Parenting
After the arrival of my first child, I was eager to reclaim my former self. Unfamiliar with the journey of new motherhood, I felt an urgent need to revert to “normal”—whatever that looks like—before I even knew what it entailed.
It didn’t take long for me to realize that returning to my old self would take much longer than I anticipated, if it ever happened at all. Yet, I was determined to feel somewhat human again. So, I squeezed into my jeans, albeit uncomfortably, showered (almost) daily, applied makeup, and even hosted guests. Whenever my baby dozed off, I sat at the table writing thank-you notes for every present we received. By the time I finished a few cards, my baby would wake from his 23-minute nap, and I’d be back to the relentless cycle of caring for a newborn.
Frustrated but resolute, I painstakingly wrote those thank-you notes, trying to regain a sense of normalcy, competence, and control over my life. I even found myself wishing I hadn’t received gifts at all—an absurd thought given my genuine gratitude for each one—just to escape the obligation of writing notes. The pressure to send them in a timely manner loomed large, and I feared being seen as rude or incapable of managing the demands of new motherhood and basic etiquette.
Eventually, I completed the thank-you notes and made a vow: every baby gift I give from that point on would come with an explicit exemption from the thank-you note obligation. Now, when I send a baby gift, I include a note asking the new mom not to feel pressured to send a thank-you card.
Some new moms happily accept this request, while others adhere to traditional etiquette and send handwritten notes. This has led me to believe that perhaps we need a universal “New Mom Freedom Card.” Here’s what it might look like: