Sleep Isn’t a Guarantee
“Sleep when the baby sleeps” sounds nice in theory, but let’s be honest it rarely works that way. Sometimes the laundry needs folding. Sometimes your brain won’t shut off. Sometimes you just want a moment alone that doesn’t involve drool or a diaper.
The exhaustion hits hard. It’s not just tired it’s bone deep fatigue that blurs days and makes simple decisions feel impossible. And when rest isn’t an option, survival means adjusting the expectations.
What helped? Power naps, even if they were only 10 minutes. Tag teaming with my partner so we traded off feedings or chores. And learning to actually ask for help, which was harder than I expected. I had to drop the pride and let people show up whether it was someone watching the baby for an hour or dropping off a meal.
Rest came in scraps, not stretches. But those scraps added up. And over time, I stopped chasing perfect sleep and started collecting real recovery, one small window at a time.
You Have to Redefine “Productive”
Before becoming a mom, a good day meant crossing five, maybe ten tasks off a packed to do list. Now? If I get a load of laundry folded or just remembered to eat lunch that’s a victory. Because the truth is, your baby sets the pace, not your planner.
It took me a while to stop measuring success by the old standards. At first, I’d feel frustrated when the day slipped by and my checklist was untouched. But slowly, I started counting the real wins: calming a crying newborn, managing two hours of sleep in a row, making it through a feeding without spilling milk everywhere.
The guilt still shows up. It whispers that I should be doing more. But I try to hit pause on that noise. Productivity looks different now. It looks like showing up when I’m exhausted. Like adapting to chaos. Like taking a ten minute shower and calling it a recharge. These may be small things on paper but they’re not small things when you’re in it. One shift in perspective at a time, I’m learning to celebrate what matters today, not what just looks good on a list.
Not All Advice Is Good Advice
One of the first things you realize as a new mom is that advice comes at you fast unsolicited, unfiltered, and often outdated. Everyone means well, but there’s no one size fits all manual for parenting, and yet people talk like there is. I felt pulled in every direction: co sleeping vs. crib, feed every three hours vs. let them lead, cry it out vs. cuddle through it. Eventually, something had to give. So I started listening less to others and more to my own gut.
Old school parenting tips? Some helped. A lot didn’t. And trying to follow all of them just made me more anxious. What worked was starting to notice what actually clicked with my baby and our rhythm, not someone else’s memory of the ‘right way.’
Finding real support meant narrowing who I turned to not the loudest voices, but the ones who asked questions instead of pushing answers. A few other first time parents, my pediatrician, and my own instincts became the circle I trusted.
If you’re deep in the chaos and confusion, you’re not alone. And you don’t need to take every piece of well meaning advice seriously. You just need to find what works for you and your baby. Here’s a bit more on how I navigated that early journey: first time parent journey.
Losing Yourself Can Be Too Easy
No one tells you how fast it happens. One day you’re yourself, and the next you’re just “mom.” Everything your schedule, your decisions, even your body starts to orbit around someone else. It’s not dramatic at first. You just start putting your needs on hold. You stop taking time for hobbies or unwind routines. Your name gets replaced by a title.
The scary part? You get used to it.
For a while, I didn’t even notice how much of myself I’d shelved. Everyone says motherhood is selfless, but it shouldn’t be self erasing. What helped wasn’t huge, life altering stuff. It started with stealing back ten minutes a day. A walk around the block. Locking the bathroom door and just breathing. Journaling a few honest lines without having to explain them to anyone.
What surprised me most was how small things created space for the bigger conversations. I started talking to my partner again not just about baby stuff, but about real things, us things. I talked with friends like a person, not just a parent. Bit by bit, I remembered who I was before “mom” and who I still am underneath it.
None of that makes me less of a mother. But it helps me be a fuller one.
Connection Over Perfection
Scrolling through social media during those early months felt like walking into a world where every mom had spotless floors, a full face of makeup, and babies who never cried. Meanwhile, I was in yoga pants for the third day straight, my coffee was cold, and I couldn’t remember when I’d last eaten something that wasn’t toast or leftover mac and cheese. The pressure to post the perfect family moment is real but it’s also a trap.
Truth is, parenting isn’t about getting everything right. It’s about being there half awake, a little messy, but fully present. The best memories haven’t come from picture perfect scenarios. They’ve come from middle of the night feedings when my husband and I whispered jokes to keep each other awake. Or when my baby laughed at a silly face I made while forgetting the camera was even in the room.
Real relationships aren’t curated. They’re built in the blur, in the pauses, in the quiet looks that say, “We’re doing the best we can.” Perfection never made me feel closer to my kid but presence did.
For more, here’s a deeper look at real parenting lessons: first time parent journey
Letting Go of the Plan
Almost nothing went how I thought it would. Labor was long, painful, and nowhere near what the birthing classes had prepped me for. The so called “routine” I mapped out for sleep and feeding? Gone by week two. I had charts. I had Pinterest boards. I still ended up rocking a baby at 3 a.m. with spit up in my hair and no idea what day it was.
What I didn’t expect was how essential flexibility would become. It’s a muscle I didn’t know I had to build. Letting go of the plan wasn’t a defeat it was survival. I stopped trying to get back on track and started listening: to my baby, to my body, to the reality of each day.
There were moments I worried I was losing myself by surrendering so much control. But slowly, I realized that flexibility wasn’t giving up. It was learning how to bend without breaking. That’s how I stayed grounded. That’s how I stayed me.
If You’re In It Now, You’re Not Alone
There were nights I thought would never end. Days that felt like fog. Moments when I was sure I wasn’t cut out for this after all. But every phase passed even the ones that felt endless. Teething stopped. Sleep came back. I laughed more, cried less.
Somewhere in the chaos, strength showed up. Not all at once, and never in the way I expected. But the grit I thought I didn’t have? I built it. One 3am feeding at a time. One meltdown at a time. It wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t poetic but it was real.
So if you’re in it now, deep in the thick of it, here’s what I’ll tell you: ask the messy questions. Trust your gut, even when it’s whispering. Show up how you can. Perfect isn’t the goal. Real is.
You’re not alone even when it feels like you are.
