business all the time. People constantly tell you that you look big/small/tired/ill. They constantly ask you personal questions that no one would ever ask a non pregnant woman. Are you sleeping? Are you eating? Should you be eating that? How much weight have you gained? My mother in law (who is really nice and utterly well meaning) switched from asking me “how are you” to “how are you *feeling*” until I wanted to kill her. Everyone I worked with told me how huge I looked from about week 22. Cheers, guys, that really makes me feel better. You’re not allowed to tell them all to fuck off.
All of your emotions will be dismissed as “pregnancy hormones”. The number of times I wanted to say “I’m not hormonal, you are annoying” was ridiculous.
I didn’t vomit much, but I did feel nauseous every single day for about four months. I went to sleep feeling nauseous and woke up feeling nauseous and while I’m sure vomiting constantly is worse, after a while I was desperate to just actually be sick.
Sleep. You can’t. And everyone will tell you to “sleep while you can”. Again, well meaning, but by the seventh month I was so big and so uncomfortable and so heartburny that I couldn’t sleep anyway, and having people tell me to sleep was just incredibly annoying.
Unsolicited advice. A lot. And in my case, my mother repeatedly telling me how much she loved being pregnant. Because, why didn’t I?
Being afraid all the time. You can’t see the baby, you can’t check it’s ok, so every time you don’t feel it move for a while you panic (if you’re me. YMMV.). You worry about everything you do and eat. You worry about everything the midwives tell you. You spend a lot of time on the “what ifs”.
I could go on with this for a while, regarding all the unexpected symptoms, the sheer epic suckage of labour and delivery, and the total lack of pregnancy “glow” (I delivered at 38 weeks, and I still wonder if I would have started glowing in week 39) but I won’t. What I will say is that my son is nearly four weeks old, and while those weeks have been hard, the sheer relief of not being pregnant any more has made all the difference.
It’s not easy, not always, not for everyone, but for me, it was worth it.
I’m currently 22 weeks pregnant with my first baby, so obviously I can’t tell you about the whole 9 months, but I can tell you right now what it’s been like for me so far.
I’m told that the severity of symptoms can be somewhat (but not completely) predicted by the severity of how you react to your period, how severe your biological mother’s pregnancy symptoms were, and your general state of health going into the pregnancy.
I was irregular, a very light flow when I had my periods, and I had no PMS/cramps/bloating/anything. My mom had super heavy periods and emotional PMS, but she doesn’t recall anything beyond some light nausea from her two pregnancies. I started my pregnancy overweight but otherwise completely healthy, so I do not have to gain a lot of weight. So it shouldn’t be a surprise that my midwife says I’m her luckiest patient.
Pre-pregnancy, I would get cravings. Never for cake or junk food. It was always for healthy things, like cucumbers, broccoli, etc. Pregnancy took my cravings to a whole other level: not only did I get specific cravings, I also got specific avoidance control (my baby does NOT like animal fat, so no bacon, ribeye steaks, chicken thighs, etc.), and portion control (I suddenly got a signal to STOP eating). Honestly, I eat far less while pregnant than pre-pregnancy. So I guess I know why I was overweight despite eating healthily!
In my first trimester, I might have had a mild bout of nausea a little less than about a dozen times total. Usually they were triggered by me trying to eat something I knew the baby didn’t want – like a bite of a steak, or when I was feeling super tired (which is a normal trigger for me to feel nauseous so I don’t even know if that was pregnancy related). Cabbage kimchi was an instant nausea cure for me. If I couldn’t get kimchi, then anything ginger, peppermint, or cinnamon flavored would help. I never threw up.
The first month or so, my nipples were sore. Then they were fine. I used to sleep through the night, but I had to get up to pee a few times every night. That continued into my fourth month. Tags in my clothes started bothering me, so I had to cut them out. My husband started nesting (and is continuing to do so).
In either my second or third month, the prenatal vitamins started giving me horrible stomaches. My midwife doesn’t actually recommend prenatal vitamins – she prefers that we get all our vitamins through food. I know my body doesn’t process B12 from food and was worried about other vitamins. So I switched to what I was doing pre-pregnancy that worked. Liquid folic acid, chewable B12, and regular adult gummy vitamins.
About three months in, my jeans were too tight and I had to get maternity jeans.
My thyroid tests came out borderline for needing medication. My thyroid was struggling to keep up with the extra demand. My doctor told me to eat more (iodized) salt and low-mercury seafood. I also stopped eat raw leafy greens, besides lettuce, to avoid goitrogens. The next blood test was good.
