Your cart is currently empty!
Mommy Bloggers Give Me the Jitters
You know what gives me the jitters? Mommy bloggers. As a public relations specialist, I encounter these blogs regularly. I can rattle off the names and ages of children I’ve never met, and I know which trendy baby moccasins are a must-have for tiny feet that are always kicking them off. I’ve even learned how to whip up DIY bow ties for adorable little boys, despite having no cute little boy necks of my own. And sure, I could tell you how to dress like a supermodel right after giving birth if that info ever comes in handy.
But it’s not their impressive domestic skills that send me into a tailspin. It’s the sheer depth of love these bloggers seem to have for their kids. They adore their little ones so much that they feel compelled to document every tiny milestone, sharing it with the world through posts and tweets.
Here’s the thing: I’m currently pregnant, and I already feel a strong connection to my baby. I light up with each kick and ponder what her personality will be like. But I don’t exactly feel like dancing through fields singing to the universe, Sound of Music style, while posting weekly baby bump pics. I’m more inclined to binge-watch Netflix, munch on cookies, and stress over the never-ending to-do list I need to tackle before this little human arrives. And I can’t help but feel a bit inadequate compared to these blogging powerhouses of maternal love.
RELATED: What Is A “Type A” Personality And How Do You Handle One?
As I navigate this pregnancy, one question looms large: Once my baby is born, will I turn into a mommy blogger too? I mean, I write for a living. Will my love for this little one become all-consuming, prompting me to share every cute moment, like that time we went to the zoo with an amazing coupon I found? (And yes, you can get that coupon if you follow these 17 simple steps.) Will I flood Instagram with her adorable poses and flower crowns, making others feel like their lives aren’t as cute or fun as mine? (Seriously, can we agree to ease up on the flower crowns and those staged but “not staged” photos?)
What kind of love drives people to do all this? I’ve never known it, and I’m scared that I’m about to. I love my husband deeply, but I don’t spend my days making cute hair clips for him or photographing his antics. And while I adore my dog, I don’t stick a sticker on his back every month and write about his favorite pastime of licking himself and gnawing on the same tennis ball. Baby love will surely be different—it’ll be new and likely stronger than anything I’ve felt before. And that thought is a little terrifying.
I think my therapist would say my fear stems from understanding that such intense love comes with the risk of loss. She’d probably also tell me to chill out. Babies, like everything else in life, are uncertain. There are no guarantees my child will be healthy, happy, and live to a ripe old age. Love is always a gamble, but parenthood amplifies that risk. I struggle to fathom how one can love someone so profoundly while also facing the potential of losing them. It’s a daunting concept, and I know other moms manage it, but I’m not quite there yet. Loving someone that fiercely scares me—I just had to say it.
I also wonder when this overwhelming love will kick in. I already care for my daughter, but will it transform when she’s finally in my arms? Will I feel an avalanche of joy when she smiles at me for the first time? Right now, I’m just staring at my bloated belly while munching on chips, and I don’t feel those intense motherly vibes yet. Is this normal? Is anything during pregnancy normal? Am I a bad mom for voicing these concerns? The questions seem infinite.
But isn’t that what pregnancy is all about? A barrage of questions with few answers. Doctors don’t even fully grasp what’s happening in my uterus—what even is a uterus?! And don’t even get me started on Google, which can convince you in a single search that you’re developing pregnancy-induced cancer and growing a three-headed monster child based on nipple color.
Eventually, I’ll need to embrace the unknown—the chaotic feeling of relinquishing control. I know I’ll have to trust in God, even if it’s tough. I’ll have to accept that this pregnancy is real, that I’m already a mom, and that I’m on the brink of experiencing a love I’ve never known. Somehow, everything will be okay. In fact, it’s likely to be amazing. I’ll still be myself, just with a new, adorable sidekick to share this journey—whether I decide to blog about it or not. Right? Right? Maybe I should check out some mommy blogs for a bit of guidance.
In case you want to dive deeper into this journey, check out this excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary: In this humorous and relatable piece, Jamie Lark shares her mixed feelings about becoming a mother and the intimidating world of mommy bloggers. Despite her fears, she acknowledges the love she’ll eventually feel for her child while navigating the uncertainties of pregnancy.