Grace for the Fourth Trimester

The following practical nuggets are what I wish I could go back and tell my new-mom self ten years ago, having done the newborn phase thrice now.

1. Steal stuff from the hospital. The extra mesh panties, the canoe-sized pads, the good witch hazel pads, the water squirt bottle, the big water jug with the straw: steal it all. You already paid thousands for these things, and no one will raise an eyebrow at the overflowing bags you’re carrying on the way out.

2. Put your clocks in a locked closet, literally or figuratively. If routine and having a schedule in mind helps you feel oriented and grounded, that’s wonderful, but you really cannot control when the baby sleeps or not (sorry, you just can’t). And time is just a construct for those who want to be efficient with it. Better to move at the “speed of love.”

3. You are not a rubber band. You do not need to “bounce back.” You are a child of God, so let your body take up as much space as it needs for as long as it needs. Wear your relaxers all day, every day if you want to: robes, pajamas, comfy nightgowns, sweatshirts from high school. Let yourself be squishy, both physically and emotionally. Or if popping on a dress and a little lip color makes you feel human, do that. But just know that you don’t have to.

4. Feed the baby. And remember that no matter how you do it, you are beloved. No matter what the momfluencers (or a passive aggressive great-aunt who didn’t lack for lactation and whose right boob alone could allegedly fill a KitchenAid mixing bowl) might say, your worth is not tied to whether you pump exclusively, breastfeed, use formula, or a combination of all of the above. Just feed the baby. And burp it.

5. ‘Tis the damn season. Call it a domestic jubilee. Forget your carbon footprint for a hot minute: use the paper plates, call in DoorDash again, place several Prime orders for overnight delivery. You do not need to handwash all the bottle or pump parts; having a big bowl of hot, soapy water live perpetually to one side of the sink gives you the space to dunk things in throughout the day and loosen the milk or formula leftovers. Then rinse and pop into the dishwasher; let the appliance do its intended work. Allow yourself to be and do things differently. Let the laundry pile up, your hair grow greasy, the texts go unanswered. This really won’t last forever. I promise.

6. Put a cooler on your porch. This is both practical and a symbolic picture of boundaries. If people want to help, they can drop off a meal or a hot coffee. You do not need to accept visitors until you are ready, and then limit their time to 30 minutes: “I’d love for you to come by from 1 to 1:30.”

7. Do not write thank you notes. By the power vested in me by Mockingbird, I hereby relieve you from writing them. If people drop a meal or give a baby gift and expect a handwritten expression of your eternal gratitude, it wasn’t a gift. Do not feel bad about it.

8. Binge Gilmore Girls. Or The Walking Dead. Or Friday Night Lights. Or The OC. “Veg out. Lay like broccoli.” There’s no report card for maternity leave. You’re raising a human — not building a resume.

9. Read precisely one parenting book. Just enough to help you feel equipped and confident. But the more voices you let in, the more confusing it becomes, the more you’ll feel judged by all the “shoulds.” They all say different things anyway. Baby 411 covers a lot and is easy breezy to reference.

10. Take a shower. Or once you’re cleared for them, a nice bath. You will feel better. A tall glass of water and some sunlight can go a long way, too.

11. You might hate it. It’s okay if this season is not your favorite. The newborn phase can often be romanticized; you are not less of a mother if you hate it and want to be on the other side of it.

12. Lean on family (or don’t!). A mother-in-law who offers to stay for a month can be a godsend — or a burdensome house guest you have to “manage.” Best to have a conversation with your partner in crime about how and when to call in and accept specific family reinforcements.

13. Rely on your text threads. If you can, find a few moms in the same season with whom you can vent, laugh, and cry, if needed. Or to simply ask, “What do I do if the baby …?” If you don’t have a friend or mom you can text (or even if you do!), think about professionals you can hire or lean on to support you: lactation consultant, postpartum doula, pediatrician, night nurse. Ask your OB for recommendations.

14. Messy moments make for the best stories. (And the baby won’t remember anyways). A massive blowout during the baptism brunch makes for superb rehearsal dinner material someday. It might shock your brunch guests and leave you feeling a little sheepish about your diaper-changing skills, but movies where everything goes according to plan are super lame.

15. Welcome to the parenting party! It’s the best gig. And when in doubt, get yourself a snack. I recommend hot Cheetos.