A Guide for Moms from Moms: Don't You Hate when Pride Gets in the Way?

Becoming a mom came easily to me. Early in life I knew I wanted to be a mother and I knew I would be. So after about several months of marriage my husband and I were happily pregnant. There were a few minor complications, but in the end I had my beautiful healthy baby girl. Then came the parenting.

Parenting was something I thought would come naturally to me, but there was nothing natural about it, so to speak. I learned quickly, making a baby and taking care of a baby are two totally different things. I read the parenting books, signed up for mom and me groups, and asked all the questions I had so I would be ready to parent, but despite everything I did to prepare myself I didn't handle it the way I thought I would or should.

When my healthy baby girl came into this world the doubt kicked in fast and strong. I found myself second-guessing everything I did with her. Was I feeding her enough? Was I playing with her enough? Did I give her a good enough bath? Did I put her in her crib correctly? Did I burp her enough? Was it okay to let her cry?

My mother had been there to help for the first two weeks of her birth, but after that she had to go back home and I was left to take care of my baby alone. Sure my husband was there to help when he could, but at the time his work schedule had him sleeping during the days and working at nights. Besides I was sure I could handle it on my own. Boy was I wrong.

The next few weeks were the toughest. She wouldn't stop crying and I couldn't figure out why. I did everything to keep her happy. I fed her. I burped her. I changed her diaper. I rocked her to sleep. I loved her with huge hugs and lots of kisses. I sang to her and talked to her. Then I would put her down in her crib sure she would stay asleep "this time", but I would only have to start all over again

She didn't have a fever, spots, or anything that I could see or feel physically wrong with her. Still she cried. Content in my arms. Whaling out of them. Eventually I found myself crying too. What was I doing wrong? Finally, in the middle of the night, while my husband was at working, I swallowed my pride and called my mother for help. Asking for help had never come easy to me even from the people that were closest to me, like my mom or my husband.

When she heard me crying on the phone I could hear her gasp for air. She asked me what was wrong? I didn't mean to scare her. I explained the situation to her and then I heard her voice relax. I swear I heard a muffled giggle too. In a calm voice she asked me to stop crying, calm down, and then told me to set the baby in the crib and let her cry, just for a little, at least so we could hear each other talk. That made sense.

No one ever assures you that some times its okay to let your baby cry for a few minutes. There is so much debate about it in parenting books, in magazine article, in online discussions. It is so hard to make up your mind and know what is the right thing to do. I couldn't make up my mind. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted a small break. I wanted a few minutes to gather myself, talk to someone and calm down, but I felt guilty because that meant putting my baby back down while she was still crying. After all if a baby cries that must mean something is wrong. Right?

My mother reassured me it was okay to do. It was okay to step away and let the baby cry some times to gather myself. It was for my own sanity and the baby's safety. If my baby's basic needs were met: fed, clean, not running a fever and in a safe place, then my baby was okay. That made sense too.

My mother continued by asking me a few questions about how the baby was acting. Was her stomach hard? Sometimes it would get a little hard. Did she suddenly wake screaming or appear to be in pain? Sometimes she clenches her fist when she cries.

The question and answer thing went on a little longer, until my mom suggested my baby might have colic. She told me about some over-the-counter medicine to help my baby feel better. Then she added to talk to the baby's doctor to be sure. And that is all it took. One phone call and my baby's life as well as my life grew quieter and calmer for the next couple of weeks. Eventually we still had to go through the terrible 2s, the tantrum 3s and 4s and I've been warned that I still have teenagers to deal with and that it is the scariest phase of all.

It's a good thing I've been working on swallowing my pride and asking people for help when I really need help. It still doesn't come easy, but it is getting easier and it helps to tell myself that it doesn't mean I can't handle being a mother. It just means it makes me a better mother for doing something I'm not use to do doing for the health and well being of my children.