Hey mama,
If you’re reading this with a baby in your arms or a cold cup of coffee beside you, I want to start by saying: I see you. This phase of life is so full—so raw, so intense, so beautifully chaotic. Some days feel like magic, others feel like survival. I’m three months into being a first-time mom and I wanted to write the kind of note I wish someone had handed me in those early, foggy days.
Here’s the truth: you’re doing better than you think.
The Fog Is Starting to Lift (Even Just a Little)
There’s something that shifts around the three-month mark. Maybe it’s not dramatic, but it’s there—this tiny glimmer of rhythm and relief. Sleep starts to look a little more predictable. (Not perfect, but hey, we’ll take progress.)
There are giggles and chuckles now. Smiles that aren’t just gas. Those little baby laughs warm your heart in a way nothing else ever has. And lately, when Oliver looks at me and smiles like he recognizes me—knows that I’m his mom—it fills my soul. It’s such a simple thing, but it makes all the hard moments feel lighter.
Soon enough you might find yourself breathing a little deeper. Not because it’s all easy, but because you’re starting to find your new normal. A normal that includes spit-up on your shirt and tea you’ve microwaved three times—but also includes this overwhelming, surprising love. I’ve felt many lows in my life before becoming a mom, but nothing I’ve experienced before could have prepared me for the highs of motherhood.
The Little Things That Help
I’m not here to give you a perfectly packaged routine or a magical list to make things “better.” But I can share what’s been helping me in this season as a first time mom. Maybe some of these will help you, too:
If the weather allows, we take a stroller walk after Oliver’s first nap. Just 20 minutes of fresh air changes my outlook on the day—and Oliver seems to enjoy it most days too.
Having my partner give a bottle. Those little breaks have been game-changers. Even if I just sit in silence or doom scroll, having that free time with unoccupied arms feels like a deep breath.
Shortening the to-do list. Mothering is literally a full time job, and I’ve learned to aim for completing just one or two things a day outside of that. If I get a load of laundry done and respond to a text, that’s enough.
A hot shower + freshly washed hair. It’s simple, but WOW it makes me feel more human. There’s something powerful in doing something just for you, even if it’s tiny. And washing the sweat and spit up off is a quick way to skyrocket your mood.
Low-pressure outings: a quick trip to the park or a coffee shop with outdoor seating. We started experimenting with outings outside of visiting family and friends (more towards the 2 month mark). Being around people—even strangers—reminds me that life exists beyond our living room.
You Don’t Have to Love Every Moment
I want to say something that took me a few weeks to accept: you don’t have to love every single moment of this.
You’re allowed to feel tired. Touched out. Cranky. Lonely. You’re allowed to want a break—even crave one. You can love your baby more than life itself AND want time alone. Those feelings can coexist. Needing space doesn’t make you a bad mom. It makes you a human one.
If you’re looking for ways to enjoy this phase more, I listed some things that helped me romanticize some of the harder moments in this post.
You’re Not Failing—You’re Becoming
Every day, I’m learning more about my baby—and about myself. I’m learning how strong I am. How soft. How resilient. How much I can hold, and also when to ask for help.
This season is hard, but it’s also short and sacred. And it’s shaping us both.
To You, Right Now
So to the mom in the thick of it: you are not alone.
You are allowed to cry in the shower (and bed, and closet, and car, and grocery store), and laugh five minutes later. You’re allowed to say this is beautiful and also say it’s hard. You’re allowed to miss who you were, while growing into someone entirely new.
Be gentle with yourself. Give yourself grace. Your baby doesn’t need perfect. They just need you.
You’re doing an incredible job. And it won’t always feel like this—I promise.
With love,
A first time mom who’s right here with you