Having a baby is hard. What comes next is harder. Having a baby is the most joyous experience of one’s life. I don’t disagree. But how I wish I had been given a dose of realism at some point, was given some sense of what to expect. Even an 8 week childbirth class couldn’t prepare me. I hope this blog can help prepare you, or support you in the early weeks when you feel like you’re the only one!

Over the course of 9 months of pregnancy, no one, not my midwife, my childbirth class, not my friends, told me that becoming a mother was going to be the most difficult thing I would ever have to do. I spent the majority of my pregnancy preparing for labor. I was afraid of the effect of medication both on myself and the baby, so I planned on a natural birth. All my preparations revolved around making it through labor without medications. I laugh now looking back–I never thought to prepare to take care of a baby or even more importantly, to prepare to have my entire life revolve around doing just that. Although honestly I’m not sure the preparation had much to do with it, I did manage to make it through a grueling posterior birth without medications. And my one regret? Not having an epidural! For the weeks that followed, I was so traumatized by the experience I found it difficult to think of anything else, let alone my new baby.

Which brings me to the next challenge. After hours of labor, women deserve a vacation. We need to recover. Eat, sleep, rejuvinate. Instead, we are faced with a new being, one that only wants to eat and sleep, and how do they eat? That was another thing I had forgotten to plan for. All babies eat. I knew about breastfeeding, we talked about it in my childbirth class, but I never really gave it much thought. I knew it was best for the baby and that I was going to do it. Breastfeeding was a natural thing, how hard could it be? Babies need to eat–I assumed they knew instinctually how to breastfeed. How I wish someone had prepared me. That I had known about the countless websites, books, support groups, and listserves dedicated to helping women feed their babies. That it doesn’t come naturally, that it takes practice, and that sometimes it doesn’t work. That I had one inking of understanding about how difficult it would be and how much support I would need to make it through, or to quit when I had to. I nursed my baby through 4 excruciatingly painful weeks. Each day was Groundhog Day. I would wake to crying and brace myself for the pain. Every day I promised to go one day more. By the end of one month I was no longer a person. I was a crying mess. I was so desperate for a break I hid in my room after each feeding, dreading the next. I hired two lactation consultants, attended La Leche meetings and breastfeeding support groups, joined multiple pumping support groups, purchased nipple shields, breastpumps, milk storage bags, and bottles, tried formula, drank mother’s tea. Finally, I sought out the pump to let myself heal and I ended up pumping exclusively for the following 4 months. I subscribed to pumping support groups where women did anything and everything, including wake repeatedly every night and pump for hours on end to avoid feeding their babies formula. Finally, when I couldn’t stand rushing home every three hours to pump anymore, couldn’t stand missing one more event, or watching my baby cry in hunger while I frantically pumped, I made the switch to formula. Ah formula formula. An innocuous little can loaded with so much meaning.

Having a baby is a blessing. I don’t take it for granted. I had to work to get pregnant, I know how lucky I am to have my sweet baby girl. But I also know it isn’t all roses. The sheer power of the emotions associated with childbirth and breastfeeding astounds me. I know it has much to do with the value our society places on natural birth, on breastfeeding, and on mothering in general. Through this blog I hope to provide a little bit of reality–a place for women to go to talk honestly and openly, without fear or judgement, to admit to their difficulties and to recognize that despite our best efforts, we can’t always be the “perfect” mother. The image of the homebirthing mother whose baby crawls up her chest to painlessly breastfeed while her 5 other children watch adoringly? It’s a motherload!