When you become pregnant with your first baby you look at the world with fresh eyes. Like the idyllic black and white scenes of Pleasantville, the world is a perfect place. Bad things can happen – on the news, in the community, at work – but they can’t touch you. You are a walking, talking miracle maker. Creator of life!

You spend a lot of time preparing yourself for your new role as a parent. You fossick through old baby photos admiring how cute you were, trying to create an image of your unborn child. You prod family members for information about your own birth story, milestones and funny moments. You buy every baby gimmick on the market because you are just so bloody excited. You picture yourself – the image of calm and bliss, you have been waiting for this moment for a long time. You are complete.

And that is exactly how you should be. You SHOULD be excited. You ARE embarking on an amazing adventure. Your life IS changing in the most incredible way forever.

But: that doesn’t make it easy. Motherhood is a tough gig for most.

Of course it’s important to keep perspective. No one is dying. No one is chronically ill. You are not walking the plank into shark-infested waters.

But it’s still tough. It’s just tough in a ‘I-wouldn’t-change-it-for-the-world-I-just-need-a-little-more-sleep-and-maybe-someone-to-hold-this-bundle-while-I-shower’ kind of way. It’s okay to think it’s tough. It’s okay to feel like you have no idea what you’re doing (because who does). It’s okay to be freaking out at the over-whelming constant-ness of it all. It’s okay to mourn the interaction and spontaneity of your pre-kids life. And it’s okay to cry because you’re so tired you feel a little bit sick and your friend just bought you a yo yo and that was so nice of them.

Because I have found, by opening up and talking to lots of other mums, that this is how just about everyone feels! And if you don’t, if you really are the image of calm and bliss, well that’s awesome too.

I started this blog for two reasons:

1 – I like writing. And I like stretching the old brain in a way that playing Lego with a two-year-old just can’t do, as much as I adore him.

2 – I was totally unprepared for motherhood. Or I should say, I was totally unprepared for being totally unprepared. And I wish that back then, when I had my first newborn, there had been more people on social media sharing the reality of those early parenthood days.

Pre-kids, I was a satisfied, confident professional. I spent my days working in a career that I had studied four tertiary years for – primary school teaching. I loved my job. I loved the kids and my work mates, and I really loved using my brain to meet the challenges that come with educating a class of individuals.

Then I had my much longed-for baby. And all of a sudden I had no idea what the freck I was doing! I had been tricked! Why had people been so excited for me to have a baby? I wasn’t having much fun, I was just really, really tired!

And there only seemed to be two options:

a) You’re coping beautifully, motherhood is bliss!

b) You’ve got post-natal depression.

I didn’t feel like I fit in either category. I LOVED my beautiful baby. I looked forward to seeing him every morning, even if I’d been up to him multiple times overnight. I loved his smell, his expressions, his breath. I wouldn’t have traded him for anything.

But that love was clouded with sleep-deprivation, anxiety and just an overwhelming responsibility to keep this helpless little baby alive.

Social media is awash with melt-in-your-mouth cute baby photos. And as much as I love seeing happy pictures of parental bliss (I am partial to posting a few myself), I think they can sometimes make other mums (me) feel like they’re doing something wrong.

Why isn’t my baby always smiling like the others are? Why won’t my baby sit cheerfully at the café like that? Why do I sometimes feel like crying when everyone else seems so together? Why does my baby turn into the Chucky doll at night when everyone else’s babies are sleeping through?

Each time I saw another baby lying smugly next to their ‘I just slept through the night’ milestone card, it was like a stab straight through the heart. I mean I was happy for their parents, in a completely not at all way.

So if you’re in the newborn haze and feel like you’re sinking – grab yourself a floatie (your partner, mum, aunty, best friend, all of the above) and hang on. This is not the time to be a martyr, this is the time for survival! Let people help you. If your mother-in-law offers to hold the baby for an hour – embrace her! If someone wants to cook you a meal – tell them you love lasagne, thanks! If someone brings you a latte with one sugar – trade them your child (JOKING). We all hate asking for help, it’s outrageously difficult, but people love you and they want to do something.

And the fog does lift. Soon enough you’ll find yourself in the same place as the rest of us – still with no idea what you’re doing, but a lot more okay with it.

The image I had of parenthood, that idyllic black and white Pleasantville scene, that doesn’t exist. Real life is much more colourful – you’ve just gotta take the blue days with the yellows. And there are so many yellow days coming.

Eliza xx

Here’s my beautiful Bobby when he was about 4 months old. I thought he would never sleep through the night and I thought I wouldn’t cope. But he did end up sleeping through (a lot sooner than I expected), and I did cope. I flourished actually, and I love him with more fierceness everyday.

Oh, and I thought of a third reason for the blog. I like laughing. And honestly, there’s not much funnier than little kids.