Towards the end of my big, fat, long, hot, sick, swollen pregnancy, I started to finally feel that I was ready to do that whole giving-birth-and-entering-motherhood thing.

I had read the books.

Did the prenatal classes.

Had my weight recorded loudly by the receptionist at my OB’s office approximately 800 times. (Tell me, please, WHY would you put the scale in the always-crowded waiting room? What a cruel bit of interior design clearly not planned by a pregnant woman.)

I had studied the blogs; watched The Business of Being Born.

I knew some things.

I knew not to buy too many newborn-sized clothes or diapers because my baby might be huge and not fit into them. (I didn’t need to worry; she was 8 pounds and wore them for a month.)

I knew I didn’t want a C-section. (That’s how it works, right? You decide how you want your birth to go and you write it on your birth plan?…totally ended up with a C-section.)

I knew I would be too tired to cook, so I made three freezer meals. (Oh good…all set.)

I knew I would want to drink lots of coffee, so I bought a better coffee maker. (This was probably the one smart thing I did.)

I knew there would be no sleep, lots of diaper changes, spit up, and some crying.

I knew it would be hard. I thought I was prepared. (You just keep eating dessert with every meal and telling yourself that, dear…)

Approximately one hour after giving birth, I knew I was not prepared.

Turns out you can’t really prepare for a thing like being a parent until you’re in the trenches. And I mean deep in the trenches.

And your drill sergeant is eleven pounds and just peed through her third diaper in ten minutes and you’re starting to suspect she might be a bit mentally unstable because she will just NOT STOP SCREAMING even when you ask her nicely to stop.

But I said please…

And now? One year later?

I’m still totally unprepared for each new phase (Holy cow she can reach the doorknobs now WHAT DO I DO), but I’ve definitely learned a few things.

So without further ado..

15 Things I Learned in My First Year of Motherhood

1.) If you live on the top floor of an old apartment building with no elevator, no AC, a perpetually broken washer and dryer in the basement, constant construction and a high maintenance dog and you find out you’re pregnant, you should move.

Just do it. And do it before the baby comes.

Yes, I know you’re so tired, your hip bones feel like they are slowly being torn in half, and you just threw up because you accidentally thought of scrambled eggs, but it will still be easier than after the baby arrives.

2.) Recovering from the labor and birth was so, so much harder than I ever expected.

Not in the “Oh, darn; should have bought a bigger bottle of witch hazel” kind of way, but in the “I am literally a wounded animal and can’t stand up straight or stop weeping” way.

For some reason, in all of my months of prepping for the birth, I never once took the time to consider that I might be completely and utterly physically wrecked upon leaving the hospital and unable hold the baby or scale four flights of stairs (…but I DID think it was a smart idea to spend  a week reading the entire book on HypnoBirthing with kind of a weird fascination when I knew I had absolutely no intention of ever attempting a hypnobirth, so that’s good!).

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3.) In that first year, you will think about the subject of SLEEP more than anything else you have ever thought about before in your entire life, including all of your hopes and dreams (which will now just be about sleeping, anyway).

Your sleep-deprived state will lead you down some strange paths, like when you catch yourself glaring at your snoring, blissed-out beabull with real, true envy in your eyes while you’re holding a crying newborn and muttering something about the five S’s at 4AM.

She also mocked me with a four hour nap earlier.

4.) I definitely should have bought everything used.

Yes, I had read that tip a million times when I was pregnant and shopping for baby items, but still had those thoughts like, “Ohhh, well, it’s probably safest to buy a new swing,” or “I think I’d prefer an unused carrier.”

Wrong. So wrong. Should have bought it all used.

I would go back and tell my pregnant self to:

a.) Stop eating so much ice cream because breastfeeding ain’t gonna take care of all that,

and

b.) Join a local parent buy & sell group on Facebook.

You can find absolutely EVERYTHING in great condition and for much better prices.

Once you see what the true shelf life of a baby item is, you will not be so eager to shell out $190 for a swing.

“

“Oh, good!” I said, upon purchasing the $190 swing. “It can hold up to 25 pounds!”

No. Well, maybe technically it can, but that swing will not be swinging a 25 pound baby. It will be used for maybeee three months max, and then will sit in your bedroom taking up a huge amount of space and you will pile sweaters and laundry that needs to be put away in it.

Buy a cheap one from your Mom Buy & Sell group and use that extra money for Diaper Genie refills.

Because buying those really sucks.

After being tripped over for the hundredth time, the Fisher-Price My Little Lamb Platinum Edition Cradle n’ Swing found its new forever home: the hall closet. It was soon to be joined by a new friend, the gigantic Finding Nemo Jumper, who was pretty much disliked from day one. 

5.) Having a sick baby is the worst.

