When it comes to the infant stage, specifically ages 0-12 months, I have to admit, it’s not my cup of tea. Before I became a parent, I had a strong aversion to babies—and honestly, that feeling hasn’t completely vanished. When someone handed me a baby, I’d freeze, arms outstretched like a zombie, as if I were about to hold the most repulsive creature on the planet. I would break into a sweat, my stomach churning.
After my first child was born, I experienced a brief honeymoon phase of about two weeks where I didn’t have any strong reactions to her infant ways. I was riding the wave of new mommy hormones, adrenaline, and a bit of fear. But then reality set in. The visitors dwindled, my husband returned to work, and it was just me and this tiny human.
Suddenly, my happy, high-flying hormones plummeted. I was drowning in diaper changes, feeling like a milk factory (albeit one that couldn’t quite meet demand), and dealing with the odor of formula that reminded me of dog food. My laundry pile of dirty onesies seemed to reach for the sky, and I was left with a crying baby and no clue why. My thoughts spiraled—“I’m so bored. I feel trapped. I’m utterly exhausted. When will this child nap? When is bedtime?”
I’ve always envied the mothers who claim they fell head over heels for their babies at first sight. That picture-perfect bond is glorified in commercials, billboards, and parenting books. Meanwhile, I’m here confessing that I don’t feel that overwhelming love. It feels like a taboo admission.
Sure, I love my daughter and wouldn’t trade her for anything, but let me explain why I struggle with the baby phase:
- Breastfeeding is a challenge. Leaky, chafed, and engorged—need I elaborate?
- Projectile poop is a real thing. No one warned me about this phenomenon.
- Sleep? Forget it. If they do sleep, it’s at the most inconvenient times. My daughter would nap for five glorious hours in the afternoon but only allow me two hours of sleep at night. When I tried to fix her schedule, it only made things worse.
- They’re so fragile. I constantly feared I would accidentally hurt my daughter just by holding her incorrectly.
- Communication is nonexistent. Every cry is a mystery that requires investigation, leading me to try diaper changes, feeding, swaddling, and more until I figured out what she wanted.
- Their moments of cuteness are fleeting. They might be adorable for a few seconds, but then they revert to being hungry, tired, or fussy.
- Let’s be honest—most babies look like aliens. Mine certainly did.
- Crying in public places is a nightmare. I’d rather eat a bowl of Cheerios at home than subject myself to a restaurant with a baby. Planes? Don’t even get me started; I’ve been on both sides of that struggle.
- Car seats are a puzzle. They’re complicated to install and adjust, and once the baby is in, they usually scream.
- Strangers love to touch babies. Which means they feel entitled to chat with me at the most inconvenient times. I’m not a fan of random people swooping in to coo over my child.
So there you have it—my honest take on babies. What’s to love? If you’re curious about more parenting insights, check out this helpful post about home insemination. And for authoritative information on the subject, visit Make A Mom and ASRM, which offers valuable resources for anyone navigating pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary:
In this candid piece, Emily Johnson shares her struggles with the baby stage, expressing that she doesn’t resonate with the typical joyful experiences associated with new motherhood. From the challenges of breastfeeding to the complexities of communication with infants, she outlines her frustrations while still emphasizing her love for her daughter. Despite the overwhelming societal narratives celebrating motherhood, Emily’s experience is refreshingly honest and relatable.