A New Mom’s Life, Minute-By-Minute

home insemination Kit

One thousand, four hundred and forty minutes make up a day, and as a new mom, it feels like I’m awake for nearly all of them. Oh, you’re up again, sweet pea? But it’s only 5:30 in the morning! I could’ve sworn we just did this two hours ago. Mornings used to be a battle between sleeping in and fitting in a workout, but a hungry baby has no snooze button. I’m running on fumes; the minutes blur together in a haze of exhaustion, occasionally brightened by a cup of coffee.

One thousand, four hundred and forty minutes, and another day has gone by where it feels like I’ve accomplished absolutely nothing. How did the house get so messy again? Didn’t I just tidy up yesterday? How can one tiny human who can’t even crawl create so much chaos? More laundry? Life has become a repetitive cycle: baby sleeps, baby eats, mom tries to catch a wink, maybe has time to eat, and then attempts to tidy up while the baby naps. Chores used to fit seamlessly into my routine before work or during lunch breaks. Now, laundry feels like an Everest-sized task that consumes an entire day.

One thousand, four hundred and forty minutes in a day, and I don’t even remember the last time I had a shower. Seriously, when was that? Remember when I started the day with a fresh blowout, a cute outfit, and makeup? Nowadays, I’m just grateful if I manage to change out of my pajamas and brush my teeth. Do I even own anything other than yoga pants? I can’t recall the last time I wore something that had a zipper!

One thousand, four hundred and forty minutes, and if I were to judge my day based on what I’ve accomplished, it would feel entirely pointless. When my partner arrives home from work and asks, “What did you do today?” it’s tough to explain how the hours slipped away. Between feeding the baby, soothing cries, and trying to keep my living space from looking like a scene from Hoarders, I’ve been busy all day—yet nothing feels quantifiable. I haven’t completed a significant work project, made strides toward any personal goals, and if I were to gauge my productivity by how tidy the house is, I’d have to say I’ve done nothing, only to repeat it all again tomorrow.

One thousand, four hundred and forty minutes in a day: no shower, more laundry, and the mess just keeps piling up. But I remind myself daily that these moments are ones I’ll look back on with longing in the years to come. Here I am, writing while my one-month-old son sleeps on my chest. When did that happen? I blinked, and a month flew by. If only the last month of my pregnancy had passed so quickly! Amid sleepless nights and countless diaper changes, the early weeks of motherhood zoom by, and I’m just trying to navigate it all.

The rhythm of these repetitive days, yet swift weeks, creates a whirlwind of emotions. I’ve never felt this much love and joy, yet I also feel a bit trapped within my home, mildly resentful that my partner gets to leave for work. I find myself feeling simultaneously sad that my maternity leave is slipping away and overwhelmed with the realization that soon I’ll have to leave my little one to return to work. It feels crazy to experience all these emotions at once.

But I do feel all of these feelings as I work to stay present and cherish these fleeting moments. Because it won’t always be like this. Someday, my baby won’t cry at 2 a.m. He won’t need me to hold him to drift off to sleep. The moments I get to cradle him will become fewer and farther between. It’s hard to remind myself how quickly infants grow into toddlers when I’m in the thick of it, because although there are parts of caring for an infant that make me grateful it’s just a phase, there are also parts I know I’ll miss dearly.

There are only one thousand, four hundred and forty minutes in a day, and I can’t measure their worth by how long it’s been since I left the house, how large the laundry pile is, or what accomplishments I’ve logged. Those minutes are counted in snuggles and smiles, because they pass too quickly. Despite the exhaustion, the chaos, and the crying, I’m grateful to be on this journey.