When you're a pregnant, you anticipate the moment you get to hold that child in your arms. You insist you're ready, but when your water breaks you go into a state of panic. You claim you will never forget labour pain, which you do instantly. All of these things you can read in books. Motherhood is a whole new story - it's not just the sleep deprivation, the changes your body has to reverse, the hours of inconsolable crying or the hundreds upon hundreds of dollars this new little being needs. As a new mother you will experience some form of OCD, (in a comical form, not the serious disorder form) you develop a fixation with several things concerning your baby, mine have become purchasing, counting and thinking.
Compulsive Purchasing ...just in case! I think every first-time mother enjoys buying little outfits, happily anticipating this amazing little being that is soon going to be their heart walking outside of their body. I'm absolutely certain the first package of purchased diapers seems like a milestone, and a good deal on a case of baby wipes was a breakthrough - but after a few months into my pregnancy (and the confirmation that it was NOT a girl, but yes, a boy) things got out of hand, and even after he was here, it got more horrific.
At any point in time I enter a store where there is a baby section (grocery store included!), in my brain it is truly the only reason for coming in. I browse amongst the same things I have seen five thousand times, and insist "he needs this!" to anyone who is accompanying me, before tossing it in a cart. This got to the point where I was buying two of the same outfit in different sizes because I liked it so much. Thankfully not to the point where the closet was all but four outfits in every size you could purchase it, but if I claim to "absolutely adore" something he's wearing, you can bet I have the same thing in at least another size bigger.
I do realize that there is never going to be a point where every child clothing manufacturer shuts down, and I'm left to wrap my child in rags or over sized adult clothes, but it doesn't click in my head.
My baby now has 10 bottles (that we will never use), 6 different brands of pacifiers (5 of which he hates and spits out immediately), over 100 outfits (of just the ones he hasn't grown out of yet), and a diaper stash of up to size 5 (he is still in size 1).
Surprisingly still have money in my pocket!
Compulsive Counting.. everything. I could become a mathematician with the amount of adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing I do a day. Recounting, counting again. How many mL of water versus how many mL of concentrate formula. How many bottles. How many ounces per feeding. The last time he ate, and the number of hours until he eats again. How many hours of sleep he gets a day. How many hours of sleep he doesn't get a day. How many minutes of tummy time he gets and how many he should be getting. How many months, weeks, days, hours old he is. How many cases of formula I have stashed away in case something catastrophic happens. How many times he smiles, laughs, stares, cries, moves, and blinks a day. How many days I have until I leave him to go back to work. Calculations, calculations. Never-ending calculations.
Compulsive Thinking ... about all the things that can go wrong. I was never this kind of person in my entire life. I'm one of those glass-is-half-full kind of people. That's until I became a mom. You find yourself checking and double checking his breathing at night. You find yourself reading baby books on advice of what to do when they cry (because they might be seriously harmed!) and every bad thought flows through your head - because what if? And then there are the not so scary things, but still hard for a mom - what if I miss the first time he crawls, or stands, or walks, or speaks? What if I have some other obligation when he has a school play, concert or bake sale? I guess the best thing I can do is hope for the best, keep him safe and smile.
To other people, I look a little mentally incompetent - to other mothers, this is normal.
How life-changing is having a baby? More than people who are without children will ever know.
Compulsive Purchasing ...just in case! I think every first-time mother enjoys buying little outfits, happily anticipating this amazing little being that is soon going to be their heart walking outside of their body. I'm absolutely certain the first package of purchased diapers seems like a milestone, and a good deal on a case of baby wipes was a breakthrough - but after a few months into my pregnancy (and the confirmation that it was NOT a girl, but yes, a boy) things got out of hand, and even after he was here, it got more horrific.
At any point in time I enter a store where there is a baby section (grocery store included!), in my brain it is truly the only reason for coming in. I browse amongst the same things I have seen five thousand times, and insist "he needs this!" to anyone who is accompanying me, before tossing it in a cart. This got to the point where I was buying two of the same outfit in different sizes because I liked it so much. Thankfully not to the point where the closet was all but four outfits in every size you could purchase it, but if I claim to "absolutely adore" something he's wearing, you can bet I have the same thing in at least another size bigger.
I do realize that there is never going to be a point where every child clothing manufacturer shuts down, and I'm left to wrap my child in rags or over sized adult clothes, but it doesn't click in my head.
My baby now has 10 bottles (that we will never use), 6 different brands of pacifiers (5 of which he hates and spits out immediately), over 100 outfits (of just the ones he hasn't grown out of yet), and a diaper stash of up to size 5 (he is still in size 1).
Surprisingly still have money in my pocket!
Compulsive Counting.. everything. I could become a mathematician with the amount of adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing I do a day. Recounting, counting again. How many mL of water versus how many mL of concentrate formula. How many bottles. How many ounces per feeding. The last time he ate, and the number of hours until he eats again. How many hours of sleep he gets a day. How many hours of sleep he doesn't get a day. How many minutes of tummy time he gets and how many he should be getting. How many months, weeks, days, hours old he is. How many cases of formula I have stashed away in case something catastrophic happens. How many times he smiles, laughs, stares, cries, moves, and blinks a day. How many days I have until I leave him to go back to work. Calculations, calculations. Never-ending calculations.
Compulsive Thinking ... about all the things that can go wrong. I was never this kind of person in my entire life. I'm one of those glass-is-half-full kind of people. That's until I became a mom. You find yourself checking and double checking his breathing at night. You find yourself reading baby books on advice of what to do when they cry (because they might be seriously harmed!) and every bad thought flows through your head - because what if? And then there are the not so scary things, but still hard for a mom - what if I miss the first time he crawls, or stands, or walks, or speaks? What if I have some other obligation when he has a school play, concert or bake sale? I guess the best thing I can do is hope for the best, keep him safe and smile.
To other people, I look a little mentally incompetent - to other mothers, this is normal.
How life-changing is having a baby? More than people who are without children will ever know.
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