When I was pregnant, Matt and I constantly told ourselves and anyone else who would ask that our goal was simply to be adequate parents. We didn’t need to be perfect parents. We weren’t trying to win any competitions. And we knew there was a pretty huge learning curve to this whole new adventure so we tried to remain realistic.

When we would tell people that this was our goal, they would giggle and smile and then we would move on to something else, but it was never a joke to Matt and me. Yes, we would do everything we could to become educated about the drastic changes that were coming. Yes, we would keep him safe and fed. And, yes, we understood that there would be tons of pressure on us about raising the “right” kind of kid.

What I didn’t expect and that I wasn’t prepared for was the amount of pressure that the rest of the world (and especially other mothers) puts on new moms. I remember the day it hit me. I was in Target when Noah was about 6 months old. He was finely sturdy enough to sit in the front of the shopping cart (thank goodness because I hate, loathe, and despise those damn bucket car seats that, somehow, only weigh 3 pounds when the baby isn’t in them but, put a 12 pound baby in it and, suddenly, the stupid thing weighs 60 pounds. It doesn’t make sense!)

It was winter and pretty cold outside. Noah hated wearing socks and as soon as the opportunity arose, he took his socks off and put them in his mouth. We were inside Target, he was happily playing and looking around, and this woman who appeared to be about 40ish came up to me, touched Noah’s feet (not even going to mention how much this bothered me) and, in a high-pitched baby voice said, “Apparently your mommy doesn’t care if your feet are freezing.”

I stood there, mouth open, trying to get past the shock and anger that was raging inside me. A million things were running through my head- including some really not-so-nice words that I shouldn’t say out loud in Target- but I just made some kind of stupid incoherent comment like, “Yeah, he just doesn’t like to wear socks.” And then, before I could get my brain working enough to say something about the pressures on moms and the judgment from others, she was gone. And I was left there to be angry about it and think over and over about all of things I should have said.

The sad thing is, this is not the only time something like this happened. As a stay-at-home mom during the first part of Noah’s life, he went with me everywhere. I dealt with all kinds of comments and stares from all kinds of people about everything- good and bad. I got used to it and, eventually I developed a pretty standard response that was just rude enough to get my point across.

So, back to my original point, there is too much pressure out there on new moms and dads and there is too much comfort in placing judgment with no regards to circumstance or personal choice. With that said, rather than railing on the ignorant people out there who continue to say hurtful and unnecessary comments to unsuspecting and tired new moms in Target, I would like to give a little advice and support to the moms out there (both new and seasoned) to help make dealing with the pressures a little easier.

1. Do what works. Every baby is different. The baby books are going to tell you one thing. Your mother-in-law is going to tell you something different. Figure out what works for your baby and do that. When we brought Noah home, the only place he would sleep was either on someone’s shoulder or in his bouncy seat. The shoulder was not the greatest option so we set up a card table next to the bed, stuck him in the bouncy seat, and he slept on that until he was 4 months old. Yes, people made fun of us for putting our baby on a card table but, it worked.
2. If your baby is happy and safe, then you are doing a good job. You are going to feel like a terrible parent more than a few times as your baby grows up. The first time you turn your back and he falls and skins his knee, you are going to blame yourself and, unfortunately, others will too. Remember, kids fall down. Kids get hurt. Parents make mistakes. Comfort your child, kiss his skinned knee, and know that you are the best parent he could ever ask for.
3. Trust yourself. You are the expert on your baby. There is a reason there is such a thing called “Mother’s Intuition.” Whether you feel like you know what you are doing or not, you know what is best for your baby and no one knows your kid better than you do. Women are the worst at questioning their own decisions. I am giving you permission to be confident about your choices.
4. Ask for help. Bringing home a baby is tough. Raising a toddler is pretty darn difficult too. And I still don’t know how parents with more than one kid figure it out. Find a good baby-sitter. Let grandparents help as much as they offer. And if they don’t offer, ask them to help! Your kids will benefit from having a mother who is better rested and who has a little extra time to herself. It will make your time with the baby even more special and rewarding for both of you.
5. Practice positive self-talk. Write it down if you have to. You are the best mother that you know how to be. And that is all anyone, especially your baby, can ask for. And remember, if you start positive self-talk now and do it regularly, your child will learn it too. Starting self-esteem building now can only mean great things for both of you in the future.

Yes, society puts a lot of pressure on us but we put even more on ourselves. There is no research that shows that perfect parents have perfect kids. Do your best, set attainable goals, and strive for adequacy.

A friend of mine lost her baby today.  She was 10 weeks pregnant.  I heard the news and I burst into tears.  Those big, can’t catch my breath, smear my make-up all over my face even though I am at work kind of tears.

My thoughts began to race.  Images of my pregnancy- my struggles, my joys, my plans for the future, sharing those images with family and friends- it all came back in a rush of emotion.  I immediately reached out to her and I could tell she was trying to stay strong and brave for everyone else.  I was trying to balance all of my personalities: (1) the friend in me who was so sad and heartbroken for a friend who is so kind and full of life and doesn’t deserve anything bad in this word, (2) the mom in me who is so scared and afraid everyday that something might happen to my family, (3) and the counselor in me who just wants to immediately refer her to someone to talk to because I know that the worse is yet to come.

The moment you decide that you want to be a mother, your life changes.  It literally happens immediately.  The second you make the choice to stop taking your birth control or you have that conversation with your gynecologist about pre-natal care, your life changes.  I know, for some, the planning isn’t as big of a deal as it was for me.  For some women, the life changing moment is when that pink line shows up (and then you go right to the pharmacy and buy the expensive digital tests just to make sure that the pink line wasn’t a fluke).

But I never realized- until it happened to me- that wanting and preparing for a child actually changes the way you think, the way you look at life.  You join a club of women who all have one major thing in common- they are scared to death, scared of everything.  All of a sudden, you are living for someone else.  You think about everything you eat, everything you do.  If you’re trying to get pregnant, your sex life changes, you make weird choices about what you eat and drink, and you feel like a failure every time you get your period.  It consumes you.

Then, when all the stars align, you get pregnant.  Emotions run the gamut from happy to scared to anxious to “what the hell were we thinking?”  You immediately begin making plans.  I need to make a doctor’s appointment.  When do we tell our families?  When is the due date?  Childcare, breastfeeding, baby showers, etc., etc., etc…

And, after the baby is born, you discover how wrong you were about everything you ever thought.  But you have a baby- that baby you have known from the moment you decided you wanted to be a mother.  He’s perfect.

But, for my friend and for thousands of other women, a miscarriage stops you in your tracks.  All of those joyous and exciting plans are now painful memories.  Because, even though that baby is no longer living inside you, you knew him.  He was yours.  In your mind, you were already trying to figure out how you were going to cope with his first skinned knee and his first hussy little girlfriend.

I cried when I heard about my friend’s miscarriage because I was reminded of how lucky I am.  I am so thankful that I have never experienced a loss as tragic as hers.  And I cried for her and for the hell that I know she has yet to face.  I have seen my clients struggle as milestones approach.  I have seen them feel enormous guilt when they get pregnant again.  I have seen their marriages dissolve because grief just sucks.  It takes a toll on every relationship and, without help, it can become overwhelming.

I don’t think we talk about miscarriage as much as we should.  It is not something to be ashamed of or embarrassed about.  Pregnant women are afraid to even say the word for fear that it might jinx them.  It affects so many more women and families than you could ever imagine.  People don’t discuss it.  A loss this big is not something that can be carried alone.

And you don’t have to be strong for anyone.  Now is not the time to put on a brave face.  As a southern woman, it is hard for me to say this.  But it has never been more true.