In elementary school, I was the smarty-pants kid who got 100 on her spelling tests and 99 on math, plus the two points of extra credit. While I felt super cool pulling my sticker-adorned papers out of my backpack to show my beaming parents, I quickly learned a cold, hard truth: no one at school wanted that A++ rubbed in their face. So when we had assignments returned, I quickly flipped mine face down, turned beet red and muttered to classmates that I “did OK.”
Fast forward a couple decades – and please don’t punch me in the face.
I had an easy pregnancy. My minimal morning sickness was easily managed with a nibble of a graham cracker. I gained 23 pounds, all in my belly. I went for my last preggo jog at 39 weeks. And on my due date, I adamantly denied being in labor for the afternoon, then walked myself into Labor and Delivery and pushed out a baby 45 minutes later. Standing up.
And then I had an “easy baby” (as if that truly exists). She liked her milk, and she figured out how to get it pretty quick. She went right back to sleep after eating. She didn’t cry often, for long or for no apparent reason. By six weeks, she slept in her own room. By eight, nighttime feedings were a thing of the past.
But I started to dread The Question – you know the one: “Is the baby sleeping through the night?”
Because she was.
But unlike acing a book report, having an easy baby isn’t a feat of skill – it’s basically luck. And as awesome as it is, I felt guilty, embarrassed even, and totally weird saying yes to a toddler-mama friend who literally hasn’t had a full night of sleep in two years.
If you have an easy baby, you have a fine line to walk between raising your hands to the sky in a big, fat hallelujah and being a supportive mama-friend to those traveling a rougher road.
- Talk about the stuff that’s universal. Easier babies exist; easy ones don’t. My kid still blew out diapers, could projectile spit-up the length of a football field and spent her ninth month of life an insomniac – just like she was supposed to. Telling the story of how you spent all yesterday morning with a dollop of poo on your nose (#parenthood) will surely send you both into a fit of laughter and commiseration.
- Ask her advice. We know mamas are wise, and challenges only make us wiser. After saying that yes, your munchkin is sleeping through the night, quickly transition to an area you could use some sage wisdom – like how to transition to naps in the crib. A mama who’s been there will share her tricks and feel good doing it.
- Give a mama hope. When your exhausted friend looks you in the eye and asks whether this will get easier, you’re in a powerful position to truthfully tell her yes. Yes, bodies heal from growing and birthing babies. Yes, babies eventually sleep. Yes, all babies are different.
I’m thankful for a relatively smooth journey so far, oh-so-aware that not all of them are. And I also know that an easy baby does not necessarily make for an easy toddler.
Or teenager.
2 comments
The funny thing is, I’m afraid to even ‘like’ this article on my FB page for fear that people will see it in their newsfeed and think:”oh figures…bit@h…hope her next baby is a terror…etc etc.” you get the point. I keep thinking that my next baby is going to be absolutely difficult because this one was so much “easier” than others I have known (I love the “easiER” by the way, since we know no baby is easy).
While it IS luck in many cases (or is it? Do we know genetics? Family history, pregnancy, mental health, diet etc etc–but those are topics for another day) , I know that I also worked my a$$ off creating routines my baby jived with while trying so hard to tune into my baby’s personality and what HE needed, not necessarily what all the books, blogs, and moms groups said was appropriate for his age. And if my next baby is what society deems as “fussy” I’m still going to try my damndest to tune in and get him/her what he/she needs. That said, it says a lot about our culture when we have to be so self-deprecating to ease others’ emotions when often times, they are the first to offend us in some other way in regards to parenting. And while it’s true you can be “lucky” for some people it is also just a little easier to “read” the signs of baby. Maybe the luck has to do with the fact that some people just don’t have all the same stressors that some do. Some people have more time, some people have less time. Just like no two babies are alike, no two parents’ circumstances and relationships while raising them are either. And I believe that is the taboo many don’t want to talk about because of fear that “less or no experience,” “working vs non-working,” “help vs no help” makes them bad parents. It’s Ok to admit you don’t know what you’re doing or that you don’t have the resources others do, but everyone is too proud, and that’s where the shaming, guilt, and criticism comes into play. Phew! Okay, that felt good to get off my chest.
Love this! I felt so awkward when my fellow mama friends would gripe about sleep, colic, feeding, being exhausted etc- I just couldn’t relate. I even lied sometimes because I felt uncomfortable being like “nope, I’m actually not overwhelmed, this parenting thing is WAY easier than I anticipated” 😉 But alas, he’s almost 2 now and 10x more challenging than (it seems) most other toddlers. He’s into biting, is insanely active and kind of aggressive… he’s pretty much making up for lost time!