Passing the Baton

Today I visited a friend who is due to deliver her baby in the next two weeks. She is homebound now, as she has had a very difficult pregnancy. I came especially because I remembered what it was like those last few weeks of my own pregnancy. At the time, I had plenty of time on my hands (boy, those were the days), because physically, there was very little I could do. Sleeping for longer than 3 hours at a time was impossible, and finding the energy to do more than that was difficult. Everyone in my life went about their days as usual, and the circus going on inside my belly was my private event.

As I talked with my friend, I remembered all the fears and questions that came at the end. Sure, a mother-to-be wants the burden of pregnancy over with, but she also cringes at the thought of labor. She wants to be free from the constant kicking in the ribs and breathlessness, but knows the baby is safest in the womb. She yearns for her former life but is excited about the new one. So many things to panic over ...

"What about my single friends? Will they still want to hang around me?"
"Should I take the epidural if the pain gets bad?"
"How will I find time to take a shower during those first weeks after the baby comes?"
"Was breastfeeding hard to learn? Was it worth it?"

The list of questions is, well, quite a list. But who really has all the answers? (Um, me. In short order: (1) Some will, (2) Yes, (3) Late at night or before partner goes to work, (4) Yes. Yes.) Point is, mothers everywhere should do what they can to comfort the newbies. Let's not re-invent the wheel with every baby, folks. Tell 'em there's no point in buying loads of newborn clothing because their children will outgrow it in 2 weeks, and that hair bows/sneakers are both pointless and expensive. But don't give them too much information, as telling the truth about child-rearing will only (a) scare them numb, and (b) make you wonder why you got involved in such a shenanigan in the first place.