Recently, I’ve been chatting with my oldest son, who is an energetic 4-year-old, about our upcoming addition to the family. I want him to grasp what to expect so that the transition isn’t overwhelming. We often talk about the changes that are on the horizon, how we’ll all need to adjust, and what the baby’s needs will be like—how the baby will cry and sleep often, and how he can help as the big brother.
Just yesterday, he wanted to feel the baby kicking in my belly. As he placed his small hand on my bump, he earnestly explained to his little brother how much crying and sleeping he would do, and that it would be our job to teach him everything about the world. I couldn’t help but smile, delighted that he was absorbing our discussions.
Then, out of the blue, he asked me, “Mommy, did things change for you after I came out of your tummy?”
I found myself momentarily speechless. How could I explain such a profound question to a preschooler? I wanted to convey that my life was completely turned upside down by motherhood. In that fleeting moment when he entered the world, I felt an overwhelming sense of love and responsibility that was unlike anything I had ever experienced.
I wished to share how, during those first few minutes after delivery, when he wasn’t breathing and NICU doctors rushed in, time seemed to stretch indefinitely. I was terrified, shouting at the medical team as they worked diligently on him, feeling more anxiety than I had ever known. When his first cries finally pierced the silence, they were the sweetest sounds I ever heard, and relief washed over me like a warm embrace.
I wanted him to understand my fears—fears of making mistakes, worries about whether he was eating enough, and anxiety as I watched him sleep for hours, gently touching his cheek to ensure he was still breathing. I felt unworthy of the incredible gift of having this perfect little human in my life, scared that something would inevitably go wrong.
I longed to express how challenging motherhood could be—feeding schedules, sleepless nights, tracking diaper changes, obsessing over every cough and rash, crying over endless colic, and grappling with new parent anxiety. It felt so isolating at times.
I aimed to explain how my priorities shifted drastically. One of my closest friends had mentioned that my heart had changed, and it was true—nothing mattered more to me than my son. Suddenly, I found it easy to overlook a messy house, leave work on time, and turn down happy hour invitations just to spend more time with him.
I wanted my son to grasp that I would never sleep as soundly as I used to. I would tiptoe into his room at night just to check on him and frantically search Google in bed for answers about everything from cradle cap to preschools. If he was out with his dad and they were running late, panic would set in. I missed him even while he was sleeping and often found myself sitting in his room just to be close to him. I secretly cherished when he crawled into our bed at night.
I wanted to share the frustrations of parenthood—how my once unshakeable professional confidence was rocked by this little person who didn’t care about my achievements. Trying to reason with a toddler is often futile. I couldn’t control his moods or behavior, no matter how hard I tried.
I also wanted him to know that I never planned on having more children. We were unsure about having a second child, relieved at how well he fit into our lives, and the journey through pregnancy wasn’t easy for me. But our love for him was so immense that we desired to give him a sibling. I couldn’t imagine him growing up without family beyond just his father and me.
I needed to tell him how I worried I could never love another child as much as I loved him. Even before his brother was born, guilt crept in. Then, miraculously, when his sibling arrived, I felt the same deep love and joy; my heart expanded to accommodate both of them.
It pains me to watch the two of them play together, and sometimes I find myself eavesdropping on their conversations. I melt when I hear him tell his little brother that “family always sticks together.” Even their mischievous plans bring me joy long after they’ve been disciplined and have gone to bed.
Most importantly, I want to affirm what my friend told me—that my heart truly did change when I became a mother. I will never be the same. My life has been realigned, with my sons at the top of my priorities. Every emotion now feels more intense. He carries a piece of my heart with him, and he was the first, the catalyst for everything that followed.
As my son looked up at me, I smiled and nodded. “They sure did, sweetie. Everything changed.”
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Summary
Motherhood profoundly transforms one’s heart and life, reshaping priorities, emotions, and connections. The journey is filled with love, anxiety, and challenges, highlighting the deep bond between parent and child.