Tiffany Raiford
There’s something about becoming a mother that makes everyone – everyone – you encounter feel that nothing is off limits. From the strange woman at the supermarket excitedly talking about how big your breasts will grow once you start breastfeeding (um, awkward) to the woman at the doctor’s office telling you how many stitches she needed in her lady parts after her 12-pound baby ‘ripped her right open’ to your mother-in-law telling you that she knew right away at her first ultrasound that your husband was a boy based on the size of his ‘you know’ in the photos (if she adds a conspiratorial wink with this statement, feel free to vomit), you lucky girl, you; everyone has something to say. And no one says what they really mean.
I have four kids. During the course of all three of my pregnancies, I’ve heard it all. I mean, all of it. And because I’m a mom, I find myself wanting to say things to new moms, and I usually try to bite my tongue. Why? Because these poor women are hearing it from everyone else as it is. And additionally, what they’re hearing is not true. Moms like to say things that are politically correct, but I like to say what we really mean. It’s helpful to just be honest – and boring to be politically correct. Call me the anti-Stepford wife or whatnot, but here’s what moms say to new moms and here’s what they really mean.
What they say: Twins? How amazing! Better you than me!
What they really mean: Oh. My. God. I would literally die right now. I mean, what bad luck! Two babies at once! OMG. Kill me now. I swear, this woman’s life is about to end and she’s going to be so miserable.
Ladies, I have twins. And let me tell you this. Twins; yes, they are amazing. And yes, it is much better that it is me than you, because guess what? So what if you have two babies at once? It’s kind of awesome. I’ll tell you that I have two singletons, too, born before my twins. They’re amazing, too, but the twins are just the sweetest. They have this amazing bond that very few people have the pleasure of witnessing. You have a built-in best friend. You have this amazing love, and they’re actually a lot easier to schedule and get on a great sleeping schedule than one baby at a time is, because they have one another. So, there; to all the naysayers who want to freak out new moms. You’ve got this. And you’ve got something that very people have, and you enjoy every second of it.
What they say: Breast is best.
What they really mean: Formula is expensive.
Yep; formula is expensive. Especially when you have to buy it for twins for a year; but sometimes it’s what you have to do. You will encounter those moms that tell you breast is best in a way that makes you feel as if you are doing it wrong. Ignore them; my personal opinion is that those who cannot just live and let live and want other mothers to feel insecure are only doing so because of their own insecurities. Yes, breast milk is amazingly good for babies, but don’t you dare feel bad if you cannot breast feed. I was unable to breast feed any of my kids for more than just a few weeks. These A cups weren’t doing the job, so we gave our kids formula. Guess what? They’re smart. They’re happy; and we did what we best for us.
What they say: A natural birth is the safer for your baby.
What they mean: I pushed this baby out of my vagina without pain meds in my bathtub and I wish to God that I’d had drugs, but I swear that I want everyone to suffer like I did because it hurt. And also, I like to make other mothers feel like less of a woman for using the medications. It makes me feel superior.
At the end of the day, I don’t care how you gave birth. Want to know why? I have four kids, two of them came at the same time, and I went in to natural labor and pushed less than 6 times to get all four of them out of my body. Collectively; less than 6 times. And I have four healthy kids – and I did not feel a darn thing. Not one. I had an epidural, and I swear that someone would make serious money if they sold that stuff on the streets. Birth your baby how you see fit.
What they say: I think your birth plan sounds wonderful.
What they mean: I think your birth plan sounds wonderful, but I’m really laughing that you have a birth plan, darling.
Listen, I’m all about planning for birth, but you don’t really get to plan. I had four kids and none of them came when or how I planned them to. I had it all worked out and they did what they wanted. It happens; you can’t change it. So get over it and be flexible, mamas. At the end of the day, you get to have a baby and that’s all that matters.
What they say: I could not imagine leaving my baby!
What they mean: I hate you and your ability to leave the baby with grandma for a night out or a weekend away to sleep in, have fun and seriously enjoy yourself for a few hours. You suck. I wish I had someone I trusted that much to watch my kids.
What they say: I can’t remember my life before kids.
What they mean: I can’t remember my life before kids.
Seriously, what the hell did we do? All those free hours in the evenings and mornings and weekends and days? What did we actually do? How did we fill the time? I have no earthly idea. I’ve been a parent for 7 years and I cannot remember what I did the 25 before that.
What they say: Just wait until you have a second baby.
What they mean: Really, just wait. It’s so much better.
It is. You’re so much more relaxed, laid back and normal. It’s a nice feeling. Throw twins in after baby number two and you’re hardly going to notice you even have two more babies.
What they say: I love my kids more than anything in the world.
What they mean: I’ve never loved my kids as much in my life as I do during nap and bed time.
I love my kids more than anything in this world, but I love them like that only when they are asleep somewhere in this house. I do not love them like that most of the time when they are awake. Most of the time when they are awake I want to run screaming into the streets asking God why. Why? Why do they yell? Why can’t they just wear the clothes we picked out last night? Why can’t they just eat the darn food they asked me to cook 10 minutes ago? Why can’t they just get along? Why do they insist on not listening to me?
What they say: You’ll forget the pain when you see that baby for the first time.
What they mean: You’ll forget the pain because you’ll realize they want to stick a baby covered in your slimy, bloody insides on your naked chest and you’ll wonder whether or not it’s appropriate to ask them to just run some water over the baby or wrap it in a towel or something first.
Okay, so I didn’t feel anything after my kids were born (the miracle of epidural, ya’ll) because I didn’t feel anything when they were born. I was told to push, asked if I was doing it right since I could not feel it and BAM! A baby; and they wanted me to hold it. All nasty and gross. Call me vain and horrible as a mother, I don’t care, but I just couldn’t do it. I knew I wasn’t getting a shower for a while, and that meant that someone needed to do something with that.
What they say: We love baby-wearing so much we will never stop.
What they mean: My kid is so freaking used to being on top of me and being held at all times that I’m literally going to have to carry him until he’s 78 because I never taught him independence or how to get around on his own.
Seriously, I don’t get it. I mean, I get it for things like shopping and running errands. It’s easier to have your hands free. But I don’t get it at home. Sorry – I do not. I have four kids and not one of them was worn around the house. And guess what: They play nicely on the floor by themselves, they walk on their own and they don’t want to be on top of me at all times. Something I’ve noticed with the very few baby wearers that wear their babies 24/7 for bonding purposes is that their babies are so bonded to them now that they cannot ever put them down. I have to have a free hand for my cocktail, people. I just do.
Photo by Alex Wong/Getty Images
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