At four months, I had to change my sleeping position. I was a stomach sleeper but it was too uncomfortable. I started sleeping on my side (with a body pillow and a side sleeping pillow) and developed a horrible pain from my left hand all the way up to my shoulder. Because there was no numbness or tingles, and working at my computer 8 hours at work had no effect on the pain, it took me a few days to realize it was carpal tunnel. If you include the word “pregnant” in your google search, you will receive no results on sleeping being the cause. Take out the word “pregnant,” and it turns out that there was a study that showed women (not men) are more likely to have carpal tunnel if they sleep on their sides. I went down to Walgreens and bought a wrist splint. I wore it for a few hours for a few days while sleeping to train my wrist. After that, I haven’t had any more problems with carpal tunnel.
Also in my fourth month, I had to box up about 3/4 of my wardrobe and start buying new clothes. I’m following recommendations I’ve seen online to only buy a few pieces a month.
In my fourth and fifth (current) months, I’ve had some off and on pain in my left hip. I’m trying to find time to do some exercises that should help. The pain isn’t too bad, I just want to take care of it before it becomes more of a problem. I’ve also become more prone to acid reflux, but eating alkalizing foods fix that pretty quickly.
In my fifth and current month, I’m finally finding a little relief from the exhaustion. Part of it probably is because my schedule doesn’t allow me to sleep more than 6 hours on work nights, so I find myself taking lots of naps pregnant. It may be better for someone who has more time at night for sleeping. My belly is taking off and the only pre-pregnancy pants I can keep wearing now are my yoga pants. I finally gained my first pound. I can also feel the baby! I thought it would totally freak me out, but it’s actually really neat and makes me laugh sometimes.
Other than the monthly breakdowns, I’ve also had to deal with eczema flare ups. I ordered organic aloe vera from Amazon (it’s like 99% pure), and that’s been keeping it under control enough I haven’t had to use my prescription lotions. I also clearly have a weakened immune system because I’ve gotten some kind of cold like virus twice now since becoming pregnant, and both lasted over a week. Pre-pregnancy I would only get sick maybe once every two years and get over it in a couple of days.
If you want to know about symptoms you could get, you can go through week by week on Baby Center and look under Body Changes. http://www.babycenter.com/6_your-pregnancy-22-weeks_1111.bc
I just had a baby. He’s now 13 days old. I can honestly say I never sat & deliberated all the pros and cons of having children; we just knew we wanted them. That said, I was not at all pprepared for the struggle that breastfeeding has been so far. When I was pregnant everyone went on about sleepless nights, dirty diapers, never having another minute alone with my husband, etc… nobody mentioned that feeding problems would leave me sore and bleeding and feeling guilty about giving my kid some formula just so he could eat. The sleepless nights are nothing compared to this feeling of failure and despondency
I know it’s really hard the first year of having a baby and I know it’s all worth it when you get through that time. But it seems that it is not allowed for me to choose not to want that tough year. No, when I don’t get kids I’ll end up alone later on, my life won’t be complete. It’s heavy, kudos to you if you want it, but don’t look at me funny because I think it’s a big decision that you shouldn’t take lightly and that also means that some people choose not to want that.
The mothers who are having troubles maintaining the “everything is okay” image, are yelling the loudest that everyone should start on kids. Because it is not done to feel overwhelmed by your own creations. There is good reason for that: Kids who feel like their parents have regrets usually don’t end up very well. So, in the end. Yes, we should prepare new parents for what it to come. But not at the cost of the psyches of the kids that are already there.
I had a friend tell me when I was preggo that despite the fact that I was one of the kindest, happiest, most generous people she know, that I was going to turn into an awful person once I had my baby. That I was going to become mean and selfish, that I was going to treat other mothers terribly, that I was going to be petty and horrible to other people because I’d want *my* daughter to be first/better/whathaveyou. I cried for about an hour when she left my house. I didn’t want to be that person – that I realized *she* was (she told me stories about things she did to other mother’s things, like leaving another person’s stroller with all their things in it in the pouring rain because she blocked HER stroller with it. In a stroller bank. Where everyone’s stroller is blocking everyone else’s.) It was awful.
And then, I didn’t turn into that person. I did the opposite. I totally get why other parents stand in the middle of the aisle at the store, totally oblivious. I totally get why parents are always apologizing when they realized they’ve spaced on what they’re doing. I *get* it, and I don’t hate them, and I don’t want to do mean things to them. Instead I want to sit and have a laugh with all of them. I do run into a few ‘grumpy’ moms, who *did* turn into that kind of person (they seem to think me smiling and saying hi at a class or storytime means they have to glare at me and say nothing), but I shrug them off and focus on more fun people.
