Three years ago a close friend of mine was on the precipice of first time Motherhood. After the birth of two kids, I felt I had a few kernels of wisdom to share, so I wrote her a letter.

I found that letter recently and all of the emotions I felt during early Motherhood came roaring back to life. It’s an incredible period of time filled with an intensity that threatens to overcome you on your darkest days, but reading those words again reminds me of the profound privilege it is to be a Mother.

I gave my kids life, and they gave me Motherhood. Having a front row seat to someone else’s journey is a gift that I will never take for granted. If you’re on the verge of Motherhood yourself, I think you’ll find some helpful thoughts in the letter below. If you’re well past the early years, I think you’ll enjoy the trip down memory lane…and thank your lucky stars that no one is peeing on your anymore.

Side note / I speak to breastfeeding quite a bit in this letter as I knew my friend was interested in trying to feed her child in that way. My experience with breastfeeding was my personal choice and certainly not the correct or only way to feed a child. I celebrate all my Mamas out there who bottle fed, exclusively breastfed, pumped, tube fed or any combination of those options and more.

I also speak from a position of having two very different birth experiences- C Section and Vback. This is by no means an inclusive letter, but meant to touch on just some of the experiences new Moms may face.

Names/gender have been removed for privacy + general appeal

Dearest friend,

Your body will be ground zero after birth. Total destruction. Emotionally, physically, psychologically. You will think you’re bleeding more than anyone else ever has. You’ll think that your intestines are going to fall out your asshole. You will catch a glimpse of your butt in the mirror, take a closer look, then fight back vomit as you realize you have hemorrhoids the size of grapes.

You’ll wonder why your milk isn’t coming in and freak out. Then your milk will come in….and you will truly freak out. Veiny hard massive boobs- your baby will not latch correctly, it will hurt, you will cry, you will feel like a failure and think you’ll starve them to death. Baby will want to nurse all the time, and you’ll wonder if you should get them on a schedule or let them nurse at will, and you will be positive that this “natural” thing is something that everyone else has figured out but you.

Your partner will ask what they can do to help, and you’ll want to tell them to fuck off (and grab you a slice of gluten free cake and a large jug of water while they’re at it). Everyone will say the wrong thing- especially your Mother, sister, partner, good friends, relatives, co-workers and the amazon delivery person.

You will be begging for relief to take a shower, and then you’ll get in there and miss your baby and worry that your partner/your Mother/whomever is doing something wrong (on purpose and to piss you off). Everyone will want to “help” but it’s never exactly what you need (pro tip: always ask for food and water, that is the answer 99% of the time).

You may be surprisingly euphoric and energetic for the first few weeks- riding on adrenaline and wondering why everyone thinks this is so exhausting. Then your hormones will adjust, and you’ll be like- “mainline that espresso bitch!”

People will want to touch your baby all the time*. Keep the baby’s head near you and hover your hand over them like a puffy forcefield. Fuck those dirty germ filled well wishers.

The baby will pee on you. You can not avoid it. Prepare to embrace it.

You’ll sniff their head like a dog, your boobs will look like cow udders, and you’ll have an appetite like a bear. It’s super weird, gross, and also fascinating, particularly when your milk shoots across the room for the first time or you realize that you have several milk ducts and you start spraying like a balloon that has been poked through in four places.

The baby will cry, and you will leak through your shirt. A baby on TV will cry…and you will leak through your shirt. You will cry…and also leak through your shirt. You might have all of the above of or just some of it, but prepare thy self for the ride.

But Steph, why are you being such a dick? I’m emotionally fragile right now, and you’re just being mean…on purpose.

Well, my gorgeous reproducer- it’s like this: all that shit up there is just you becoming part of a badass sisterhood. Your body, mind and soul has been to war in a fight to bring this beautiful little person into the world. It’s hard fucking work, and you should be so proud of yourself- I know I am proud of you already.

Of course, there are a few positives that outweigh all this crazy shit. Your baby will be the most incredible, amazing, beautiful, sweet little person you have ever met. You’ll lock eyes for the first time, and lose your damn mind. They’ve been with you this whole time, and you won’t realize until this moment the depth of your love for them.

*A lot of selfies happen when you’re a stay-at-home Mom.*

Their pink tiny body will curl up against your chest, and you’ll look at your partner and you’ll feel this connection between the three of you like a buzz of electricity. You truly become a family in this moment- this joint project previously in the abstract becomes real AF, and it’s fucking magic.

In the days ahead, you will ooh and aah over every little squeak and snore and blink. You’ll know without a shadow of a doubt that you have given birth to the cutest baby in the world, and perhaps of all time. Their eyes will crinkle up like yours do when they smile. Their cute little tush will strangely look exactly like your partner’s, and sometimes you’ll look at them and see no-one but them in all their unique and perfect glory.

You will have given birth to this perfect person, but also reintroduced yourself to the world as a Mother.

You might not understand it right away, but you have just activated a powerful new self. You might look totally different, or exactly the same, after a few months, but you are now connected to Mothers the world over, across generations, and throughout time.

You’ll nod knowingly to the red head with the three month old snoozing in a sling and smile to the woman breastfeeding on a park bench while she watches her four year old on the swing. You’ll bask in the compliments from an older Grandmotherly type (while you’re swatting her hands away from baby’s head), and you’ll share your birth story with the Mother of a fourteen year old while she recounts hers like it was yesterday.

The amazing thing is, you’ll know these women without having to say a word to each other. You’ve joined the club now.

*Nursing pillow- check. Teething necklace-check. Melasma- check (If you know, you know)*

I could write a book about the first few weeks alone, but this is your chapter sweet friend. I will leave you with the following practical advice:

o Have someone else (or yourself prior to birth) make an obscenely large batch of trail mix, and make sure you have easy access to it for late night snacking post nursing. Add chocolate chips. You will be fucking starving.

o Wash it down with a quart of water in an ugly water jug with a straw. The straw is key.

o Keep the above-mentioned water jug filled and on you at all times.

o Take stool softeners not laxatives, unless you want to crap your pants on the way to the bathroom. It happened to a “friend” of mine.

o Look up diastasis recti exercises, not for vanity, but because you’ll want to pick up your baby at some point without your core giving out on you. I’m still suffering the consequences of not doing this soon enough.

o Take a Vitamin B complex capsule. You’ll be running on fumes, and this will fill your depleted reserves.

o Also, take Vitamin D. Post-partum depression is real and this can help.

o Tell everyone who offers to help to bring food.

o Amazon.com is your friend- it has everything you need. If you don’t already have a prime account- get one.

o Gerber organic cotton onesies are cheap, and you’ll want about a million.

o If you are feeling at all sad, not connecting with the baby or feeling overwhelming feelings of guilt or anger, ask your partner, family member or friend to find someone that specializes in post-partum depression. This shit is no joke, and help can be life changing.

And finally, welcome to the sisterhood. We’ve been expecting you.

All the love in the world,

Your sister Mama

*pre-COVID times. I don’t think any rando is going to touch a baby ever again.

*The one that made me a Mother getting in a quick nursing sesh before I went to the wedding of the friend I wrote this letter to.*

If you’re a Mom, what’s your best advice to new Moms? If you’re a new Mom, what’s the most unexpected part of Motherhood?

With love,

Steph

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