Earlier tonight I was devouring the Mom Blog, the one you and I are both addicted to, and I came across a post that was making fun of you in a back-handed way.
It was asking for genius moms, you know, those of us who have had more than one, to post the things that silly-old-us used to do back when we were stupid, naive first-time moms.
I admit, the first thoughts that went through my head were my blunt answers. I did wake up my baby if I wasn't sure he was breathing. I did use three washcloths per bath. But then, I thought, even now I sneak in to check if my baby is breathing. And I still use two washcloths.
Then I thought, why do I think I have the right to answer a question like this? I've birthed three children, but I've only had the chance to raise two of them. And really, I'm only twenty blurry, messy, short months into this out-of-the-womb motherhood gig.
I can't imagine that what you need right now is another reason to feel insecure. So don't listen to the Mom Blog. Don't listen to me either. But if you're interested, here's what I'd like to say:
Before I begin, I don't want to discredit the very necessary, sought-after, loving, spot on wisdom of been there, done that moms. Learning the ropes is not possible without them. That said, I go on...
Being a first-time mom is like being a freshman. You're growing into your new, awkward body. You're walking down dizzying halls you've never been down, and learning about subjects you never knew existed. There's this mystique that hovers like a halo over those of us, the upperclassmen, who can open the combination locks of motherhood with seemingly great ease.
So the upperclassmen poke fun and shame you because it seems like you're lesser. But we all know there are freshmen with more maturity and brains than seniors. I'm walking the same halls, studying the same subjects. There's a false caste system related to the number of children one has that we'd all be better without.
For all moms, being around other moms reduces us to catty girls in the locker room. We all feel insecure. We all see something in another mom that we wish we could be, but we, most definitely, are not.
We're all dreaming at night, of course, not actual dreams because to dream is to sleep, but we're doing the kind of dreaming one does of the future.
We're all packing diaper bags and unpacking advice.
We're all playing a game of close observation and cry assessment.
We're all making mistakes and we're struggling to forgive ourselves.
The truth is that being a mother is all in or all out. You are or you aren't. There's no distinction, no hierarchy.
And for the record, there are things that you do particularly well, First-time Mom. Your child is probably cleaner and safer than both of mine combined. Your connection with your child is undivided, attentive, and unique. You're up-to-date on the latest research, making informed decisions. You can quickly recall what year your child was born. You're not scrolling through Pinterest during feedings; you're helping your baby stay in the perfect feeding position and you're looking into his eyes. You're spending more time than me in prayer, asking God for guidance. Milestones and memories are not lost on you. You're carefully unwrapping each moment as the gift that it is. Kudos to you for that.
Here we are back in the locker room and now I'm envying you.
What makes us different: I can change a crib sheet faster than you.
What makes us the same: We know what it is to love someone more than ourselves.
It hardly seems that our differences are worth blogging about when our similarities are the reasons we both get up in the middle of the night, we both fall to our knees in thanksgiving, we both are the richest women in the world.
So uncork the Tervis, Mommy, and celebrate the awesome gift you are to your child. We're in this together and I'm proud to do this job alongside a Mom like you.
With admiration,
A Third-time Mom