Leah started a great conversation the other day. Boiling it down, the question is this: what do you say to a mother who is having a hard time with the adjustments of being a new mom. (Or a mom to a newborn; it's not just hard the first time, I suspect.)
You could say,
I am thinking of you. I am here for you. Would you like one shot of vodka in your martini or two? Go take a nap, I've got this covered. Where's your laundry detergent so I can do this load of whites? You look fantastic. You are the perfect mom for him/her. What's your favorite restaurant so I can pick up dinner? It gets so much better and it'll change from hard to easier like that. You're doing everything right. Your son/daughter is beautiful. It's hard for all of us, in so many ways. I'll be in the kitchen, doing the dishes. Eat this cupcake.
You shouldn't say:
It wasn't hard for me, so I can't understand where you're coming from (making a new mom feel like a pod person isn't nice, no matter how well-meaning it is). Your baby may just be more difficult than others. Have you tried rocking him/her? Did you talk to your pediatrician? (new moms are overwhelmed, but they're not stupid) Call me if you need anything! (she won't, you call her) We'll get together when you're feeling more like yourself. You probably just need to calm down. Relax! What's wrong with him/her? He/She's sure mad about something!
I can look back at my early new-mom experience and see it with a lot of clarity. I can see we went through a normal couple months of adjusting to life with a colicky baby. I had some downright horrible days back then, but there was a lot of good, too. It was normal, it was tough. It made me want to punch anyone who got to leisurely nap the afternoon away, but it also made me want to be a better person to other new moms.
I still get twitchy and sad when I think of all the people in my life who avoided me or maybe enjoyed -- even if just for a slight speck of a moment -- that they had easier babies and easier experiences. People who inadvertently made me feel guilty, incapable, ill-equipped instead of loved and supported. I don't fault you (or anyone) if you had a blissful, completely-different experience. God, I wouldn't want anyone to struggle. But first-hand knowledge isn't a prerequisite for being there for someone.
I feel like I'm rocking motherhood lately. I love it in a brand new way. I'm good at it, and I don't mind saying that. Not perfect, let's not get crazy, but I'm confident that I'm the best lady for this job, and I wasn't always (confident, that is). I can multi-task like I majored in it and I can get smiles and laughs out of him better than I can find cute shoes online. It's just great. And this new-found peace and happiness has given me a renewed surge of passion for reminding all new moms they're not alone and that they're plenty perfect as is.
A New Girl wrote this recently, and I wrote this part out and keep it in my purse:
"A bonfire into which we threw our expectations, our assumptions. And the blaze imprinted itself on my ideas about and my experience of new motherhood."
Expectations will destroy you, I've learned that the tough way. You expect roses on your birthday and even though there are daisies waiting, you're disappointed. You expect motherhood to be soft and sweet, like the Rice Krispies commercials. Then your head explodes at 2 am after an hour of mystery baby screaming and you think, didn't expect that. Burning expectations, throwing them to the wolves and letting them get torn apart, bit by bit, is freeing. There's freedom in carving out your own way in life, instead of waiting for the life you think you deserve to present itself to you.
I spent the first year burning down what I thought motherhood was going to be since it wasn't that at all. And what's now being rebuilt in its place is shockingly beautiful.
I've decided to start a mom's group in my area. I don't know what this means, exactly, but I know I need to do this. I need to form a community of moms, a group of strong women who are there for one another and there for each other's kids. I know I need to babysit more often for moms who don't have family here. I know I need to send dinners and notes and thoughts to new moms more often.
I feel like becoming a mother gave me a calling and not just to raise a beautiful boy into a beautiful man but to be there for all those beautiful moms who may have a hard time seeing in themselves what we're all seeing in them.