Being sick when you have a baby is also the worst.

But being sick while having a sick baby is a special kind of hell.

Ah, our first dual cold. As it turns out, babies do not seem to particularly enjoy having something stuck up their nose to have the snot sucked out of it. I myself do not mind. 

6.) However long you think it will take you to get ready to leave the house, add at least 30 minutes onto it. And then ten more to get your Sherpa-like diaper bag ready.

Oh, and you’ll still be late.

7.) Respect the nap time or you will pay.

8. ) The sound of your baby laughing is probably the greatest sound in the entire world, and you will do whatever it takes to achieve that sound.

Even if it means acting a complete fool in public.

Doesn’t matter; don’t care. *brays loudly like a donkey on crowded bus while playing peek-a-boo using scarf*

Worth it. 

9.) Going to the grocery store pre-baby? Just another chore that had to be done.

Going to the grocery store by myself post-baby? My deepest, most yearned-for fantasy.

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Would also settle for drug store, coffee shop, pet food store, or the Dollar Store.

10.) Starting solids was not as much fun as I thought it would be. Starting finger foods was downright panic-inducing.

Turns out when your anxiety about choking is at Threat Level Midnight, it does not lead to a very pleasant dining experience.

okay maybe some of it was a little fun.

11.) You will never be able to take a shower without hearing phantom crying. This means that on any given day, only one of your legs will be shaved (…or, more accurately, zero of them).

12.) Once your baby is mobile and crawling around, your pockets at the end of each day will be full of little bits of plastic, tiny rocks, clumps of hair and fur, coins, bobby pins, wood chips (Where does all of this stuff come from, by the way? I barely even leave the house) and other detritus you pick up off of the floor.

Your eyes will also automatically scan the floors of every house you enter to ensure they’re free of choking hazards.

You will realize that most places are basically gussied-up death traps.

I had the hardest time deciding on the filter for this picture but finally decided on the Blush setting. It just really made those tiny pieces of cat litter pop.

(please god don’t actually be pieces of cat litter.)

13.) The amount of things you can do one-handed is surprisingly vast.

*brushes teeth, makes pot of coffee, eats seven granola bars, drinks entire pot of coffee, pees, checks email, eats spoonful of peanut butter from jar, feeds dog and cat, empties dishwasher and makes more coffee all while jiggling cranky baby on hip and singing butchered version of Six Little Ducks by Raffi*   

14.)  Your brain can accommodate a ton of new, baby-related information.

Nap schedules, doctor’s appointment, medicine dosages, food introductions, when baby last had a bath (…Has it really been FOUR DAYS? *frantically begins cleaning baby with wipes*), yup; it’s all in there.  But in order to fit all of this info, some old stuff must get the boot.

For me, this has been the order of the months. Is May before April? When does October happen? Who can say, really? Does it even matter? Is any of this real?

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I’ve made my peace with things.

15.) When you first bring your baby home from the hospital, you will be terrified.

You will wonder who this tiny creature you made is, how to take care of her, how to feed her, dress her, clean her and keep her happy, especially when it seems like the slightest movement will break her.

The first time you have to watch her by yourself, you may panic.

Each diaper change will be an ordeal.

You might miss your old life, which included things like sleeping, eating warm food, and not being responsible for keeping another human being alive.

…so I just hold her…like this? 

But by the end of that first year, you will know that baby so well that you know exactly what each facial expression means, how to soothe her when she cries, how to anticipate and prevent a meltdown, how to make her laugh, what her favorite foods are.

You’ll diaper without a thought.

Spend any alone time you have looking at pictures of her on your phone.

Feel confident enough to take a long trip.

And then one day you’re suddenly planning the first birthday party and realizing that you no longer have a floppy newborn but a crazy, silly, energetic, funny, wonderful toddler with a personality so distinctly her own who has taught you so much in just a year.

And that’s a pretty amazing thing.

And there you have it.

Every single thing I have learned in my first year of motherhood.

(Just kidding my initial list went up to 87 and included gems like, “Having Netflix is good” and “Standing in front of your video baby monitor chanting, ‘don’t wake up don’t wake up don’t wake up’ will not, in fact, keep your baby from waking up” and “It is totally okay to blame everything on teething for both you and the baby. Baby has flushed, red cheeks? Probably teething. You have greasy, unwashed hair and complete lack of motivation to exercise? Definitely teething.”).

If this list will save one person from buying a $90 new bouncer, then this will all have been worth it (and by that, I mean having a baby).

Fellow Parents, I would love to hear some of the things that you learned in your first year as a parent.

What tops your list? How much coffee did you consume? What info has your brain sacrificed in order to remember where the baby socks are stored? And how much baby stuff is crammed into your closet? (Pics please!)