Now That I Have An 'Easy Baby,' I Finally Understand All Of You Smug Mothers

When I first started writing about my experiences with motherhood, I thought I was just spewing forth a litany of truths that every mother could empathize with. Having an infant is an exhausting time-sucker that renders one unable to get out of their pj’s, brush their hair, or face the world. Right?

Well, no. It turns out I was wrong. Mothers across the land were putting me in my place:

I find articles like this both tiresomely dull and dangerous, because they perpetuate this god awful myth that mother=martyr and that if a woman doesn’t turn 100% of her life over to her child, then she’s a horrible, selfish woman who should never have had a baby.

Well, shit, I must be doing it wrong then. Because after we got over the sleepless hell that is the newborn phase, it turns out that I still have hot meals, take daily showers, go on monthly dates with my husband, and take the time for myself to have a social life.

Can we pleas stop perpetuating the myth that life is OVER after a child is born? Yes, you will be able to go to the movies again or get your toenails painted.

Yet ANOTHER article detailing how much my life will be over and just barely worth living after I give birth. How original! And helpful for that matter! Good to know I have absolutely nothing to look forward to.

Imagine my dismay. There I was, thinking I was reaching out to new mothers to let them know they weren’t alone in their helpless desperation – and it turned out they weren’t helpless or desperate. Not only that, they were getting pedicures and going to movies and taking long showers. What the hell? What was going on in my house? I was convinced all of these women were just a bunch of smug liars.

Until about three weeks ago, when I had my second child.

My first child was a bottomless pit of hunger and need. He breastfed every hour-and-a-half, for 45 minutes. Not kidding. The first three months of his life were spent constantly feeding him and praying for those rare moments that he would actually fall asleep out of my arms. The lack of sleep was breaking me down. It didn’t help that I was a very paranoid first time mom.

If you Google, precisely how long can I leave an infant alone without worrying about them dropping dead? you are directed to a list of websites that teach you how to care for puppies and birds. There’s no practical advice out there that tells you – definitively – how long you can step away from your baby and still be certain they are okay. I took this as evidence that I really couldn’t step away from him at all and learned how to sprint to the shower, pee in seconds, and prepare meals all while he was in ear/eye-shot. I drove myself crazy. I assumed all new mothers did this.

I turns out they don’t. My particular brand of new-mom OCD was not something that all moms experienced. The combination of a very needy child and a very scared new mother was a recipe for disaster. I really didn’t have a life outside of my child. I just assumed that was what all mothers with infants went through. I was wrong.

I gave birth to a daughter a little less than a month ago. She loves to eat just as much as her brother did — but she can go for a few hours without a feeding. She only wakes twice during the night, so I’m getting about seven hours of sleep. She’s a chill little being who likes sleep. She once slept through an entire ultrasound, convincing my paranoid pregnant self that she was probably brain dead. She wasn’t brain dead. She was just relaxing. Relaxing in the womb – can you believe it?

The old adage is true: all kids are different. The moms that ripped into me for telling my stories weren’t smug after all. Their kids were just easier to manage than mine.

Having proven to myself that I can keep a child alive through infancy, I’m not as paranoid this time around. While my toddler is napping, I set my infant in her crib and calmly take a shower. She sits in her bouncer while I prepare meals. I’m showered, my hair is brushed and her father and I have already been on a date.

I still don’t really understand the wrath I got when I occasionally shared the stories of how my experience with early motherhood sort of sucked. Jeez, way to kick a woman when she’s down. I’ve made a solemn oath to never make one of those infuriatingly smug comments to someone who is enduring the shit-storm that new motherhood can be. I much prefer to shake my head with understanding, assure them that the tide will turn someday and offer to bring copious amounts of wine to their house and brush their hair.