The day after Ava was born, I could hardly contain my excitement as we prepared to leave the hospital. This was my first experience in such a facility, and I longed to escape the constant interruptions from medical staff monitoring my blood pressure and checking on my recovery. As my partner, Mark, and his family admired our peacefully sleeping baby, I hurriedly packed our belongings—the time to head home had arrived.
We returned in the late afternoon, and all seemed well. Ava settled into her Pack and Play in our bedroom, and Mark and I exchanged glances that seemed to say, “What now?” Surely, this would be straightforward, right?
I don’t recall much about that first night—perhaps no new parent truly does—but what sticks with me is profoundly emotional. I remember sitting on the couch with Ava, both of us in tears, and I kept repeating, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this. Someone needs to take her back.”
I loved her dearly. I was thrilled she was here in the world, not confined to the realm of my pregnancy. Yet, fear gripped me. I felt overwhelmed and ill-equipped for the journey ahead. It was as if I had been a passenger in a car for ten months, suddenly handed the keys to a vehicle I had never driven before. It’s hard to imagine someone allowing that to happen—it would be reckless.
Bringing Ava home felt just as daunting. There was no guidebook to prepare me for this monumental responsibility. No practice baby to care for before I was entrusted with my own. My birth control had failed, Mark and I had decided to embrace this challenge, and then I had delivered our daughter into the hands of the doctor. That was the extent of my preparation.
Now, I was tasked with nurturing this new life? What were they thinking?
That first night, I felt terrified, alone, and devoid of direction, as if I were navigating a labyrinth without a map. I was convinced I was unfit for motherhood and believed someone more capable should take over.
But I survived that night and the following one. Fast forward to today, and Ava is nearly two and a half years old. The nagging feeling of inadequacy still shadows me, manifesting like an anxious puppy at my heels whenever I stumble. Motherhood has proven to be the most challenging endeavor of my life—far more taxing than I had ever anticipated. There are still moments where I whisper to myself, “I can’t do this.”
However, I no longer think, “Someone needs to take her back,” as I did that first night. Ava is my daughter, my firstborn, and she brings immense joy into my life.
As I guide her through her day, I still feel uncertain and unsteady on this path of parenthood. Yet, when I tuck her into her big girl bed, tell her I love her, and she responds with “I love you, Mom,” I realize that no one else could raise her better than I can.
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Summary
The journey of new parenthood is often fraught with uncertainty and fear, particularly during that first night home with a newborn. As mothers navigate feelings of inadequacy and overwhelming responsibility, the love for their child can provide reassurance and purpose. Despite the challenges, the bond formed with their child becomes an irreplaceable source of strength.
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