The Most Surprising Thing About the Newborn Phase

We both spent the first twenty-four hours after our babies were born doing the same stuff every modern mom in the western world does: requesting Wi-Fi passwords and painkillers, wishing the hospital was equipped with proper coffee, and marvelling at the absolute perfection of the little beings that just emerged from our bodies.

The only thought running through our minds that first day was: This is the best. This baby is the best. This baby is so chill. This baby is so cute. I’m a fucking rock star. Our lives are going to be so awesome. I’m going to be the best mom ever. This rules.

Then night two rolled around and, with it, the first of many surprises: cluster feeding.

In case you’re not yet familiar with the term, it’s something newborns do when the satiation from the womb wears off about twenty-four hours after birth, and they suddenly transform into starving velociraptors who demand milk every hour, on the hour. All. Night. Long.

Neither of us will ever forget that fateful first cluster feed. It felt like the baby was playing a cruel joke on us, like “Hey, I know you’re currently recovering from major abdominal surgery, but would you mind just staying up all night while I try to extract milk from your tender breasts, even though you don’t know what you’re doing and it’s going to hurt like a bitch? Awesome, thanks.”

courtesy of Aleksandra Jassem.

The surprises only multiplied and intensified in the days that followed.

Surprise! The baby hates being put down.

Surprise! The baby shits fifty times a day (fine, not fifty, but definitely ten, which is still way more than we were expecting from a tiny baby).

Surprise! The baby can’t deal with your milk let down, so they choke every time you try to get them to latch.

Surprise! The baby has day and night mixed up, so they snooze from 8:00 a.m. to 9:00 p.m. and then party from 10:00 p.m. to 7:00 a.m.

Surprise! The baby hates that $300 designer bouncy chair you bought them.

Surprise! The baby loves that hideous $30 colourful monstrosity of a chair that your mother-in-law bought them.

Surprise! The baby has a case of acne that rivals your thirteen-year-old nephew’s (and there’s nothing you can do about it other than wait it out).

Surprise! The baby hates their car seat. And their stroller. And their bassinet.

Surprise! The baby has to go to a hundred doctor’s appointments in their first twelve weeks of life (fine, not a hundred, but at least five, which is still way more than we were expecting for a tiny baby).

Surprise! The baby vomits so forcefully that it hits the wall behind you (and the sofa, and the chair, and the dog, and their clothes, and your clothes).

Surprise! The baby cries every day from 5:00 p.m. to 8:00 p.m., for no reason. #WitchingHour

Can you make it through this onslaught of surprises while (a) simultaneously recovering from the most intense physical trauma you’ve ever endured, (b) trying to function on two hours of sleep a night, and (c) dealing with insane postpartum hormones?

Surprise! Yes, you can. You’re a mom now, and you are officially tough as shit. Welcome to the other side.