George7 wrote:Haha no I am female. It’s definately a struggle being young and having a child but I’m lucky to have my family around to help me. They do help me a lot but I feel like once they’ve been at work all day I don’t really want to just hand over my little one to them so I can have a break, if that makes sense.
I'm so glad you answered back, because I knew you would feel that way, about not "wishing to impose" on your friends and family, but I did not want to anticipate your reserve by mentioning it before you yourself would bring up the subject. But here again I should mention that in small doses certain people LOVE babies, even when they must take charge of them when they are waling and spewing nastiness from both ends -- vomiting and pooping at the same time. For many people babies are adorable and cute no matter what they do. Of course, I would guess that most men aren't terribly predisposed to an effortlessly euphoric attitude toward infant care, but many young women, many teenage girls, and many 'empty nest' mothers actually look forward to taking on little Baby Care Shifts. Its an instinctual Social Trait that has assured the survival of the human species. While we may all wonder what men are good for (Oh, but look at how good Men are at giving easy advice!), it is certainly clear that Women are predisposed toward nurturing Life.
but, yes, I am very glad you have family support. As I said about people understanding about postnatal mood swings in new mothers. Of course your family will understand that you will seem like a vicious snarling barking dog at times, but they know the REAL You and that you will return to normal soon enough (well, they will all hope it more sooner than later... but you know what I mean).
But, yes, God Bless You. Mothers are great. I am an old man and I can tell you some of the best experiences in my life were with my mother growing up. the Love and Confidence between a mother and a child creates the preconditions for a lot of wonderful moments. One of my best memories was when my family had just moved to the suburbs and we had a temporary mailbox off on the main road down the hill a bit. I was 3 or 4 and old enough to walk and so she took me by the hand and we went to get the mail. It was springtime and it was sunny and blue, and when we left our residential street the road ran next to a large undeveloped field that was a yellow explosion of wild daisies, or whatever such wild flowers are. Well, I had not seen anything so beautiful in my life, up till then, and perhaps, now that I think about it, there hasn't been anything that has effected me on the aesthetic level quite so deeply ever since. I remember that my mouth dropped open and I just kind of lost myself in that compelling vision of yellow splendor. But then my mother's voice broke the trance and I heard her say, Well, Little Leo, what is your favorite color?" "Yellow, Mommy". It meant so much to me at the time that she knew what I was thinking and feeling. but, anyway, Mothers are Great and you're a Mother. Everyone else thinks Mothers are Great too (it is really no joke about how men will fight even against great odds when there is any negative mention of their Mothers, that may represent to them the only thing in their dismal lives that they ever cherished) and so people are greatly predisposed to come to the aid of Mothers... they WANT to help.
But, your reserve does you credit and it is wonderful that you are so considerate. In any case, the baby will not be so troublesome, given a few more Christmases. It might seem like a long time, but just look at how many mothers, once they get past this so troublesome period decide to have a 'little brother or sister' for the first baby. It is one of those things where people seem to remember only the Good Times (which is surely a psychological mechanism designed to make us more hopeful for the Future then actual facts could reasonably warrant. For instance, recently I finally got a hip operation that I had needed for years. Well, it seems I can only remember the pain and the severe inconveniences of being crippled somewhat inferentially, telling myself how bad it must have been for myself, because, psychologically I snapped into the All's Well that Ends Well mode of thinking and remembering. I would suggest you keep a historical record of your posts here so you can surprise yourself in about 5 years with evidence that you weren't always radiant and smiling the whole time.