Delirium, Joy, & Never-Ending Information: The Trifecta of New Motherhood

Before I had a kid, I was convinced that I could handle anything. I'd worked my way from community college to the University of Michigan to a job at Google to a career in television hosting. I was no stranger to late nights, weekly business travel, and the never-ending grind of building a career. It was all I knew for the entirety of my 20s.

I'd been through successes and failures. I'd made immense sacrifices, and I became almost too good at functioning on three hours of sleep and lots of caffeine. No sleep or free time? Come on—I would have this motherhood thing in the bag. I had it all figured out.

I met my husband, Mike, when I was visiting my family in Seattle in 2015 and he was playing for the Mariners. After we'd been together for about a year and I was just getting used to baseball life, he was traded to the Cubs (and flew out the next day). While I stayed behind to clean out his apartment, I realized that to make a relationship work in the world of pro baseball, most of the sacrifice falls on the woman. There's just no way around it. I decided that day that I was in it for the long haul, and the sacrifices only made me (and our relationship) stronger.

A few years later, in July of 2018, I got pregnant. I was due at the beginning of the following season (which is always a chaotic time) and paternity leave in the MLB is 3 days maximum—but I was used to being without Mike for 7-10 days at a time during road trips. I wasn't fazed.

Our son, Max, was born early morning in mid-April. I was tired but not delirious, and physically, everything seemed pretty manageable. See? I was gonna be fiiiine.

Twelve hours later, a switch had flipped. Max refused to relax unless he was latched onto my boob. If he wasn't latched, he screamed. The entire night was spent trying to enjoy this perfect baby while also trying to adjust to becoming a human pacifier and trying not to fall asleep with him in my arms. And you think I knew how to change a diaper?! Ha!

The people who know that the best are our fellow moms. And the more we can bond together, uplift each other, and support all of the decisions we make for our families, the more we can build a society where moms feel safe and supported.

By the next morning, I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. The adrenaline had worn off and the fatigue hit, and my husband was back at work. Time in baseball is finite, and I've always been on board with the fact that we gotta do whatever we gotta do while he's in the league to appreciate and maximize his career opportunities.

I tried to process that I was now a mom while trying to learn the infinite amount of information I felt like I needed to know to properly take care of my beautiful baby.

Some days were great!

...and some days seemed impossible.

And so I challenge you. To give yourself grace. To talk about your struggles with people who won't judge—because mama, they're normal.

Out of all the transitions throughout my life, this one was the hardest. And one of the things I struggled with the most was sorting through all of the opinions and the unsolicited advice—including all of the intentional and unintentional mom-shaming. And scrolling, scrolling, scrolling in an exhausted state at 3am made it even worse.

"No pacifiers until he's older, and no formula!!! Breast is best!!!"

"LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT VACCINES."

"You better enjoy these days, you're gonna miss them. Be happy!!! It goes so fast."

In between the sleepless nights—many of which were spent alone—all the "advice" blended together into something like this:

"You better do (x) (y) and (z), or you'll end up being a terrible mother."

Everyone has differing opinions, and in our social media-driven world, we're bombarded with the "right" things to do for our babies. People around us never hesitate to give us their thoughts, in-person or online, and there are endless articles with conflicting information. How can we possibly sort through and process it all?

We can't.

We can, however, control how we approach conversations with our fellow moms.

I remember seeing this post in a mom group of 40,000+ members from a young mother asking for advice because her new baby would scream nonstop if she put her down. She was exhausted, overwhelmed, and desperate for tips or tricks; she, quite literally, couldn't get a break.

As I read through some of the comments, while empathizing heavily with her feeling of sheer exhaustion, my heart sank for her. The comments were full of things like "Just enjoy the snuggles, girl. You're gonna miss these days, TRUST ME" and "It gets worse before it gets better, just wait until she hits the 3-month sleep regression!" As well intentioned as those comments (and the people who write them) may be, they do nothing but make a struggling mama feel worse. I'm speaking from experience on this. I'd read (or hear) comments like that and think "Why can't I just enjoy every minute of this? Am I not capable of handling this baby?"

I tried to process that I was now a mom while trying to learn the infinite amount of information I felt like I needed to know to properly take care of my beautiful baby.

The more I struggled with my own postpartum stressors, the more I became passionate about spreading love and support for all mothers. Mothers who make tough decisions every single day when trying to decide what is best for their baby. Mothers who feel guilty for leaving their baby while they go to work. And mothers who give everything they have for their children—which is all of us.

And so I challenge you. To give yourself grace. To talk about your struggles with people who won't judge—because mama, they're normal. To share more raw moments online and not just the polished ones. And to uplift each other, without giving negative (especially unsolicited) advice.

My last challenge is this: to do whatever you gotta do to get through a hard day. For me, that's taking even a five-minute shower. Every day, no matter what. I never thought that some days I'd have to force myself to do something like that, but here we are. And it does help me.

Throughout pregnancy, everyone always asks about the woman, and then after the birth, it becomes all about the baby. The people who know that the best are our fellow moms. And the more we can bond together, uplift each other, and support all of the decisions we make for our families, the more we can build a society where moms feel safe and supported.

Raising children is a challenge like none other and I'm here to tell you: your best is good enough. There is no job as wild as being a mom. And you, my friend, are the CEO.