I've been given a lot of advice over the last five or so months regarding pregnancy and raising a child (and stretch marks and maternity clothes and on and on and on). Some of it I've completely disregarded, and some of it I've filed away as Very Important To Remember (for example: re-stock the liquor cabinet), but the overall theme of the advice is that there is just no way for me to really prepare for what's to come. Sure, I can pad my registry with just the right items, and I can read the perfect books on all the important topics, but until I'm really in the thick of things, I can't truly understand how incredible it's going to be or how awful or how exhausting or how hard or how insanely fantastic. I can't really grasp how much poop there will be or how much spit-up or how few lazy Sunday mornings we'll be able to enjoy for the next 30-some-odd years.
I can kind of equate it to feeling this boy kick. No one could really explain what it would feel like beforehand in a way that prepared me for how awesome and weird it would be. And, here's the, well, kicker, it feels like what you would imagine it would feel like: a very wee little person kicking (punching, jabbing, karate chopping) you from the inside. But as exquisite as the English language is (and also downright confusing, what with all the rules and exceptions and different styles to choose from), words will never be able to perfectly capture an unexperienced feeling in such a way that someone completely understands what to expect.
There was this moment when he kicked me hard enough for there to be no mistaking what it was, and I laughed out loud because (well, first, because that was my boy) BUT OF COURSE THAT WAS A KICK, IT FELT JUST LIKE A KICK. But, wow, was it nine million times cooler (and stranger) than I ever imagined it would be.
I kind of think labor and the first day of being a mom and then the first week, month, year will all be similar to feeling him kick. Holy shit, everyone was right, but, OH MY GOD, did I need to experience it for myself to really get it.
So, yes, I've been sopping up the wisdom of my mom friends and researching the right stroller and reading about sleep training and having mock conversations with my son about the importance of pursuing his dreams and how we'll always back him up no matter what he chooses, but, more important than all that, I've tried to really let go of expectations and realize that there is so much I can't prepare for, and I may as well enjoy the ride as it comes.
People (excluding a select few, namely Spencer Pratt), have good instincts. I have to imagine that before there was The Internet or manuals or how-to guides or pre-natal classes, people relied on their guts to raise their children and that worked out fairly well for most of them.
Even though I am rightly terrified for the years to come, I also have a lot of faith in Mike's and my ability to raise this little guy (and any potential subsequent brothers or sisters of his) the very best way we can. The experience will be riddled with mistakes (mistakes just strewn all over the place, I can almost see them littered about), but we'll never be short on love or humor, and those are two things that have yet to fail us when it counts.
There is something I do think about because even though I'm trying to prepare to be unprepared, it's something insanely important to me, and that's my relationship with Mike. To some we got pregnant relatively soon after we got married. (We started trying, basically, right after the wedding, and were successful just a few weeks after our one-year anniversary.) Mike and I have been together just about five years and have lived together for three, and although, yes, we haven't been married long, we definitely don't feel we rushed into this decision. On one of our first dates, Mike told me he wanted to be a father, and that sounds like it could come across creepy so early in a relationship, but I promise it was rather endearing. And although I know our relationship won't be the same come February, and I know we'll be infinitely grateful for the change, I want to keep our relationship—as wife and husband, not mother and father—in focus.
If you've been down this road before—if you were once part of a young(ish) couple who was on the brink of welcoming your first child into a messy, rarely-tidied house with a needy, neurotic dog and a pathetic-at-best bank account—what did you do to ensure the baby shook everything up but didn't rock the foundation everything was built on?
I believe in my relationship with Mike, and, honestly, I believe we'll be OK no matter what relying on that love and humor that has gotten us to this point, but I also know it's easy to slip into routines that shift the focus from "us" to "what's new on the DVR and did you pay that electric bill?" I also know that you can't really prepare for what these changes will do to your relationship—in the same way you can't really prepare for the changes themselves—but it doesn't hurt to be given some Very Important to Remember advice to file away.
When anyone asks me for marital advice (and, hey, they don't ask often) I usually only have one thing to say, and that's be nice to one another. That's all I've really figured out. Well, that, and keep the liquor cabinet well-stocked (trend?). So, if your advice is that simple or that straightforward, let me still have it. Even if it's advice I'm well-aware of, obvious advice that everyone should know, I'd love a record of it to look back on as a reminder when my child is screaming at 3 a.m. and the only thing louder than that screaming is my adorable, redheaded husband's snoring.