#188: Lessons from babyworld
Good morning!
Today I’m sharing a scary amount of “new parent tips” for a reader and her pregnant sister. Parenting advice is a little treacherous…I hesitate to claim authority or impose my still-fresh perspective on someone fresher, which is why I tried to avoid anything too prescriptive. But I’ve learned so much over the last nine months that I’m coming apart at the seams! So before I lose all these lessons to the black hole of my memory (one unforeseen aspect of motherhood), I wanted to get some of them down.
She’s having a baby
“Haley! My sister-in-law is pregnant (20ish weeks!) and is having a baby girl! We’re damn thrilled and I can’t wait to be a girl aunt. I’m the baby sister and, as this is the first new addition to our family, I have two questions for you. One, as you’re now nine months postpartum, what advice do you have for my sister-in-law that I could pass along? Of the books you read and research you did, what has stood the test of time that you actually use or think has/will serve you? And two, since this is the first time someone so dear to me is pregnant, what were the best ways people close to you supported you for the first few months postpartum? What felt the best? And what should I avoid?”
Congratulations to your sister! These are such sweet questions to ask. I’m going to offer some suggestions that feel top of mind. Every experience is different though, so I hope you (both) take what’s useful and ignore the rest. You may also find some differing perspectives in the comments; based on this incredible thread, there are plenty more experienced parents in the house.
16 thoughts for your pregnant sister:
Preparation
This may fall on deaf ears (it did for me!), but as far as preparation goes, most of the learning happens as you parent, including learning what gear you do and don’t need. It can be so comforting to research all day and night when you’re pregnant, but know that the quality of your parenting isn’t reliant on how much you’ve Googled about strollers and wake windows. I know two people who had significantly less time to prepare than I did (one gave birth six weeks early while painting her baby’s empty nursery; the other was given three days warning after being on an adoption list for years). Both of them and their kids are thriving! And so quickly. If you’re overwhelmed about what to buy, focus on the things you’ll need the first week, things that take a long time to ship, and/or things you’d need in an urgent situation. Here’s a list I made for some pregnant friends of random little items that helped me early on.
Recovery
I’ve mentioned this a few times now, but birth recovery was so much more brutal than I anticipated. When my friend told me she couldn’t walk for a week after birth, I technically heard her but the words simply did not penetrate. So when I found myself hobbling down the hallway of my apartment bleeding profusely into a diaper, I was shocked. I felt like I’d been in a horrible car crash. Please, do not rush recovery! Let people bring you things. Even from across the room. Even from two feet away. If you need it, find time for pelvic floor physical therapy (I started going in my third trimester). Your body needs rest to recover, and caring for a baby is not restful, so you have to find it in tiny pockets of opportunities to accept care. But if it’s any consolation, I felt better way sooner than I expected to and I feel 100% back to normal now, which for a while I couldn’t imagine.
Comparison
What’s difficult about pregnancy, birth, and the first year of parenthood can vary wildly (I’m sure this continues forever). Some people have awful pregnancies and easy births; really difficult newborn days and smooth sailing after three months; sleep issues but no feeding issues, etc. It’s natural and even healthy to compare your experience to other parents’—it’s how we connect. But we all take our hits at different times, and will thrive and struggle through different eras. Remembering this has helped keep me humble (during easy moments) and curbed my envy (during hard ones).
Phases
You’ll hear this a lot: Everything in parenthood is a phase. In the newborn days, a phase can last three hours and rock your world. As the baby grows, the phases get longer, but even at nine months, my baby can still have one that only lasts three days. The phases are usually over faster than you expect, so resist drawing big conclusions or hatching huge plans (or buying expensive things) from a hard couple of days. Those phases can feel long, but they can also end suddenly, out of nowhere! Try to be patient with the baby and yourself. You might feel yourself going through phases emotionally as well, and similarly, these aren’t as permanent as they feel.
