When my little one was just two days old, the pediatrician made a special trip to my hospital room—something I imagine they do for all new moms—to deliver the alarming news: if I brought my baby into bed with me, I could accidentally roll over and smother him in his sleep. “Just don’t do it. Terrible things could happen.”
Terrible? Like smothering him? Yikes. And so it began—the overwhelming fear that comes with being a mother.
Despite the warnings, my baby ended up in bed with us anyway. I was nursing him, and he wanted to eat every hour and a half for what felt like an eternity. Naturally, I would doze off during these feedings. I’d wake up in a panic, visions of that ominous pediatrician swirling in my mind. WHERE IS MY BABY? WHAT HAVE I DONE?
But there he was, peacefully nuzzled against me, sound asleep and breathing steadily.
Fast forward to when he was six months old, and we moved into a brownstone in the dead of winter. It had no heat—well, some heat, but it was freezing! The thought of him freezing in his crib was far scarier than the idea of smothering him, so he began to share our bed.
This is where my nighttime anxieties shifted from, “I might roll over on him,” to “my husband might accidentally suffocate him with a pillow.” “Never let a baby sleep next to anyone but a breastfeeding mother! Only she can instinctively protect the child from rolling over!” I’m paraphrasing, of course, but you get the gist. Parenting books can be quite intense.
As the ever-attentive breastfeeding mom, I thought I was doing well until one night I woke up to find half of my child under my husband’s pillow. My husband was blissfully unaware, fast asleep. Guilt washed over me, and I spent the rest of the night wide awake.
The next day, I tried to cleanse myself of that guilty feeling with a shower. But here’s the kicker: no one warns you how nearly impossible it is to shower with a newborn. Or to use the bathroom, or even make breakfast. It felt like that little human required my undivided attention at all times, lest he vanish into the realm of tragic parenting tales. “That poor baby. If only that selfish mother hadn’t needed to use the bathroom.”
Back then, he was small enough to nap in his car seat without issue. This was before all the warnings surfaced about the dangers of baby naps in car seats. He loved that thing. We had no trouble keeping him in it, and I could rock him to sleep with the adjustment strap.
One day, as I waited for him to doze off, I sprinted to the bathroom for a quick shower. Just a minute in, my maternal instincts kicked in, and I dashed out—naked and dripping—to find my son precariously positioned, half out of the car seat, his chin tucked into his chest as he choked himself.
Seriously? Teenagers manage to keep their babies alive. Have you seen the documentary Babies? Those Mongolian Nomads tie their toddler to a bedpost and leave the little one to watch over the infant while they’re away for the day—and the baby survives! After those scares, I couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with me.
It dawned on me that the pediatrician wasn’t trying to be mean; she was instilling a crucial sense of caution. How else can you convey the weight of keeping another being alive than by suggesting you could smother it in your sleep? Forget the countless hours spent trying to keep this little human happy and thriving—you might just accidentally end its life while sleeping! Welcome to motherhood!
And that’s enough for today. I think I just saw my toddler trying to eat a coin.
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Summary
This article humorously encapsulates the overwhelming fears and challenges of new parenthood, from breastfeeding struggles to the constant worry of keeping a baby safe. It highlights the emotional rollercoaster of motherhood, all while navigating the chaos of daily life with a newborn.