Before I had my daughter, I had so many ideas of what kind of mom I would be.
I was going to have a natural, drug-free birth. I was going to breastfeed for at least six months. We wouldn’t introduce solids until six months to maximize the amount of breast milk she was getting. I was going to lose all the baby weight in the first few months, without much effort. I mean, everyone says that if you’re breast feeding, the weight just magically falls off, right? I wasn’t going to have any problems with the baby blues because I would just be so ecstatically happy all of the time. I was so sure I would be able to comfort my child. She would be a good sleeper and a great eater. Failure wasn’t even an option I considered.
I simply knew that I was designed by God to be a mother. So it would all come naturally. What could possibly go wrong?