Nostalgia
Somewhat related to phases: Whenever you lose something sweet to the passage of time (newborn smell, napping together, the ease of a non-crawling child, etc.), you gain something sweet in return. It’s always a trade, usually a trade up. So it’s a waste of energy to fear challenges before they come up—you don’t yet know what will be lovely and easy about that time to balance it out. Also, and this has never not been true for me: Anticipatory nostalgia is so much sharper than present nostalgia. Every time I’ve been terrified of taking a new step and the heartbreak that will accompany it, like when I moved Sunny into her own room, it’s been a lot softer, even easier, than all the fearful build-up suggested. That said, I’ve learned that a lot of these emotions are basically part of the deal. Nostalgia, time-warps, anticipation. You do learn to live with them. Early on, my therapist told me it gets easier to watch your kid grow, and that’s definitely been true for me. (It’s also a heart-exploding miracle to watch, which helps.)
Self-regulation
You’ll hear this a lot too, but most of parenting is about regulating your own emotions, versus the child’s. That means remaining calm, collected, and receptive to whatever emotional experience your baby is having. If the baby seems unhappy or falls over or makes a weird sound and you freak out, they will pick up on that energy and potentially mirror it. I find that keeping my voice and breath calm has a strangely self-fulfilling effect: I act calm, I am calm. You’ll find your own styles with this, but when she whines, I don’t immediately try to placate her; when she cries, I don’t frantically swoop in—I give her some time to figure things out, be bored, feel her feelings. This is famously referred to as “the pause” in the book Bringing Up Bébé (all books I mention will be linked below). I once heard someone say that jumpy/reactive parenting communicates to your child that you can’t handle their emotions, and I think about that all the time. Another phrase I like is, “Support, don’t solve.” I try to remember my goal is to love and support my baby, not protect her from the human experience.
Toys
Every parent has their own approach when it comes to toys, but something I’ve found useful is reminding myself that the entire world is new to her. She’s entertained by a napkin! Or watching me fold clothes. A lot of cultures are less toy-obsessed than Western society (there’s a great section about this in Hunt, Gather, Parent), and I try to keep that in mind when I worry she’s bored or needs more stuff (oftentimes I’m just projecting: I would be bored of that ball by now, lol). We’ve also opted out of battery-operated toys so far, and it’s made our house a lot more peaceful—just an option if you get rattled by loud noises like I do. You may go a different route, but regardless I think it’s helpful to remember that kids have powerful imaginations and will always find a way to play.
Productivity
Before I had a kid, when I heard parents say it was the hardest thing they’d ever done, I always pictured them running frantically around like the shoppers in Guy’s Grocery Games, slinging diapers and speed-dialing doctors. In reality, baby-parenting involves an enormous amount of chilling. This can make you feel like you’re not doing much. Then, because going out requires more work than your energy may permit, you can get a little cabin fever. Please believe me when I tell you that you’re doing a ton and the cabin fever’s not your fault. This took me about six months to figure out. Before having a baby, I used to gauge my productivity by measuring what I did beyond the non-negotiable stuff like getting dressed and brushing my teeth. If the task was essential and automatic, it didn’t go on my mental to-do list, and thus didn’t “count.” But when you have a baby, nearly everything you do is essential, automatic, and non-negotiable, and there is so much more of it to do. And while many of these tasks are, at their core, simple (and you may not mind doing them), they still demand presence, creativity, and vigilance. And still, at the end of the day, you can feel like you’ve done nothing. Don’t believe this feeling. It’s based on a faulty calculation.
Problem-solving
Reminiscent of what I wrote about here, in the newborn days, you’re faced with tons of decisions every day, every hour. The answers are far less cut and dry than you might expect, even if you’re pretty educated on newborn care. I say that because sometimes our pediatrician will be like, “Who knows!?” It’s amazing how different every baby is and how mysterious they all remain. When I’ve been paralyzed by choices that all seem right and wrong for different reasons, I ask myself: What’s one thing I *could* do? Then I just try the first thing I come up with. Your baby will lead you to make the exact right mistakes you need to make in order to get to know them. Mistakes will hone your instincts, so let them guide you.
