Parenting
I was elated to leave the hospital the day after Ava was born. It was my first experience in that fine establishment, and I couldn’t wait to return home—away from the incessant beeping of machines and the nurses checking on my every little detail. While Ryan and his family cozied up to our peacefully sleeping, swaddled bundle of joy, I was on a mission, frantically packing our things. It was time to go!
We arrived home in the late afternoon, and everything seemed alright. Ava was peacefully napping in her Pack and Play, and Ryan and I exchanged glances that seemed to say, “Well… now what?” This was bound to be easy, right?
Honestly, I don’t recall much about that first night—do any new moms really remember? What I do remember is heart-wrenching. I was on the couch, both Ava and I in tears, repeating, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this. Someone has to take her back.”
I loved her. I was thrilled she was here, out in the world and not just a figment of my imagination. But oh my goodness, was I terrified. I had no idea what “this” even was, but I felt utterly incapable of handling it.
Here’s the kicker: I had never cared for a baby before. No one handed me a manual. It was like having someone say, “You’ve been a passenger in a car for ten months; now go ahead and drive one home.” That’s absurd!
I felt the same way about bringing this tiny human home. There was no handbook to prepare me for this monumental responsibility. My birth control failed, and Ryan and I decided to trust that the universe thought we could handle parenthood. Then, just like that, I was discharged from the hospital with this precious little girl. Wait, what?
That first night, I felt lost without a map, scared beyond measure, and convinced I couldn’t possibly be a good mother. I thought someone else must know better—someone who could do this whole parenting thing without falling apart.
Somehow, I made it through that night. Then the next. Now Ava is nearly two and a half years old. The fear that I’m not good enough still follows me around like a pesky little dog, barking at my heels whenever I trip up. Motherhood has proven to be the most challenging experience of my life. There are still days when I think, “I can’t do this.” But I never again think, “You have to take her back.”
She is my daughter. My firstborn. My spirited little girl with bright blue eyes. She brings me so much joy, and she’s mine.
Though I still feel uncertain and shaky as I navigate this journey of motherhood, I know that when I tuck her into bed each night and she says, “I love you, Mom,” no one else could raise her as well as I can.
For anyone interested in the journey of parenthood and home insemination, check out this fantastic resource for pregnancy and home insemination. You might also want to read about couples’ fertility journeys that can help you along the way.
In summary, the first night home with a newborn can feel overwhelming and isolating. It’s a whirlwind of love mixed with fear and uncertainty. Over time, you grow into your role, learning that you are more capable than you ever imagined.