An Open Letter to a Brand New Mother

The day has finally arrived. The one you have been wishing for and dreaming of for so long. The day you've spent the last nine months thinking about, creating an expectation and an image of how it would all be.

You sat patiently and listened to all the well-meaning advice. You've read all the books, blogs and articles you can get your hands on. You've decorated the nursery just so.

You're ready.

That is, you thought you were ready. And then a midwife with a reassuring smile hands you your whole heart. You were so caught up in the pain and the adrenaline that you almost forgot that this was the endgame. You never even felt it leave your body, but now you know that it will forever beat within this tiny human that is staring at you like you are the centre of the universe.

Then, slowly, one by one, each expectation starts to unravel. Everything you thought you had learned and prepared yourself for is proving utterly useless.

A few days in, you begin to spend a lot of time thinking to yourself, "This is hard."

And it is. It's really, really hard.

Because they prepare you for the life-altering love, and they look back on what feels like such a fleeting moment in their long lives wishing they had "enjoyed every minute." But hindsight really is 20/20.

The truth is, you can't enjoy every minute. You just had a baby. There isn't a part of your body that doesn't hurt. You have never known this level of exhaustion. Depending on your birth story, you may be recovering from major abdominal surgery or stitches in places you never thought you'd be stitched. Meanwhile, your hormones are plummeting from the highest they've ever been to the lowest. Your body is kicking into gear to start making milk, your breasts are rock hard and painful, and your nipples feel like they are about to fall off.

Breastfeeding is hard. No one warned you about that one, and everyone told you it was "the most natural thing in the world". It isn't, it's a dance to be learned between mother and baby, and you will tread on each other's toes more than a few times while you're learning the new routine.

You'll feel a pang of guilt like you've never known. You'll question every choice you make and wonder if it's the "right one".

You'll keep being inundated with all of that great advice, which will only add to your anxiety and confusion. "You're holding them too much" "You're not holding them enough". You forget that you have this inbuilt superpower called your intuition because it's been silenced by all the other voices and opinions that are so loud. If you could just block those out and listen closely, that little intuitive voice would guide you.

You'll feel like a stranger in your own home when you first walk in the door with your new baby. It will feel comfortable and foreign all at once. You'll immediately begin to notice how everything is the same yet completely different.

And you'll grieve. You'll grieve the loss of your old life. Your independence, being able to do whatever you want, whenever you want. Your body won't feel like it belongs to you anymore, and you'll feel like you exist as nothing more than a bleeding, crying, bloated milk factory.

You'll feel like you're in a never-ending cycle of feed, nappy change, sleep, repeat. You'll wonder if you'll ever get a full night's sleep again. You might even start to think, "what have I done?" and you might just about convince yourself that you're going to have a newborn for the rest of your life.

And then, somewhere around the 6-week mark, you'll crawl out of the newborn cave, and the world will start to look different. After weeks and weeks of giving and giving, you'll be rewarded with the first smile. And for the very first time, you'll think to yourself, "I get it now; this is what they were all talking about."

You've begun the evolution. You start to feel a little less lost and a little more confident. That little intuitive voice is starting to get louder.

You'll believe them when they say, "this too shall pass." You will marvel at your own strength and courage and be proud of how far you have come. You'll realise that your baby wasn't the only thing that was born that day. When you look at your reflection, and for the very first time, you will see a mother looking back at you.

And like the absolute boss that you are, you'll look at your new reflection and say to yourself, "I've got this."