Updated: Feb. 19, 2021
Originally Published: June 1, 2017
Motherhood hit me like a ton of bricks—a whirlwind of love and responsibility that was overwhelming yet precious. From the moment our high-needs baby, Leo, arrived, we were thrust into a reality devoid of the “sleepy newborn” phase, leaving us breathless and unable to settle into any semblance of normalcy. Our baby required our undivided attention and care, which felt suffocating at times.
We weren’t completely naive; we knew parenthood would transform our lives. We understood the demands of a newborn and anticipated sleepless nights. However, in our pre-baby optimism, we mistakenly believed all infants slept soundly in their cribs and wouldn’t cry unless they were hungry or uncomfortable. How wrong we were.
Initially, we adjusted to the chaos with the hope that it would ease over time. But as the days turned into weeks and the intensity didn’t wane, doubts began to creep in, amplified by unsolicited advice from every corner. We started to see our baby’s needs as a battle, struggling against the realities of sleep associations, distinguishing needs from wants, and differentiating between fussiness and genuine demands for attention.
We found ourselves in a state of desperation, yearning to “fix” our baby in hopes of reclaiming our previous lives. It felt like we were swimming against a relentless current. Fortunately, after a grueling six months, I finally found a sense of surrender that reshaped my perspective.
I had often heard that it was acceptable to let things go in those early days of motherhood. However, I had set arbitrary limits on how long this could last. I accepted that I might need assistance while recovering from childbirth, but I believed I should quickly regain control afterward—except during sickness. This unrealistic expectation took a toll on my self-esteem, mood, confidence, and ultimately my bond with Leo.
True surrender meant recognizing that permission to let things slide could extend as long as necessary for me to manage my daily life. With my second child arriving just 20 months after Leo, the combination of a high-needs toddler and a newborn meant it’s only now, three years later, that I’m beginning to regain my footing. The fog has started to lift, and I’m feeling more like myself, not as desperately in need of rest as before.
Not everything fell by the wayside—essential tasks were always prioritized, and we enjoyed fulfilling days. I learned to prioritize rest over chores and outings, and for a long time, that was necessary. I don’t feel ashamed for this; I refuse to succumb to the guilt or societal expectations that suggest I should.
Even though some things may have slipped, my core responsibilities—raising my children, nurturing them, and ensuring my own well-being—remained my priority. I am molding young minds with love, patience, and time. The chores can wait; my energies are devoted to what truly matters.
If we could quantify the value of simply being present for our babies, society would likely rethink its relentless pace. Many days, it may feel like you’ve accomplished nothing, but being your baby’s entire world is more than enough work for any day. Every moment spent holding, comforting, and nurturing your child bears immeasurable significance for them and for your family.
So, grant yourself the freedom to let those less important tasks slide until you feel ready to incorporate them back into your life without sacrificing your peace, rest, or your baby’s needs. You’ve got this, mama.
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Summary
Motherhood can be a challenging journey, especially with a high-needs baby. Embracing the idea of letting certain tasks slide is essential for maintaining mental health and nurturing a strong bond with your child. It’s crucial to prioritize rest and self-care, allowing time to adapt to the demands of parenting without guilt. Ultimately, the most valuable work is simply being there for your baby.