The Firstborn.

I have heard people say that their first child is their practice child. This is the child who has the pristine baby book, the thousands of baby pictures and the by-the-book-to-the-letter childrearing.

Though I may have failed at completing the baby book, he does have an insane number of pictures. I can't really comment on the childrearing part yet. But I believe the most startling factor with the firstborn child is the sheer amount of change that comes with having a child.

Becoming a parent isn't a moment - it's a process. From the moment you find out you're pregnant, your life is different. Favorite food is off-limits. Those vitamins previously gathering dust on the shelf become part of a daily ritual. Excitement, fear, wonder and dread are all present in a manic conglomeration of emotions.

Hours are spent speculating how life is going to change. This is a wasted effort, because until it happens, it cannot be comprehended - Plato's allegory of the cave exhibiting its relevance to daily life all over again. Priorities begin to shift without conscious appreciation. The world becomes internally oriented as the baby begins to make its presence known.

And then, after months of waiting, the baby arrives. At that moment you realize - you truly begin to understand - life will never be the same. During those first few days home, punctuated by sleep deprivation, physical discomfort, raging hormones, and a baby who doesn't seem to care you exist, there is some grief in that.

But then things begin to subtly shift. Those ubiquitous baby tears begin to resolve with your voice rather than food or a tight swaddle. Fears of incompetency are slowly replaced with the comfort of practice and acquired knowledge. That first baby smile directed toward you makes you melt - as does the second, the third, the twenty-seventh, and the hundredth. You recognize that things are, in fact, different. Things that seemed so important before have been replaced with moments far more precious and special. And you are glad, truly grateful, that life will never be the same.

Before I had a child, I knew I was in love with my spouse. Now, I see physical proof every day - sure, in the eyes of my child, but also in the care, the love and the utter devotion my spouse lavishes on my child and myself. Our love is deeper as we become united in the common task of raising the child we created together.

My life has definitely changed. I am now a parent. And with that comes the insecurities of parenthood. But also, the confidence acquired in the knowledge that this is our child. Our conceptions of reality, a fusion of our individual upbringings and our shared life together, will become the framework for raising our child in this diverse and beautiful world. We will pass on the values we cherish to our child, who will hopefully come to share our appreciation of the world and the wonder of existence. It is an exciting and humbling endeavor.

This may be our "practice child". But this child is the one who will share the experience of our growing into the role of parenthood as we find our identities as "mom" and "dad". I like to think that perhaps, for him, it will be worth the trade-off of defined routine for the excitement in the establishment of a new shared existence.

Parenting, or something like it.

Once I became a parent, I quickly realized I had no idea what I was doing. Most of my assumptions were wrong. Yet from the first hour with the baby, the hospital staff seemed to be leaving us to our own devices. At the time, I wondered if that was the best idea, particularly with the first breastfeeding episodes. It's only now I realize it may have been best, because once I started getting advice, we began to have problems. I have discovered the most important thing is to try something and then listen to myself and my baby to see if we are comfortable with it.

No one knows what they are doing. And if they say they do, they're lying. They know what (sometimes) worked FOR THEM in their circumstances, or what seems to make sense based on recurrent patterns in previously studied parent-child dyads.

Yet that doesn't mean advice is inherently bad - quite the opposite, in fact. As a new parent, I find myself avidly reading advice from multiple sources, seeking out (often diametrically opposed) medical opinions, and connecting with as many parents as I can, both old and new. I hope to find those special pearls that, when implemented in our household, will make both our child happier and ourselves more sane.

I have heard so many pieces of wisdom I know are jewels, yet they don't work for us, with this particular kid. And other things that work so well, we are making up as we go. Still others didn't work at first, but gentle encouragement from an outside source leads to us trying again and finding it to be a lifesaver. And other things, I disregard immediately, because I know it is not the plan for our family. (It's time to begin to introduce formula supplementation into my breastmilk? Thanks but no thanks, Enfamil. And how did you get my email, anyway?)

Parenthood is a fascinating experience. Though there are certainly days where I am better able to appreciate it than others. Today is a good day. Tomorrow may be less so, because I am squandering valuable sleep time by taking baths and writing blog posts. But some nights, it's totally worth it - at least for me, in this particular moment. *grins*