Super Mom

Pregnancy is littered with fear. At least it was for me. Was it for you?


I am having a flashback of googling "can a pregnant woman eat eggs?" while 6 weeks pregnant. FYI- I think they can, I did, but check with your doctor.

I called my OBGYN once I figured out I was, in fact, pregnant. "Oh ok, we will schedule you to come in once you are 8 weeks along."  8 weeks?!? Surely that was a mistake. What the heck am I supposed to do until then? Aren't there things I shouldn't be doing? Shouldn't you be telling me not to eat sushi!? Spoiler alert, I had the baby and everything was fine. I think.

I felt a brief reprieve when they placed that adorable (screaming) bundle of joy in my arms. A reprieve that lasted about 30 seconds. Until...how do I breastfeed? Am I going to breastfeed? And so forth. And it hasn't really stopped since, although I have changed my mindset dramatically.
I believe I suffered from the "Supermom Complex" the first few weeks/months of motherhood. I put very high, and unreasonable expectations upon myself.

I felt I was expected to interact with my baby constantly. I couldn't fathom quitting breastfeeding because it was what I was supposed to do (ha). I pressured myself to have all the answers- and any answers I didn't have I was expected to find- fast.

There is this notion that being a mom comes naturally. And some parts of motherhood did fall into place naturally for me. However, my older family members didn't raise kids in the era of Instagram, Pinterest. They didn't raise kids in a society enamored with glamorized, filtered, facetuned versions of reality. They didn't raise kids with so much information at our fingertips, sometimes too much information, to the point where it creates confusion.

A 2012 study from Ohio State University found that "parenting perfectionism" led to lower confidence in mothers and greater stress in fathers.  So basically, my unrealistic expectations were actually having a negative impact on my family.

Along the way I had an epiphany and I have to thank my daughter for it. My mommy mantra is that I will raise her so that she feels loved, no matter what. Diaper blowout? Ok. We got this. High-pitched scream in the middle of Target/my happy place? Ok. Need to review public meltdowns with baby. But OK. Still love you. I want to raise my child with compassion, empathy and understanding. While creating expectations, boundaries and reasonable consequences. Perfection isn't the expectation. I merely expect her to do her best, rather than please me. So long as she is doing her best, and being kind, we are doing great. And if in a temporary fit of rage she takes Jimmy's block and flings it across the room, we will discuss it and address it appropriately. But she will still be loved.

My ah ha moment came when I said- wait for it- why don't I treat MYSELF the same way I treat my kid? I am going to make mistakes. I am going to leave the stroller at home, realizing it only after we circle the overcrowded mall parking lot for 35 minutes and finally snag a spot. Sigh. I am going to drop her beloved wubbanub somewhere, never to be found again. The spare diapers in my diaper bag- I used the last one and forgot to restock. So what? There will be accountability and consequences, for me. But no matter what, I love myself.

Being a good mom and being happy doesn't mean I get it right every single moment of every single day. And it doesn't mean I am happy every moment of every day. Treat yourself like a kid for one day and see how it feels. I bet it makes you a better mom.