New Mummy Blog: The Best Advice I Can Give

I received an email the other day from one of my closest friends, currently pregnant with her first child, asking for baby-related recommendations. Naturally, I promptly started compiling a mental list of the products, gadgets and hacks that I would have been lost without.

But then I stopped. Sure, the breastfeeding lifesaver, the miracle product that saved our sleep, the only thing guaranteed to stop my baby crying, the swaddling shortcut, the surprisingly useful basic items, and my take on which Bugaboo is best* would all be very useful indeed.

But was that the best I could do?

It just seemed so mundane. So unworthy and not at all reflective of the massive thing that was about to happen to her.

And so, I’ve rethought it and rewritten it. Here, my dear friend, is truly the best advice I can give.

I want you to know that it’s okay to let motherhood change you. In fact, chances are, you won’t have much say in the matter at all. It’ll just steamroll in and change you regardless.

[Copyright: Yahoo/Claire Sparks]

You’re no longer ‘you’; you’re 'us’. Even when you’re alone, your thoughts are constantly with your child. You see everything through their eyes. You think of them first thing in the morning and last minute at night, and almost every single moment in between.

And that’s okay. It doesn’t mean you’ve lost yourself. You’re still there, it’s just a little harder to make time just for you. But it will pass. You’ll get you back. Your baby won’t need you like this forever. Enjoy it while it lasts.

But even though this loss of identity is temporary, there’s a part of it that is here to stay. Even when you feel the old you returning, and you begin to long for a break from the routine of parenting, that old you isn’t quite the same. You’ll never be quite the same. But why would you want to be?

From now on, the world will seem just a little bit different. From the very first night after my first child was born, it seemed a much more dangerous place. Each bad news story seemed more personal. Each terrorist attack, each murder, each story of a sick, hungry or missing child became intolerable to read. Everything is now processed, seen and understood through the filter of the almost unbearable love a parent feels for their child.

Unbearable because you constantly worry and at times are consumed with guilt that you’re not good enough; you don’t know what you’re doing; you’re not a natural mother. Even the most self confident is not immune to the crushing guilt that motherhood invites in.

I want you to know you are good enough. You are going to be the most marvellous mother. No one knows what they’re doing. All you can do is love your child with all your heart and keep them safe.

[Copyright: Yahoo/Claire Sparks]

It’s impossible to be a perfect mother. I struggled with letting go of the perfectionism I reach for in other areas of my life. I’ve worked hard to control my career, my ambitions. I wanted to do the same with motherhood - I didn’t want to be mediocre, just good enough. But there is no control here, not in the middle of the loneliest nights when the baby won’t sleep and you feel like the only one in the world who’s awake.

You can only do your best. Do what feels right. It won’t be perfect, someone will always disagree or disapprove and won’t hold back in telling you so. What do they know? You are your baby’s mother. No one knows your child like you do.

When, or if, the day comes that it’s time to leave your baby and return to work, I want you to know it’s not as bad as you think it’s going to be. Sure, you’ll never not feel guilty again. You’ll never not feel rushed. You’ll never not feel like you’re supposed to be somewhere else; at home when you’re at work and at work when you’re at home.

And it doesn’t matter how boardroom-ready you feel, how big the pitch or important the client, you’ll still be reduced (or perhaps elevated) to the most instinctive of levels, and be ready to drop everything and run for the door if your child is hurt or needs you. Nothing will ever be more important than protecting your child. And that, too, is okay.

But most of all, I’d like you to know that what lies ahead for you is the most wonderful, magical, incredible phase of your life. I know, I know, it’s “nothing special”, hundreds of thousands of women give birth every day probably. But it is special. So very special. And it goes far, far too quickly.

So the best advice I can give is savour every single minute. Being a mummy is worth it.

*Okay, so after all that, all you really want to know is the practical stuff, here it is: Lansinoh lanolin cream, a Sleepyhead (yes it’s expensive but I’d pay it five times over for bringing sleep back to our lives), a white noise for babies app, Mamas & Papas zip-up swaddles, giant muslin squares (SO many uses) and my buggy cup holder (hands-free coffee), and the Cameleon.