The hardest part of being a first-time parent. And why we joke about changing nappies instead.

The other day, while changing Daisy's nappy, Craig turned to me, sighed, and said, "imagine if changing nappies really was the hardest thing about parenting. How great would that be?!"

Imagine that.

Imagine if the hardest parts about parenting were the physical things. Imagine if being awesome at changing a baby, feeding a baby, or getting a baby to sleep, made parenting easy. Imagine. It's so not reality, but wow, I could claim success for one out five baby raising experiences. Instead there is that blurry, we-got-though-it-alive-and-everyone-seems-okay kind of half-success that I think most parents feel. I may be wrong. Maybe there are some super successful parents out there, but from all the parents I've spoken to, most seem to be firmly on my we-got-there-I-think team.

The truth is that all the things that are spoken about, when parenting babies comes up, do not even scratch the surface of the hard parts of parenting. I think that the reason for this is that it is so hard to put into words just what it is that makes it so difficult. And perhaps in some small way it's because it means showing that vulnerable part of ourselves, that is much easier to keep locked away. So we continue to joke about nappies and sleep and home made baby food. We insist that routines or cosleeping or white noise or the right wraps or rocking or dummies or WHATEVER we feel helped in the end, is right, because it is easier than admitting that it was difficult because of something that happened within us. We want so much to help others. To spare them from that altogether helpless, what-do-I-do-now, I-just-wasn't-made-for-this, feeling. We really do. But we can't.

I remember a long while ago sitting quietly in a group of mums, all giving advice to a soon-to-be first time mum. I listened to talk of lack of sleep, routines, eating right, breast feeding, bottle feeding, cloth nappies, disposable nappies and more. Later, I went up and spoke to the soon-to-be mum alone. And this is what I said.

Nothing that you have been told is the hard stuff. Not really. Sure it is not fun getting no sleep, but sometimes you do get sleep, but to be honest I don't think it would make the first time easier. Things don't always go to plan, but you will work out what's right for you and your baby. It's a journey and you will figure it out. That's not the hard part. The hard bit is the emotional part. And there is nothing anyone can say or do to prepare you. All I can say is that you will have a moment when you realise now and forevermore that for this little one, all the responsibility will end with you. Just know that everyone feels it. It's overwhelming, and you are not alone. You will get through it and find an amazing life together.

I left it at that, but it's really so much more.

In that first week of having a new little one, everything changes. And it's not just the no sleep, a brand new not-so-great-body, and pure problem-solving overload.

There is a moment when the word selfish just disappears from your vocabulary. I remember realising that now my life had ceased to be mine alone. I suddenly thought in absolutes, never before experienced. I knew with all that was in me, that I would give my life, if that's what it took. I would do anything, be anything, I needed to be, in order to be his mum. Mum. That moment when I finally knew what that word meant. The moment when the weight of responsibility entered my life, in a way that I knew would never again leave. To say it was overwhelming, seems too plain a statement. It was life changing.

The thing all new parents need to know, is that along with getting more used to changing nappies, and dealing with a lack of sleep, the emotional bit melts into you and feels more right as time goes on. It doesn't get easier, it changes you instead, to be the one that you need to be. It just takes time.

I clearly remember looking out the car window, the day Craig and I took Jack home. Everything felt new and huge. But one thing will forever stand out in my memory of that brief moment. The sky. It was as if I had never seen it before. The blue was a new colour blue. Maybe I'd just never really paid close attention before, I'm not sure, but it was a new sky, for a new life. The old was gone. It was time to tentatively take a step forward into the new.

I've felt that way on the drive home with each of my new babies. With each new child entering our family, the family changes. The new little one never just joined us. We became a new family all over again. And that is a wonderful, scary, overwhelming, miracle. Every. Single. Time.

So, when I chat to a new mum to be, I talk about all the regular things. I tell them to listen to all the advice and then go with whatever works, nothing is set in stone, there is no rod for your back, and the only thing that can be counted on with babies is change. But inside I'm thinking: you are about to see a new blue. The blue of a sky in a world that never existed in the before. You are about to become someone's mummy. It's wonderful and scary and completely overwhelming. And a miracle. Just be patient. The emotional, huge-responsibility part will slowly melt into you, until one day you look back and realise that you are so much more for having moved into the new world.