All the other stuff…yeah it can suck. It *is* exhausting. It totally changes your life – I can’t remember the lat time my husband and I got to go out to a movie. You have to account for friends who are kid-phobic (really). In our group of friends, half the couples aren’t having any – which is fine, but it means they don’t remember that we *do* have one, so they are always planning things for everyone – and then half of us can’t go because it’s not something kids can really do easily, or it’s super expensive, or something like that (y’know, like go to a bar. Or a theme park.). I used to drink a lot, now I hardly ever do. My sleep schedule has completely changed. A year later I *still* don’t fit into most of my old clothes – mostly because I’m shaped differently now.
But I stay flexible. Not everything is going to go as planned, and that’s okay. I let myself change and adapt. Temper tantrums happen. Kids fall and bump their heads. Kids have days where all they need is your attention all the time and you won’t get anything else done that day. My daughter developed eczema – that throws in another routine, another thing to think about. But it’s all OKAY. There’s so much I love about her that the stressful tiresome stuff is totally okay. And it does become routine.
I had pretty much NO experience with kids, other than with my little brother and sister years ago. I knew I wanted them, but they kind of terrified me. But once I had my daughter, I was amazed at the stuff I just *did*, like it was old hat to me. I never took classes or anything, I did some internet reading, but that was about it. Apparently I just have one heck of a mothering instinct. Even my own mother was amazed.
And to make a long post even longer…pregnancy sucked ass. I had severe back pain, gestational diabetes, several UTI’s, some pretty hefty nausea for the first three months, extreme changes in how some foods tasted, and some serious moodiness. I didn’t feel like I was glowing, she got her foot stuck under my ribs all the time so I couldn’t sit back up again if I was lying down, I had to go on a special diet, I couldn’t do anything around the house (despite trying because I had super messy roommates at the time who would do things like leave broken GLASS on the floor), had super sensitive smelling, and I cried at everything. EVERYTHING.
But it was all totally worth it, and I can’t wait to do it again.
I am currently 6 weeks pregnant. And honestly I’m terrified. I wanted this, we both did, I know that I have always wanted a family. But still, the idea of actually being a parent is terrifying. I am already mourning pre-baby life and worried we will lose ourselves and not be ‘us’ anymore. I know really that the definition of ‘us’ will just be changing and we will adapt.
I have little experience with small babies beyond the odd feed. I have never changed one (by choice – I’m stubborn and refused when pushed by my niece’s parents). My BF has helped babysit his nephews since he was 15 and is a natural with them. I have no idea what I am doing or how hard it will be… but I’m comforted by knowing that every person, no matter how well read or advised they are, are basically winging it.
Oh Lord… We have 6 week old twins and we were so not prepared for a number of things that have gone down since that positive EPT.
To start with, we weren’t prepared for twins…..
We weren’t prepared for a 10 day hospital stay after their birth. I feel like I was broken in hard early on because I had to learn to be a mom with my babies hooked up to a zillion wires. Diaper changes, feeding, figuring out why they were crying…. all while trying to keep that damn heart monitor on them and the pulse ox on their feet, never mind trying to make sure the feeding tube stayed down.
My husband was already back at work by the time they came home. I have been taking care of two and the house by my self ever since.
I have a love hate relationship with breastfeeding. I am having to pump and supplement.
They eat every three-four hours and you may think that is a long time and enough time to get something, ANYTHING, done but alas I have learned the hard way just how short that amount of time can be. Its even shorter when you are trying to get any amount of sleep that is decent.
I have woken up so sleepy I couldn’t see straight while I have two babies crying because they think they are starving to death and OMG WHY WONT MOM FEED ME. I have walked into doors, tripped over things, fell while holding one of them and hurt my back.
I have fallen asleep sitting cross legged in the floor while holding bottles in their mouths.
I have at one point been pretty sure they were each possessed by the devil himself.
Constipation, spit up, explosive poops, pacifiers EVERYWHERE and then suddenly you can’t find a damn one, praying they sleep just one more hour….
No one is prepared for babies when they bring them home. You learn to adapt and try to handle it gracefully for your own sake and thats all you can do.
To hell with what strangers think.
PS
Twin Comments from Strangers
“Are they twins??!!”
“OMG Theres two!!”
“I bet you have your hands full.”
“Better you than me.”
To which I lovingly say “Piss off”
Half my friends seem to be going the opposite direction and telling me every horror story they can think of. Anything and everything from childbirth to sleeplessness to breastfeeding to SIDS has been discussed in horrifying detail over the past 20-ish weeks of my pregnancy (I’m 24 1/2 weeks with my first and probably only at the moment). Most of the time I didn’t even go looking for advice. They just offered it up without prompting. So I’m at the point now where some one like my mom will ask me if I’m getting excited and I’m just like “N-not really…”