Stepping back
If you’re parenting with a partner, let them struggle and make mistakes too. This is how they’ll develop their own style, hone their instincts in parallel, and become a genuinely engaged coparent. Sometimes this will mean letting the baby cry longer than they otherwise would (if you, the birthing parent, took over), but it will benefit you all in the long run. The struggle and the care are really important components of the intense love you’ll develop for your baby, so if you constantly step in, you risk taking the opportunity to build that away from your partner, which is a loss for everyone. I’d suggest having lots of conversations with your partner about this ahead of the baby arriving—Avi read The Gardener and the Carpenter when I was pregnant and it really helped him grasp how much his involvement would lead to his connection with the baby. Still, even the best of intentions won’t necessarily guarantee an even split. Biology and socializing sometimes made it hard for me and Avi to keep a balance once the baby came. It’s a constant conversation for us (still is), but those conversations are paying off all the time.
Sharing resources
Expose your partner to some of the resources you’re drawing from. It’s easy to put this in gendered terms (and it may not apply to your relationship), but anecdotally, moms are more proactive at seeking out support than dads, and this can have tons of far-reaching effects, emotionally and practically. You might also experience a split based on personality types. When Avi and I sensed a gap forming early on, I gave him the login for my Reddit bump group (which happened to be my biggest source of info for a while), and right away he started connecting with me on other parents’ experiences and how they might help us, which felt huge. Being in community with other parents fleshes out your perspective and generally makes you feel less alone, so it can make an exponential difference when both of you are reaping those benefits. Joining that forum also radicalized Avi on labor division. It was very ghost of Christmas future in that it felt like he was listening to a room of women open up about why they resented their well-meaning husbands, and it made him more conscious of what was “fair” between us. Now his social media algorithms are fucked by parenthood content just like mine, lol, and he’s DMing me baby tips all the time. May seem silly but it’s so nice to feel like that investment is shared.
Parent friends
The next two bits of advice will only be relevant if your social situation going into parenthood looks how mine did (i.e., a couple good parent friends but mostly not, and a lack of integration between the two groups). One of the most surprising aspects of becoming a mother, to me, has been just how much I need other mothers and parents to connect with—in this case I’m talking about local, in-the-flesh people, not faraway friends or forums. If you don’t have nearby friends with kids, you’ll want to find them. It may take some intention, but if it’s any consolation, it’s the least awkward I’ve ever felt making new friends. I literally get women’s numbers on the street after talking to them for five minutes. I’m now in three active Whatsapp groups with hundreds of Brooklyn parents. These are vibrant communities people have built out of pure need. I’ve also connected with lots of friends-of-friends that I didn’t know very well before, who I now text with every day. Babies are incredible connectors, and most parents want to connect, which makes it way easier. At the same time, new friendships don’t always hit the same as old ones, and they won’t immediately resemble a “village,” so expect a little ennui while they develop.
Non-parent friends
The divide between parent and non-parent friends can feel pretty stark at times. I think this is especially true in American urban centers where children aren’t super integrated into adult society, so many of us don’t engage much with kids until we’re parents ourselves. In these cases, it can be really hard for non-parents to grasp what you’re going through or know exactly how to engage—and it’s difficult to communicate those things, too. This isn’t anyone’s fault. There’s a cliche among new parents that as soon as you have a baby, you wish you could apologize to everyone you’ve known who’s had a baby before you, because you realize you weren’t compassionate enough, curious enough, around enough. I felt that regret right away. Try to give your non-parent friends grace versus holding grudges. Parenthood is such a steep and immersive learning curve that sometimes you can forget what it was like before you were doing it. Early parenthood can make you pretty self-involved, too. So try to remember to engage with what your friends are going through. Just as you may feel a bit unseen, they may feel the same way in reverse. Also, don’t forget to invite your friends around to hang out with you and the baby—you may feel like you’re waiting for them to reach out, but they’re often waiting for you (I’m still realizing this all the time). Lastly, if you have true depth to a friendship, don’t worry, that will likely carry over.
