When we began thinking about having kids, there always seemed to be a lot of hubbub about how much our lives would change and how incredible the experience is. Key ideas kept emerging and repeating, swirling around us like some widely accepted canon of you-can't-go-back propoganda. Well, now I'm on the other side of the birthing bed, and while it has been a remarkable transformation in our lives, I'm here to dispell a few common myths about being a new parent:
1. All babies are cute. Come on. It is okay to admit that some infants, especially just-out-of-the-oven ones, are more lizard than human. I myself come from a long line of ugly newborns. My mom says a neighbor lady came by to see me when I was a few days old and remarked (pointedly) on the lovely baby blanket I was sleeping on. And I am secure enough to admit that my own son had a bad case of the uglies that he couldn't shake until he hit the two month mark. He was like a earthworm-octopus child; all squishy limbs, scrunched face and mottled skin. Of course we love him all the same, but the myth lives on - our friends and family became adamant about how cute he was.
2. Your body wil never be the same. Sure, initially it is difficult to walk across the room for fear that your junk will actually drop out of your pant leg onto the floor, and the boobs become blue collar workers whereas they used to be white collar execs, but in time the body can restore itself to essentially its old familar self. I feel like it is a common misconception that any Tom, Dick or Harry can tell just by looking at a woman of birthing age if she is a mother or not; the extra sprigs of gray hair, the loose skin dangling from her waistline, the breasts that dangle and droop. Poppycock.
3. Your single and childless friends will disappear. This is a myth I have been pleasantly surprised to find completely untrue. It is so endearing to witness our bachelor friends hang out with the baby during a football game on Sunday, or call on our single friends to babysit while we run to a evening meeting. Some of our best new friends are a couple who don't have kids, and we always have plenty to talk about over dinner and drinks without dwelling on diaper rashes and nap schedules. Sure, my spouse and I do appreciate that we have some very good friends with kids about the same age as Archer, but that is simply an enhancement to those friendships, not a requirement for all things social. I feel so happy to still have my single and kid-free friends close, with no threat of that mythical lack of commonality that presupposes parents and non-parents are different species.
4. Say goodbye to travel. Babies are highly portable. Their stuff - maybe not so much. I admit that the amount of gear that is necessary to maintain a baby's health and hygiene while traveling is nothing short of absurd. We used to be able to dash away for weekend jaunts with little forethought, but now it takes checklists, reservations and multiple laps to the car for loading. Still, babies can be fantastic travel companions: they don't have an opinion (or can't voice it) about the vacation spot, they can be carried and don't take up too much space, they fly free until they are two, and they are usually good conversation starters with the local folks wherever you go. No need to file away those passports. Add one more to the pile and go forth by train, plane, bike or foot to exotic and mundane locales near and far.
5. You'll know how to be a mother instinctually. I've asked around, and it's not just me who feels terribly ill-equipped for this job. With no formal training, no manual (I'm still searching for that succinct book, study or article to tell me what the hell to do), and no practice or scrimmage before the big game, it is on, and you'd better work some serious voodoo magic or this kid will be ruined. Or at least damaged. In some way. Now. Use your intuition. Every woman inately knows what's what in the wide world of child rearing, right? Nope. Don't think so. With so many possible choices in so many possible scenarios that ultimately carry such grave and undeniable importance, how can it be mothers' insticts that produce happy, healthy kids time and time again? I think it more plausible that kids are resilient enough to survive most parental choices - right or wrong, lucky or unlucky - and that ends up being dubbed "A Mother's Instinct."