The past almost four months have felt like a blur. It feels like we were just in the hospital with our little 5 lb. 11 oz. miracle who I was totally convinced I was going to break just by holding her. And between the constant cycle of feeding and changing and rocking and doing another load of baby laundry, it seems like there’s honestly been very little time to process. And I’m definitely a processor.
Being Millie’s mom has been the hardest and the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. And I’m starting to understand more and more how those two things are not mutually exclusive. I’m living proof that the clichés of new parenthood are true, more often than not. I’m exhausted and elated. Overwhelmed and overjoyed.
So in trying to reflect upon the past few months, these are the five ideas that keep rolling around in my distracted and sleep-deprived brain:
- Mindset has been key.
I’ve told myself from the day that Millie was born that my primary responsibility is to take care of the little human. I’ve repeated this to myself multiple times a day. I don’t think I’m alone when I say that it’s so tempting to put pressure on ourselves as new moms to do all the things. But, my word, you’ve just gone through one of the biggest transitions of your entire life. So put first things first.
Your responsibility is to take care of the little human.
Not to clean your house.
Not to make dinner.
Not to entertain the people who were kind enough to bring you dinner. (!!!)
Not to lose your baby weight.
Not to jump into a new fitness program.
Not to read all the parenting books and blogs.
Not to “maximize your maternity leave” by turning a hobby into a side hustle.
And maybe you did do some or all of those things. I didn’t, and keeping it ridiculously simple was what I needed. For some reason, I thought that by time Millie was a month old, I’d automatically have the capacity to do everything that I used to do. Not so. I’m finding that I’m starting to pick up other responsibilities, but it’s come slower that I’ve expected. I still rely on my husband, my parents, and my close friends for A LOT. Asking for help is humbling and hard, but it’s easier when you remind yourself of that primary responsibility. Today, take care of the little human. Everything else is secondary.
2. Not being a “baby person” has not automatically equaled hating the baby stage.
I have a mother who is the actual epitome of a “baby person.” If there’s a tiny human in the room, my mom wants to hold him. Me? I could take him or leave him, and frankly, would probably rather leave him. It was getting to the point that when I announced I was pregnant, anyone who knew my mom had the response of “Oh my goodness, I bet your mom is SO excited!” I was actually starting to get worried. Am I going to have to simply tolerate the baby stage? Maybe I’ll be a good mom once she hits, like, kindergarten, but I’m not sure about this first part.
Once again with the clichés, but the fact that she’s my baby has made all the difference in the world. I’m obsessed. I’m giddy thinking about her smiles, her little baby sneezes, and her thigh rolls. And I’m still so excited for the future, but time could freeze for a while and I’d be perfectly content. I love this time with my baby girl.
3. Huggies has my business for the rest of my life.
I’ll say it. I’m not afraid. #1 Pediatrician recommended Pampers? Trash. Trash, I tell you. I’ve lost count of how many leaks we’ve had with Pampers. Huggies keeps the biggest blowouts contained. And as much as I think I should caveat and say that maybe Huggies works better for Millie’s little body shape, I won’t. Buy the Huggies, already. Postpartum hormones got me passionate about this one.
4. Love is inefficient.
Millie’s not in a hurry to do ANYTHING. She eats at a snail’s pace. She fights sleep like it’s her job and often I’ll drift off to sleep rocking her before she does. She doesn’t seem interested in rolling, even though I’m told that’s where she should be developmentally. Now give this baby to someone who values efficiency and watch chaos ensue.
Yes, I’ve had to learn to dethrone my heart’s idol of productivity. And I’ve let frustration win over patience so many times. But I’m learning that love is usually not efficient. Caring for someone means pausing the work on the to-do list. Relationships are inherently unproductive, and we invest in them anyway. So I’ll soak up the long feedings and rocking sessions for everything they’re worth because I love this little one, and for now, we can do things on her timetable. Which actually leads to my last point…
Relationships are inherently unproductive, and we invest in them anyway.
5. God’s heart toward us must be so, so tender.
One of the last books I read before I had Millie was Dane Ortlund’s Gentle and Lowly. I didn’t know it at the time, but this is probably one of the best things I could have done to prepare for parenthood. I was brought to tears as I was reminded of how compassionate the heart of God is for His children.
I don’t know any other word to describe it besides tenderness. Having Millie has brought out a tenderness in me that I’ve never felt before. There are nights that I hold her and my eyes flood with tears because I love her so much. And in those moments, I’m overwhelmed with the reality that I’m probably just getting the smallest taste of how our Heavenly Father feels about us. Those emotional moments in the nursery have led me to worship, and I’m forever grateful for them.
Alright other new mamas, did any of this hit home? What has the Lord been teaching you? I’d love to hear! (Also, buy the Huggies. Ok, I’m done.)
Cultivate. 