Surrender
This one’s a big focus for me right now. Before I had a kid, I envisioned the baby as this wonderful addition to my life and world, rather than something that would completely overhaul it. Obviously I knew it would be a ton of work, but I hoped to maintain some continuity with my former life. At first this seemed totally possible; I was surprised how like myself I felt. But as months passed, the massive lifestyle change chipped away at my resolve. Was I the same “me” if my life and priorities looked completely different? How do I define myself? (Just some small questions.) People love to say: “The baby is joining your world, you’re not joining theirs!” And while I can’t say whether this mindset is useful later on, it hasn’t been true for me yet, and I think I’ve caused myself some suffering by trying to pretend it could or should be. It’s not that my personality has done a 180 or that I only care about my baby now (honestly many of my interests are the same as before), it’s more that, day to day, I operate radically differently, and that affects everything—how I move, think, eat, sleep, shop, plan, socialize. In my experience, you can’t just take the baby along to whatever you were doing before. What was I even doing before? I can’t remember. I suspect there’s a lot more to be gained by embracing the changes rather than resisting them, and trusting that you’ll find your footing not by looking back or holding on, but by patiently building something new.
Leaping
Just because your life is more regimented now doesn’t mean it has to feel small. In fact, having a baby has opened the world back up to me in a way I haven’t accessed since childhood (the ocean! squirrels! holding hands!). That said, early on, you can get addicted to controlling your environment in an attempt to produce the most peaceful outcomes. Eventually though, ceding a little control invites everyone to level up. Avi and I’ve noticed that every time we’ve done something new with the baby that we were nervous about (going to lunch for the first time, taking her overnight somewhere, having her nap at a friend’s place, etc), we’ve always come out better parents with a more experienced and flexible baby, whether or not it went according to plan. This mindset applies more broadly as you take this leap into parenthood. There’s so much to discover just past your comfort zone.
Falling
Lastly, I’ve given a lot of space to the challenges, so I want to give some to how much I love being a parent, and how much I think you will, too. I knew I’d love my baby, but I didn’t know the rush of falling in love would spread through my gut several times a day and make me want to scream. Avi and I will be exhausted at the end of night and we’ll still spend our last minutes of consciousness zooming in on photos of her, rehashing every little detail we can think of, then in the morning, stand outside her bedroom like giddy kids on Christmas. Who gets to go in first? I didn’t know it would be so FUN, and all the time! I once heard parenthood described as deeply exhausting and also, the best thing that ever happened to you occurs five times a day. The work really is unending, but you can’t yet fathom just how much you’ll want to do for your kid. Years ago, I watched my sister let her food go cold so many times while she fed her babies, and honestly, I’d feel bad for her. But what I didn’t understand then is how natural it would feel to extend care as a parent. It doesn’t feel like sacrifice in the way I imagined it might. It feels like a gift I get to give over and over and over—one that can’t possibly compare to what I receive in return. I feel so lucky I get to do this, and I hope you will, too.
Some books I’ve enjoyed*:
Hunt Gather Parent by Michaeleen Doucleff
The Gardener and the Carpenter by Alison Gopnik
Bringing Up Bebe by Pamela Druckerman
Precious Little Sleep by Alexis Dubeif
*With every parenting book, you love some parts, scrap others
And four thoughts for you (the sister!):
Obsessing
The most profound thing you can offer your sister is genuine care and emotional investment in her baby. Requesting photos, caring about her growth and milestones, wanting to be the best aunt, loving to hold her, etc. For me, as a parent, someone going wild for my baby is the best feeling in the world, and the sweetest thing they can offer me. My best friend mourned Sunny’s gummy smile when she got her first teeth, and texts me excitedly to ask if the top ones have come in yet. I don’t expect my friends to be that engaged, but it’s heaven when they are.
Help
As far as actual help, my biggest tip is to be a bit pushy and specific with it. It’s hard to ask for help as a parent (although we all need to learn this skill), so it’s wonderful when someone seems genuinely enthused, versus obligated, to chip in. For example, instead of asking, Can I bring you anything? which is terrifyingly open-ended and shifts the burden to your sister to guess what you mean, better to be upfront about what you can offer: “I want to bring you guys dinner next week! How’s Sunday or Wednesday around 5ish?” You could also say something like: “I want to learn to babysit! Can I come over on Saturday to hang out and observe, so I can learn how to do everything?” or later: “I want to babysit one night next week—can you pick a night? I’m free all week after 6.” You get it. Even though these are a little presumptuous, they’re so easy to accept on your sister’s end, and equally straightforward to turn down. I wish I’d done this more when my own sister had babies!
