An open letter to husbands from wives on entering parenthood

My sweet husband,

Here we are. After all this time, here we are. We have this new role. Not only is it just me and you as it’s always been. But the three of us.

There’s a little, perfect bundle, warm and needy, that tugs at our heartstrings. He looks just like you. He has your smile and joyfulness. He’s friendly just like you. He has my ears and silliness. And we hope the world for him.

As we enter this season, I need you to know some things.

My body will often feel like a 24 hour cafe.

I will be exhausted and worn down.

Everything about motherhood will attempt and sometimes succeed to consume me.

I’ll be afraid of messing our sweet baby up or of giving him less than perfect.

He’s so new and fresh and innocent.

I’m afraid of not being the mom he needs me to be.

I’m afraid of not having everything just right, just so, and him resenting me because I did less than perfect.

I’ve heard this comes with the territory of new motherhood - this fear and self-judgement, and it passes with time as I remember that I don’t have to be perfect, just present and giving it my best in love.

Along the journey of settling into being parents and as I work through my fears and finding balance, I recognize that you may find yourself feeling neglected, second-class, and invisible.

Where we once could whisper and laugh and watch funny videos in bed together, snuggled up under the covers, or lay there dreaming and talking about our future together, my attention instead may be on changing a diaper late at night or trying to finally get a few minutes of sleep while the baby finally rests. My tone may at times be disrespectful, and my temper may be short. I may not feel like putting on something sexy and when my chest is leaking and my body doesn't feel like mine. I may not have the energy during this season to be adventurous and spontaneous. But that doesn't mean it's forever.

The lack of sleep and worries and demands of new motherhood may have gotten to me and brought out the worst in my attitude. It may be all consuming. There are days, weeks, and sometimes months where all I’ll feel like doing is staying in because it’s easier than loading everything up and lugging it around amidst the germs and noises. I’m getting used to this role and it’s newness.

The truth is, I’m scared, and I have no clue what I’m doing. I know you think I do but I don’t. All I’ve managed is to randomly picked through ideas I've discovered for how to do things and hoped that they are right for our family as I grasp at the straws in my new responsibility.

There may come a time when you feel pushed to the side. You may feel like I’m not the girl you fell in love with and married. Like I’m boring. Like I know everything and you know nothing. Like you were only needed for the baby-making part. Like all I wanted was kids to fulfill my dreams and you were a means to an end. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Other people will fawn over our new bundle and want to help by cooking and cleaning and burping and changing. The amount of help may even be overwhelming and excessive and feel like our home has a revolving door. But I need you to know that every single one of them is a pisspoor replacement for you-my man and his daddy. There is no one like you. Not all the clean dishes or meals brought by others could replace your presence, your strength, your input, and your role.

The truth is, I need you to know that I need you. I need you to know that you are my best friend and #1 in my life- even before our son- hands down, every single time. I need you to know that your input matters and I want it. I need your help and strength- a strength no one else can give me but you as we lean on each other through this season. Together, as a team.

I need you to know, as sure of myself as I may seem, I’m not at all. I want to do this with you and I cannot do this alone. I’m sorry if in my finding balance as I settle into this role if that isn’t evident. I’m sorry if I seem indifferent to you, annoyed by you, or act disrespectfully toward you or treat you poorly or like you’re incapable. None of that is you, it’s all me. My fears. My flaws. For me to find balance in. That is not my hearts intention by any means. I ask you to forgive me in advance. I ask you to please be patient with me. These changes do not mean I have changed, or that we have changed, but that we are simply readjusting as we make room for a new little person we made together in love.

I need you to know that there will come a day when the dust of new parenthood settles and I won’t be so consumed by tending to him every second of the day. As he grows, we will have become more comfortable in our roles and I can rebalance myself into who I am, in addition to this new role of motherhood. I will once again realize that I’m still very much the girl you married. I’ll realize that I’m still fun, spontaneous, silly, strong, creative, joyful, down to get my hands dirty in a project or up for a night on the town in a little black dress. I'll feel sexy again. My chest won't leak. I will one again be able to actively turn my attention to you and us and our individual and collective dreams where it rightfully belongs, where my heart has truly been the entire time.

The truth is, I thank God for this sweet blessing of ours, but all I’ve ever truly wanted was life with you, with any kids we have being an outpouring of that. It’s because of my love, admiration, and enjoyment of you that I wanted to build a family with you. A life with just you and me couldn’t have ever been me settling. Our sweet boy is just a bonus. I don’t need more babies or my own plan and expectations, I just need the plan God has for us and discovering it together as it unfolds as we build our life together. Dreaming and figuring out life, becoming the people we want to be, and having a blast while doing it. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.

Love forever and always,

Your wife