The things I wish I’d known

My brother and his wife welcomed their beautiful baby girl Grace this week, the latest addition to our expanding gang. I’ve looked up to my brother for as long as I can remember, so – being a few months further into being a parent – it’s nice to be the one able to offer him some support for a change as they embark on these bonkers first few weeks with a baby.

Grace’s arrival takes me back to giving birth, those surreal first few moments and hours after delivery and the days and weeks that followed. They’re somewhat hazy as I think about our now nearly five month old, who is already so much her own little person. But I’m still close enough to recall some of the detail between the sheer joy, excitement, anxiety and exhaustion that comprises the biggest emotional rollercoaster life surely has to offer: new parenthood. Or maybe just parenthood in general. 

When speaking to others currently expecting their first little bundle of joy, Tom and I have slightly different views on how much to disclose about having a baby. Tom believes in an unedited version of the truth. Say it as it is, prepare them as much as possible, give them the worst-case scenario and let them be pleasantly surprised on the off chance they’re lucky enough to eat/ sleep/ relax at all for the foreseeable future. He often delivers all this with a grave expression on his face, as if it’s the diagnosis of a terminal illness. I prefer to let them find out what’s what for themselves. Because I think it’s better to be surprised, plus it’s too late for them anyway: the baby has bolted. But mostly because the hardships tend to be dwarfed by the enormous amount of love you have for these mini people.

With all that in mind, I’ve been thinking about the things I wish I’d known – or at least taken on board – before Ruby came along (a heads up about the impending low budget dystopian future movie-style pandemic aside):   

Sleep. Whenever possible.
I was pumped full of adrenalin after I give birth around 9pm and the last thing I felt able to do was sleep. I laid in the hospital bed wide awake with a snoring Tom on the floor next to me, staring at then unnamed Ruby through the plastic hospital cot, unable to believe she was here, and that she was a she. I got up to check she was breathing at least three times, and probably slept all of two hours that night. I didn’t realise that the next few days and weeks would be the most physically and emotionally exhausting of my life and that I would need all the rest I could get right then.

Once you’re back home, everyone who has had kids tells you to sleep when the baby sleeps, and with good reason. Did I listen? Of course not. Don’t try to be clever. Now isn’t the time to do something entertaining or productive, or to scroll through social media (or start a blog). Let the house collapse around your sleeping self on the sofa if necessary, let the Instagram stories go unwatched, because no-one knows where the next shut eye is coming from. So just bloody sleep.

Feeding might not be as easy as you think.
I was caught off guard by how difficult breastfeeding was – I was clueless to be honest. I thought nature would take over and it would just happen. But Ruby and I were the opposite of ducks to water – there seemed to be nothing natural about it. It would take at least three weeks to breastfeed with any kind of ease, and in those weeks I veered between anxiety, guilt, contentment, periods of ‘getting it’ and utter confusion. Feeding really is an emotive matter and the source of much discussion in our ‘Bump & Baby’ ante natal group. So much so that one member, upon loaning a Ghost Busters-esque pumping device from the hospital, suggested we rebrand to ‘Pump & Baby’.

Eventually Tom and I combined breastfeeding Ruby with formula feeding and that’s worked pretty well for us. Ultimately, knowing she is fed and cared for is the main priority. I wish I had piled less pressure on myself to do it a certain way.  

It genuinely is all a phase.
Colic is the work of the devil. Around three to four weeks our relatively zen baby was transformed into a screaming banshee. She’d scrunch up in pain as big gas bubbles worked their way through her tiny body, face purple, eyes staring pleadingly as if begging us to make it stop. What the hell was happening? Her digestive system was developing, duh. It passed a few weeks later, but at the time it seemed it would never end. She doesn’t remember the ordeal. And to be honest I barely do either.

Things change fast.
It’s hard to believe Ruby hasn’t always been the way she is today – clear about what she wants, engaging, entertaining and responsive. When I look back at photos I feel very grateful for them given my failure to remember her as anything other than who she is right now. So take all the pictures and – even better – videos. And then put your phone down, because she’s more interesting than anything else on there.

You’re still you.
At first your baby will eclipse everything. I remember Tom giving me a hug in the kitchen a few days after Ruby was born and I realised it was the first hug I’d had from him in what seemed like forever. I felt a bit like I’d been replaced by a cuter, much more cuddly version of myself. And I didn’t blame him – I wanted to hug her above anyone else too.

Fast forward to one night recently when I jumped walking into our room, surprised to see a sleeping baby in there. I’d become engrossed in a couple of episodes of Little Fires Everywhere after dinner and momentarily forgot we were parents, so quiet had Ruby been on the old ‘monny’. Of course (momentary memory lapse aside) our life now revolves around Ruby – she is our world and always will be. But Tom and I also debate loads of stuff like we did before. We take the piss out of each other. We hug on the reg again. I’m still me and we’re still us, just a little bit more responsible (and tired).

With all the above said, I’m not sure how much this post will help my brother and sister in law – or anyone else embarking on parenthood – because all this same advice went in one ear and out the other when it was given to me. Like most things, it’s only by going through it yourself that you figure out what it is you need to know. And that, in itself, is one of the best bits about it.  

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P.S. If you’ve got any new parenting wisdom I’d love to hear it. I know I’ve missed a load of good stuff out. Please share away in the comments below… x