Mom Confession: No, I don’t want to hold your baby.
Don’t throw stones yet, hear me out.
I’ve never been an infant person. No one has ever referred to me as a baby whisperer, I’m not the friend to swoop in effortlessly and solve all your sleep-safety concerns and I would lose a swaddling challenge to just about anyone.
Don’t get me wrong, I think sleeping babies are the best snugglers ever. But, as soon as that tiny dictator wakes up, he or she wants something. And, more often than not, it’s something I can’t provide.
Here are a few reasons why I’m not elbowing my way to the front of the line to hold your new bundle of joy:
- Mama Bear is staring at me. I know I’m a mom but I’m not you and I’m probably not offering the exact head support you would like or positioning little Billy at the proper angle so he doesn’t get the hiccups.
- It gives me flashbacks. When I hold a brand-new baby, my uterus doesn’t yearn for another. Rather, it triggers more of a PTSD-like response and suddenly I vividly remember the cracked nipples, projectile milk baths and 2am Amazon orders containing any item that have even a 2% chance of making a single task easier. To this day, the rhythmic sound of a breast pump gives me chills.
- I’m not a natural. You know those moms who hear a baby crying two rooms away and can identify the sound as their child? Yeah. I can’t even say with complete confidence that I would have been able to pick my brand-new baby out of a physical line up at the hospital. Lucky for me, they are labeled.
- Poop. Barf. Enraged screaming. Infants can accomplish all of this at once. Without warning.
To be clear …
- I am so happy for you. Whether it’s your first child or your tenth, I am excited for your growing family. And, as soon as that little nugget is 6+ months old, giggling and responding to my mediocre puppet shows and interpretive Dr. Seuss readings, people will have to fight me for his or her attention.
- The world needs all of you “baby people” out there. I wouldn’t have survived the first several months of motherhood, or pregnancy as a whole for that matter, without family and friends who have more knowledge and patience than I thought possible.
- I’m still here when you need help. Need to get out of the house for a bit? Would love an uninterrupted shower? Date night for your mental health? Gimme dat baby. I promise I am willing and capable, despite my descriptive detailing of the exact opposite above.
So, to all of you who much prefer the pass portion of the “pass the baby” game, you’re not alone. And, to all you baby whisperers out there – don’t leave us. We can’t do it without you. Maybe we will make it up to you during the teenagers years? No promises.