An open letter to newly expectant friends

I just learned, this past weekend, that two good friends of ours are expecting a child in December. (Out of respect for their privacy, I will call them Sid and Nancy.)

Because this was a decision that they considered carefully over many years, as Joe and I did, and because Nancy hadn’t ever been one of those women with a lifelong, burning desire for children (as had been true for me, too), I thought I’d offer my own take on what may lie ahead for them.

Dear Sid and Nancy:

First, congratulations again! I know you’re in shock, and that this all seems abstract to you. I, too, had just barely arrived, after years of deliberation, at the point of being ready to “try” when BOOM!! It happened immediately. I had been kind of hoping for some time for “trying” to sink in, but happening fast is better than the alternative, of course; so look at it this way: you have several months to get used to the idea.

But the whole “feeling abstract” thing won’t go away until the baby actually arrives. Despite hearing the heartbeat, feeling occasional kicking, getting huge, etc., the whole thing seems too bizarre to be real.

And during and after the pregnancy, please beware of the baby industrial complex. There are a LOT of people out there dying to convince you that you need this class, this toy, this blanket, this music CD, etc. in order to have a thriving child and be a good parent, and it’s all-too-easy to get sucked into the consumption vortex. 95 percent of that stuff, of course, is unnecessary garbage. As much as you can, keep it simple. All your child really needs, at least initially, is both of you.

Which brings me to my next point: on the very hardest days of new babydom, end it by telling yourself: the baby’s is fed, clean, sheltered, and safe. Those are the minimum requirements, and if you’ve fufilled those items, the rest doesn’t matter – even if you found yourself screaming like a banshee at said newborn.

And you will. No matter how patient you consider yourself to be, don’t be surprised when, after being very zen while trying everything you can think of to comfort your wailing newborn, you let loose with your own barbaric yawp. It happens to the best of us. And though your vocal chords will protest, and you’ll chasten yourself and feel guilty about it, the baby won’t remember it. Only you will, and it’s always much harder to let go of things on your end than it is for the baby. He or she will wake up to a brand new day with no memory. You might still have a grudge, but you’ll have to give it up.

And when people offer to help, no matter how casual the offer seems, TAKE THEM UP ON IT, particularly since you’ll be far from family. We had neighbors and friends lending us a hand quite often, and it makes a huge difference.

Sid, because you’ll probably return to work long before Nancy, you should relieve her for an hour or two when you get home. I know you two are truly equal partners in your marriage, so this may be redundant to even say – but Nancy will desperately need that break in order to maintain a sense of herself and her own body, particularly if she decides to nurse.

Nancy, regarding nursing, try not to put too much pressure on yourself. The baby will be fine, no matter what you decide. Some women try nursing and hate it and end it early on; some love it like nothing else. It’s one of those things you can’t know until you’re in the situation. But remember that nursing isn’t some litmus test for good mothering.

And DO take those breaks when Sid comes home. I can’t stress this enough.

Both of you, of course, have taken time to do what you want for several years before having kids, just as Joe and I did. Indeed, that was the only way I’d be willing to make the sacrifices necessary to have a child, I knew. And your lives will inevitably change – but assess, during these coming months, the activities and hobbies that are most important to you; the ones you can hang onto, perhaps in a slightly altered form. Joe and I don’t do everything we used to; but we still manage to do quite a bit, thanks to our commitment to support each other. 

Inevitably, this means we don’t get to do some things that we liked to do as a couple together anymore, which I miss; but Lily is worth it.

I won’t lie to you: the baby phase was not my favorite part. The impenetrability is maddening at times. You can’t communicate with the baby, and vice versa, and you’re both bound to feel trapped by this disconnect. But hang in there. Parenting has gotten more and more fun as Lily’s gotten older, to the point that now, she’s a ball.

Lastly, I’d say that although decisions like where to put your baby in daycare seem nearly impossible when you’re new to this whole game, the fact is that nothing is permanent – and this should be a source of comfort. If you decide to go with one place, and you find you don’t like things about it, you can always switch to a different situation. Nothing’s set in stone, so don’t fear that a wrong decision will doom your poor child forever.

I’m so happy for you both, and I look forward to meeting your little one when he/she arrives! Just remember that you can, and should, find your own parenting path. There’s no right way, and if something makes you uncomfortable, don’t do it. (For me, for instance, I skipped the whole childbirthing class thing and just got some DVDs, and they did the job.) So that’s my two cents – though I may find I have more cents to offer in the future…

Hope your pregnancy goes smoothly. Enjoy the desserts along the way!