Spending time
For me, I transitioned from wanting help to wanting company pretty quickly. These days I’m just happy to have someone hanging around, even if they’re not expressly doing anything for me. But sometimes it’s hard to gauge your friends’ appetites for hanging out with your baby. You’re obsessed with hanging out with your own baby of course, but you might assume people would find it boring (if you’re home) or cumbersome (if you’re out). So it can be really nice when people outwardly express interest in coming to visit or suggest things to do with the baby all together. From the non-parent side, that kind of suggestion probably feels presumptuous. You might think the parent would prefer to set the terms and suggest the activity themselves, so you hold back. These two assumptions can lead to a kind of stand-off, with both incorrectly concluding the other is too busy to hang out, or doesn’t want to. When you can, express your interest in spending time with your sister and her baby. It could be an activity, like going to the park or a museum or the beach (which she can tweak to make baby-friendly), or more often, just offering to come over. “Can I come keep you and baby company this weekend? Maybe we can bake cookies and watch a movie while she naps.” That kind of thing. Babies are a lot of work, but often the work is fairly low-key and routine, so having adult company while you care for them is lovely. As a parent, you just don’t always know if people want to do that (and I'm sure some don’t!).
Connecting
Leave lots of space to talk about whatever you talked about before the baby. Text her about things you’ve always texted her about (just forgive the slow replies). Don’t assume that because she has a baby, or reaches out a little less, that she doesn’t want to hear about your life, or talk about stupid things. I definitely had an intense desire to talk about baby stuff initially, and still have that occasionally, but my interest in other topics never really waned. I still text friends all the time about dumb pop culture stuff, and I want to hear about their lives more than ever. Equally, I want to talk about mine, but when it comes to my life as a parent, similar to the concern above, I’m not always sure how much people, particularly non-parents, want to hear. If you’re curious about your sister’s inner life as a mother, I suggest not holding back with your questions. Be nosy! I’m serious. And when you can, get specific—“How are you?” is so vague it leads to vague answers. What’s it like to do x? How does y make you feel? What’s different from what you expected? What’s the latest drama with the baby? How are you and [partner] doing right now? I’m surprised by how seldom people ask me questions like that. Maybe they just aren’t curious, fair enough, or maybe they assume I don’t want to be prodded, but I do! A friend recently asked me at dinner if I ever get annoyed with my baby, and I thought that was an incredible question. It’s funny how curiosity like that can make you feel seen and loved. Having a baby is an overwhelming experience, but at the root of it, you’re still you, and it’s lovely when people reach in to find you.
That’s a lot, and of course still only feels like a fraction of what I could say! But I hope it helps. Congrats again, I think you’re going to be a natural.
If you have advice for our sweet questioner or her sister, please share! Next Sunday, as a sort of a counterpoint to this week, I’ll be answering a question from a reader who wants to have a baby but so far has been unsuccessful, and is grappling with accepting the possibility of a different life.
Hope you have a nice Sunday,
Haley
I had a friend send this incredible text (below) and it made me cry!! I opted for coffee at the house, she watched the baby while I showered, and then we went out for lunch.
The text: Hey friend! With B going back to work next week I thought you could maybe use some help. I am free T/W/Th next week. Some ideas include:
1. I come while you hang with Baby and can do your cooking, laundry, buying and putting away groceries etc etc
2. I come and watch Baby while you get a quality nap/alone time
3. I come and take you and Baby out to lunch/coffee/walk etc
4. I come over with food/coffee and we can just chill, catch up, watch trashy tv, etc.
child-free-by-choicer here, writing in to say I feel reassured reading your advice! I have a few close friends with babies/young kids and it's nice to know I'm doing ok, but could always be supporting more (texted a friend with pointed questions after reading lol). also I wish child-free people in general didn't self-isolate. these babies are your friends' kids! they're literally your new best friends!!