To the New Mom in the Church Nursery

We bonded over babies and birth stories. After sharing the details of your complications during pregnancy, your daughter’s early induction, and her ten-day NICU stay, you said, “How do people have more than one kid?!”

I told you that I used to ask that question, too, and that I still ask and wonder how people have four or six or ten. But I also said, “It’s like anything else you learn. It’s hard, and you struggle, and you make mistakes, but you keep learning and trying, and pretty soon the new skill becomes second nature and you add another skill. Then you add another baby, and it’s hard again, but after time and practice, it’s easier.”

After a mere four years into motherhood, I’m already beginning to feel like a seasoned veteran. Until my oldest finds a new way to push and challenge me when he is learning new skills, that is. Then I am a fresh foal on wobbly legs trying to find my next step and solid footing. Every time I meet a new mom, though, I want to give her a hug and talk for at least a couple of hours so that I can encourage her and tell her what a great job she is doing. Since meeting the New Mom in the church nursery, I’ve spent hours mulling the question, What do I wish I had known? What do I wish someone had told me?

You’re doing an amazing job.

The nights and days are both long and short, full of joy and anxiety. Find a good audiobook and a tv show to make you laugh. Invest in a pair of wireless headphones or earbuds. Your mind will stay busy even if you get stuck in the rocking chair for hours, and you won’t have to worry about baby’s flailing arms ripping the cord out of your headphone jack.

I promise your house will be clean again someday. Your laundry won’t always sit around you in piles. Your meals will consist of more than one dish again. You will feel rested  ‒ not all of the time, but there will be moments of feeling fully rested. Your body will feel better. You will leave the house in under an hour. Your time will not always be dictated by nap schedules. You will have a complete conversation again. The standard may change and be slightly different than before baby, but you’ll get used to the new normal, and it will be okay.

Find a really good friend in the same stage of life as you. If you can’t meet for playdates, use Voxer and phone calls. Meet to take walks so your littles can get some sunshine while you get exercise and socialization. 

When you’re feeling housebound and suffocated, get outside. Babies are resilient. Bundle her up, stick her in the carrier or the stroller, and enjoy the revitalizing fresh air.

Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Hire a sitter, call a grandma, find a young girl dying to hold babies, ask an older mom friend who no longer has littles, trade with a friend who has a child your daughter’s age . . . you aren’t alone. Anyone who has had a child knows how hard it is and is willing to help.

Get some time alone. Tearing yourself away from your baby can be hard. Sometimes leaving sounds harder than staying. Sometimes you leave and wonder how they’re doing and worry they’re missing you. Leave them in good hands that you trust and go. Journal and read at a coffee shop, take a bike ride, go shopping, wander aimlessly through the grocery store while taking your time instead of madly dashing, watch a movie at the theater, visit a friend, drive nowhere slowly, take a walk . . . just take a break. Try to do something you used to do before baby that makes you feel like yourself.

Your relationship with your partner feels different and weird, and some of that has to do with your body and yourself. Literally everything about you, physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually has stretched and grown with your baby, and when your baby exited your womb, you were reborn as well. It will take a little time, a lot of honesty, frequent communication and intention, and prioritized date nights, but you will both learn to know these new, better versions of each other, and you will find your new footing. You will have to make him a priority, and sometimes you’ll be too tired or too “touched out,” and that’s okay, too. You’ll find your way, and you will both grow and change in beautiful, new ways. You’re going to find your way and be okay. 

Most importantly, talk to God. You may not always have time or energy to read your Bible or sing a worship song. Sometimes you might read a verse or two on the toilet, and that will be your Bible reading for the day. Or maybe you’ll listen to a chapter or two while taking a shower. Somedays you will once again have time to sit down and dive in, pondering and letting the words sink deep inside your soul. In the meantime, talk to God. If you don’t know what to do or say, or if you’re worried about your baby and her sleep or your husband and your relationship or even what kind of baby formula to buy. Nothing is too big or too little. Talk to God. He is faithful to show you the way. 

When you wonder if someone else could do better, and you think, They said I would know what to do! They said instinct would kick in! You do, and it is. Put away Google, say a prayer, hold your baby, and listen. If you can’t understand what you’re being told, start with a clean diaper and a feeding, and if that doesn’t work, just snuggle and rock and wear your headphones to drown out the unhappiness while you catch up on that show or audiobook if you need to.

When the days feel hard, that’s okay, too. You’re not a bad mom or a bad person for wanting a break or needing some space from your baby. You’re not weak or incompetent for thinking it’s hard. You can be fully in love and infatuated, and you can also want to be anywhere else. You’re allowed to feel two opposing feelings at once. Being a mom is hard. Ask any mom anywhere, and she will agree with you. 

Did I mention you’re doing an amazing job? You may not feel like it, and since you’re a mother, you maybe haven’t been told recently. You’re doing such a good job that people around you may not know you need to hear it. They can’t see your insides and hear the thoughts in your head.

Your baby is loved. Your baby is safe. Your baby is well cared for. Your baby has you, so she has everything she needs. She and you are going to be just fine. 

Learning new skills takes time and plenty of mistakes. As you watch her learn by the minute and the hour, blowing past all the milestones, you’ll think she is learning more than you, but she isn’t. You’re learning to be a mother, and your job is just as hard as learning to walk and talk. You’re being reformed. Your brain, your body, and your heart are all changing and growing, just like the baby in your arms. Sometimes you won’t always like the new you, but keep going. With time, you will be a better you than you’ve ever been before. 

There is a lot you don’t know right now that you wish you did. You’ll figure it out, and you’ll learn what you need to know. There is a book (or ten) for every subject concerning babies, but even if you read all of them, they might not tell you what you need to know. Books and articles can be helpful, so don’t be afraid to read them, but just when you think you’ve figured it out and have arrived, something will change. This process can be exhausting and frustrating, but it’s normal and okay. You’re not doing anything wrong. This learning process is just part of being a mom.

Most importantly, look into your baby’s eyes. Rub your nose against her soft cheek. Snuggle her close and breath in her sweet, soft, innocent newness. You’re both in love, and you’re on this adventure together. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to figure this motherhood thing out as well as anyone can. You’re doing a great job. No one else will love your baby as much as you do. No one else knows her as well. You are her world. No one else matters to her as much as you do. You don’t have to be perfect. Just keep loving her.

We never exchanged names, New Mom and I. I think of her and other new moms often, and I remember myself as a new mom. I hold us all in my memories with love and tenderness. Like our precious new babies, stretching their tiny arms and legs, mouths opening wide in search of sustenance like weak baby birds in search of their mamas, eyes bright with love as they scan for the face they hold most dear, we are new and weak, too. Stretching our mama muscles for the first time. With time and training and practice. Hard workouts and the occasional injury. Gentle coaching from mamas who have already gone before us. Teammates to cheer us on. If we can have grace for ourselves and take advantage of the water stops and the cheering fans along the way, we’ll make it over the rocks and the hills and through the trees to the sunshine, warm on our faces.