The First Year

Oh, the first year. It is the year of years. There is one thing I wish someone would have told me before I had a baby, and maybe they did but I didn't listen, or maybe they did and I did listen but I've since forgotten, because mom brain. I wish they would have told me that the first year is sort of a year where you have to step away from the rest of the world. It is a time when time slows, and you have to focus on the basics of feeding and sleeping and cleaning and it's really hard to be on a committee or make it on time to a meeting, or call someone back on the telephone. And if you're like me, and 33 years old with a fully established social scene when you have your first baby, it's really like culture shock. But as I round the bend of the first year, I can tell you that the insular feeling of the home and the cocoon and the bonding and the milk was, for me, a very beautiful season that is now changing as my baby grows. I wish they would have told me that it's perfectly alright to hibernate for an entire year, and even longer if you're a different sort of mom, and that the rest of the world understands. They will survive and they will still love you. And you can and will slowly re-emerge back into it all.