When I wake up in the morning, my brain is already racing with thoughts about the day ahead. People will tell you that when you have a baby, you'll lose sleep (and yes, you will), or that your relationship will change (and yes, it will). But no one warned me about the mental load you carry every single day.
Something as simple as taking a walk might seem effortless. Well, you are sadly mistaken. "Will he be too hot? Too cold? Should I bring a blanket? Or is the blanket too warm? Did he drink enough water before we left? Should I put a hat on him? Should I apply sunscreen?" And that's before we've even made it out the front door.
Ahhh, summer—everyone's favourite season, not unless you have young babies! My son was born last August and Toronto had probably one of the worst summers for heat in decades. Ensuring my homes temperature was at the recommended range was like mission impossible. It was probably more stressful than actually taking care of my baby. Health experts suggest a room between 20-22 degrees which for our three-level townhouse is a serious undertaking. So my son and I ended up sleeping in the family room for the first 2 months until October came around and the temperatures got a lot cooler. Fast forward to now, we have just starting the month of June and we are already hitting 24 degrees in his room. Every morning it's a battle of what to dress him in for his nap. Which TOG rating should I use for his sleep sack? Should I turn the fan on? These are not mental battles I was prepared to have.
From my understanding—and, to be fair, I didn't do a ton of research on this topic—I assumed that breastmilk or formula was the main source of nutrition until a baby turned one. I thought pureed fruits and vegetables were mostly for practice. You know, a few spoonfuls here and there, maybe more on the floor than in their mouth. But then we went to his 9-month doctor's appointment. She started asking me what kinds of foods I was making him, how often I was feeding him, and whether I was offering plenty of iron-rich foods. I stood there thinking, "Girl, I've been giving this baby fruits and vegetables. What do you mean beef?" So now he's basically dining at a five-star restaurant. Breakfast is usually something like greek yogurt, tofu, cottage cheese, or oatmeal with fruit. Lunch and dinner feature a rotating menu of beef, turkey, chicken, lentils and fish with an assortment of vegetables. At this point, this baby eats better than I do. Meanwhile, I'm surviving on coffee and ritz crackers while meal-prepping balanced, iron-rich entrées for someone who still tries to eat his bib. So now every week I have to do an inventory of what food I have left and what I need to go buy and prepare. Let alone meals I need to prepare for my husband and I.
And don't even get me started on wake windows. Before becoming a mom, I assumed babies got tired, fell asleep, and that was the end of the story. What a blissfully naive version of myself that was. Now every nap feels like a high-stakes science experiment. If he's awake too long, his cortisol levels might rise and he'll become overtired, making it harder for him to fall asleep and stay asleep. But if I put him down too early, he won't have enough sleep pressure built up and the nap will be too short. So every day I'm sitting there trying to decode a tiny human. Is he rubbing his eyes because he's tired? Or because he accidentally poked himself in the face? Was that yawn a genuine sleep cue or simply a yawn? Is 2 hours and 45 minutes the magic number today, or has he suddenly decided he needs 3 hours and 10 minutes? And if a nap runs too short the whole day is a write off. And the best part? The day you finally think you've figured it out, they change again.
Milestones, you hear that word a lot. Is he rolling yet? Is he sitting yet? Is he crawling yet? Is he walking yet? These seem like such ordinary questions you would ask but they also have a lot of significant baggage. As some of you may remember my son was born with torticollis at birth. So when it came to meeting gross motor milestones my son was slightly behind. So people would ask some of these questions and I knew my son wasn't doing it yet, it would make me feel like I was doing a bad job. I remember in the early days I would start going down a rabbit hole on the internet thinking he had cerebral palsy or hip dysplasia and I just felt so hopeless. I would lay awake at night not knowing if he would ever roll or sit. I was bringing him to physiotherapy and to a chiropractor, just desperate to help him. Overtime with lots of exercises and practice he has really come a long way and I'm so proud of him.
And that's the thing about motherhood that no one really prepares you for. It's not just the sleepless nights or the diaper changes. It's the constant questioning. Is he sleeping enough? Is he eating enough? Am I reading to him enough? Should we be doing more tummy time? More sensory activities? More socialization? Some days it feels like every decision carries the weight of his future. The funny thing is, if you had asked me before becoming a mom what would be the hardest, I never would have guessed it would be the mental gymnastics. The endless calculations. The invisible checklist running through my head from the moment I wake up until the moment I go to sleep.
Maybe someone should write a handbook about all the little things mothers spend their days thinking about. Not because we need more advice, but because it would be nice to know we're not the only ones asking these questions. The truth is, I still don't know if I'm always getting it right. I still question wake windows, meal portions, clothing layers, and a hundred other things before noon. But if there's one thing motherhood has taught me, it's that caring this much is probably a sign that we're doing better than we think.
And tomorrow morning, I'll wake up and do it all over again.
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