You Don’t Have to Adore Infants to Be a Great Mother

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During a meeting with my colleagues in the English department, I made a bold declaration: “Seniors are my limit. I can’t handle anyone younger.” It was late afternoon in spring, with the sounds of baseball practice echoing in the background. As I stood, I could catch glimpses of the manicured lawn and the diamond-shaped practice fields dusted with red dirt.

This time of year brings a wave of new energy as the school year dwindles. Students start to mentally check out, while teachers begin to anticipate the next year — planning classes, clubs, and schedules. “I refuse to return to teaching freshmen,” I reiterated, making my case clear.

Having spent years teaching 15-year-olds still navigating the tumult of adolescence, I craved a more stable environment. I needed a class where at least half the students could maintain their composure when the nurse in “Romeo and Juliet” referenced her “maidenhead.” I wanted an older, more mature group.

And then, unexpectedly, I found out I was pregnant. My experience with babies was practically nonexistent. I was the youngest in my family, and my only exposure to children had been through reading the Baby-Sitters Club series.

My husband was equally unprepared. By the time we arrived at social events, most of our friends had already become parents, leaving us feeling like complete novices when it came to handling their little ones. We were all elbows, awkwardly trying to feed applesauce, unable to decode the baby sign language for “more” or “all done.” What even was a sippy cup, and why was this toddler always asking for one? No one ever asked us to babysit.

Desperately wanting children by the time we got pregnant didn’t mean we had any grasp of the reality ahead. Just as a child might beg for a puppy without understanding the responsibilities that come with it, we had a naive vision of parenting. We pictured a generic, sweet-smelling baby, only to end up welcoming our son prematurely — a whirlwind we weren’t ready for.

Let’s face it: is anyone truly prepared for their first child? Explaining sleep deprivation to someone who hasn’t experienced it is akin to trying to describe the color orange to someone who’s never seen it.

Here’s the truth: I never had that magical moment some parents describe—where everything aligns, music plays, and life feels complete. My son’s birth was a whirlwind, filled with complications, leaving me with only a quick kiss on his damp head before he was whisked away to the NICU.

Weeks passed before I could do more than gently touch him, surrounded by wires and beeping machines. I was terrified—terrified of being a mother, terrified that those machines were better caretakers than I could ever be.

Infancy was a challenge, filled with the kinds of horror stories mothers often promise they won’t tell. My son was medically fragile, and while my fear eventually transformed into competence, it rarely felt joyful.

Then, time worked its magic. We transitioned from weeks to months to years, and before I knew it, I found my rhythm—a comfortable groove that felt just right.

Now, I no longer teach high school students. Instead, I educate my three young children, who are still at an age where their fingers can count their years. I teach them letters, numbers, and the importance of saying “sorry” sincerely. I traded Shakespeare for Llama Llama, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I cherish my kids, loving every quirk and peculiarity they bring to our lives.

But here’s the kicker: I still don’t particularly like babies. You wouldn’t be able to convince me to relive those early days. Some people thrive in the presence of infants, adoring the tiny outfits and the bond created by baby carriers. That’s just not me. I’m grateful to have moved past that phase.

It’s essential to recognize that you won’t love every moment of this journey. Disliking the early stages of parenthood doesn’t mean you won’t find joy in later phases (well, maybe not during puberty). It’s acceptable to express your feelings to your partner during discussions about parenting strategies. Planning for survival is crucial; understanding that this challenging stage is temporary can provide comfort. You don’t have to adore infants to be a wonderful mother.

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In summary, becoming a mother isn’t about adoring every stage of the journey. It’s about growing, learning, and finding your way through the challenges. Your love can flourish in the later years, even if the baby phase isn’t your favorite.