As I enjoyed a well-deserved drink while my little one finally drifted off to sleep, a wave of reflection washed over me. To all the seasoned moms out there, I owe you a big apology. After a couple of years of parenting, I finally grasp what you were quietly chuckling about when I thought I had it all figured out. I now see how utterly clueless I was, and honestly, it’s a bit embarrassing.
I was that enthusiastic new mom, spending nine months transforming myself into a self-proclaimed parenting guru through endless online searches and parenting books. I thought I had it all down—pregnancy, childbirth, breastfeeding, sleep training, you name it. I figured my extensive research made me more qualified than the wisdom you gained from actual experience.
Looking back, I realize how obnoxious I was, and I’m truly sorry for it. I was just so eager to do this right! Thank you for your patience and for not giving me a swift reality check when I needed it most.
I apologize for the daggers I shot your way when you gently suggested that breastfeeding might not be my path and that everything would turn out fine. I regret dismissing your advice on unswaddling my baby to help her sleep. I’m sorry for insisting that you show my newborn art flashcards when she was too young to even notice them. I regret hiding that adorable cartoon onesie you gifted her, convinced I’d never let her wear anything like that in public.
I’m sorry for freaking out when you offered my baby a taste of table food just a week before the doctor’s green light for solids. I was indignant when you handed her a cheese curl. I shut down your advice throughout that first year simply because it didn’t align with what I had “read.” I remember saying, “That’s not how it’s done anymore,” whatever “that” even meant.
From day one, I was adamant about doing everything the “right” way. I envisioned my birth going smoothly, breastfeeding without a hitch, and my baby sleeping peacefully swaddled in her own bed, while I raised the most brilliant, polite, and emotionally balanced child in history. Junk food and character t-shirts? Not on my watch! I thought she’d always say “please” and “thank you.”
But reality had other plans. I ended up needing a C-section, my baby struggled to latch, so I pumped and bottle-fed for a year, supplementing with formula. She despised being swaddled despite my numerous purchases. Our learning tools evolved to include blocks and, gasp, Barbie dolls. She loves potato chips and sugary cereal when she can snag them. “Please” and “thank you” are not always in her vocabulary, and she has perfected the art of dramatic meltdowns. My house is often a mess, and I am perpetually exhausted.
You’ll be relieved to know that this morning, I sent her off to daycare in a Minnie Mouse t-shirt and matching tutu because, well, it was on sale and she adores it. Her hair was a tangled mess, and I rushed out the door without finding the brush. And yes, there was snot smeared across her face, and I didn’t have time to clean it.
Motherhood is nothing like I envisioned, but I’ve found my groove. I’ve come to terms with my imperfections; I make mistakes constantly. I strive to do my best, but now I approach it with a sense of realism and ease. I’ve learned that I don’t have all the answers, and I genuinely appreciate your insights and support more than ever.
So, thank you. Thank you for your patience. Thank you for listening. Thank you for allowing me to learn on my own. If you’re navigating similar waters, you can check out this post on how to reach out for support here. And for those on the journey of starting a family, visit Make a Mom for expert insights. Also, if you’re curious about IVF, Healthline has some great information here.
Summary:
This heartfelt apology from a former know-it-all new mom reflects on the journey of motherhood and the lessons learned along the way. The author expresses gratitude to seasoned moms for their patience and support while recognizing the challenges and realities of parenting that differ from initial expectations.