“What I Learned From My First Year of Motherhood”

Perhaps rather naively, I’m not sure how much I thought about being a mother before I became one. Don’t get me wrong, I read the books, attended NCT classes and bought everything everyone tells you to buy, but I had no real clue what lay ahead. Fast forward 12 months, and I now have a beautiful daughter. She’s cheeky and gregarious, full of big cheeks and gappy teeth. This past year has been the most transformational, intense period of my life; my body and mind have been pushed to their extremes. And while it’s true that nothing can really prepare you for life with a baby, here’s what I’ve discovered from my first year of motherhood.

Feeding shouldn’t make you anxious

The only knowledge I had about feeding my baby was from a parenting class where we practised different breastfeeding positions using a doll. I imagined I’d be able to do it, but when my baby lost nearly 10% of her birth weight after five days, alongside me being in agonising pain, a panic alarm went off inside me that didn’t stop for a long time.

I began a cycle of breastfeeding, top-ups with formula or expressed milk and pumping to increase supply, which was low due to a tongue tie not identified at birth. I swung between finding breastfeeding exhausting and all-consuming to feeling like it was the most amazing thing in the world.

What I wish I’d known was that no matter how you decide to feed your baby, it shouldn’t come at the expense of your mental health. (And if you are choosing to breastfeed, it shouldn’t hurt.) Support is there; it’s just often buried amid conflicting advice and waitlists. Push your midwife or health visitor for more support, find your local breastfeeding group and, if you can, seek the help of a lactation consultant.

How your baby sleeps needs to work for you too

In the first few months, my baby slept through everything – heavy metal, the busy London road outside, loud neighbours – peacefully in her cot. Feeding might be up the creek, I thought, but we’ve got a sleeper! And then something changed. At four months, she would wake so regularly it pushed me and my partner to our limit. At one stage it was every 40 minutes, like clockwork, and she wasn’t the only one. Messages on my ‘new mums’ WhatsApp group recounted tales of how friends had walked into walls or locked themselves out of their homes through sheer exhaustion. 

We tried so many things: a sleep consultant, a strict nap schedule, pink noise, white noise, osteopathy, Ewan The Sheep. We co-slept, fed to sleep, shushed and patted until our arms went numb. The list goes on. We even followed the exact same schedule as a friend, whose baby now sleeps through the night… ours doesn’t. And perhaps it’s exactly this. Some babies sleep soundly from the off, some don’t. Some need space; some want to be cuddled all night. I drove myself crazy trying to create the perfect environment and still ended up singing Twinkle Twinkle for the thousandth time at 3am. And it’s not just about them. Ask yourself what you want too. Is co-sleeping for you? Are you better with a schedule? Do you want to sleep train? It’s about finding what works for you as a family until it no longer works and then trying something new.

It’s normal for relationships to change

There’s no doubt relationships change when you throw a baby into the mix – how can they not? We went from date nights, holidays and leisurely Sunday mornings to sleepless nights, high-fiving over dirty nappies and squabbling about who left the stair gate open. Particularly in those first few months, we were both in survival mode with all our energy spent caring for our baby and none left for each other. Yet despite what social media portrays, it’s 100% normal. We’ve gone through one of the most transformational things that’ll ever happen to us, both individually and as a couple. It takes time to learn how to evolve as a family of three and as a couple.

Eleven months in, there are still grumpy exchanges and disagreements, but remembering to treat each other with kindness and empathy goes a long way (easier said than done when you’ve not slept for four days). It’s also important to remember that we’re both still the same idiots underneath it all; we’re just trying to figure out this thing called parenting as best we can.

Be kind to yourself

A few months after I gave birth I caught sight of my reflection in a shop window. I looked exhausted, hadn’t brushed my hair and was a stone heavier. Yes, my body had done something incredible, but part of me just wanted my old self back – and with it, I wanted to reclaim the parts of my identity I’d lost when I became a mum.

What I’ve learned is that navigating our bodies postpartum is confusing – our pre-baby clothes don’t fit, we’re still healing from birth and our hormones are all out of whack. For the first time ever, I taught myself not to see my body for how it looked; I had used it to grow the most spectacular baby and now I needed to allow it the grace to heal in its own time. I try to treat it with kindness and give it the same level of care that I’d give my daughter’s. I ask myself: is this the way I would want her to talk about her body?

Your friends will understand

Seeing old friends hold my daughter has been one of the greatest joys; it’s like she’s a new addition to the gang. However, like romantic relationships, dynamics shift. My free time isn’t just mine; I’m not spontaneous, and sometimes I’m too exhausted to pick up the phone. I’m conscious I’ve been on the other side and know how lame it sounds. But I promise you, true friendships, the ones that last decades, will outlast the dirty nappies and you’ll make your way back to each other.