What We’d Do Differently Next Time We Have a Baby

What We’d Do Differently Next Time We Have a Baby

There are approximately seven million things people tell you before you have your first baby.

Make freezer meals.

Sleep when the baby sleeps.

Accept help.

Buy this.

Don’t buy that.

Don’t tell people too early.

Take everything from the hospital that isn’t bolted to the floor.

And while some of that advice is genuinely helpful, I’ve learned that there are certain things you simply cannot fully understand until you’ve actually brought a baby home.

You can research.

You can prepare.

You can ask every mom you know.

But nothing quite replicates finding yourself three days postpartum, running on almost no sleep, trying to figure out dinner while simultaneously wondering how something the size of a potato requires this much laundry.

Now that we’re several months removed from the newborn stage with Barrett, there are already quite a few things Seth and I have talked about doing differently if we’re blessed with another baby someday.

Not because our first experience was terrible.

Not because I think there is some magical way to perfectly prepare for postpartum.

And definitely not because I think every mom should make the exact same choices I would.

We simply know ourselves better now.

We know what actually helped us.

We know what we underestimated.

And we know which things made life unnecessarily difficult because First-Time-Parent Angel and Seth had absolutely no idea what was coming.

So if we ever get to do this all over again, here’s what I’d change.

1. I Would Prepare WAY More Food

This is probably number one.

And I mean way more.

About a week before my due date, Seth and I finally carved out the time—and I finally found enough third-trimester energy—to prepare some freezer meals.

I made around a dozen breakfast sandwiches just for myself.

Some were sausage, egg and cheese. Some were bacon, egg and cheese. I used a combination of bagels and English muffins so I had at least a little bit of variety.

And honestly?

They were fantastic.

They were exactly what I needed.

I could grab one quickly in the morning, eat something substantial, and know that I was getting some protein and calories while trying to breastfeed and establish my milk supply.

The problem was that I made twelve.

Twelve breakfasts.

Seth isn’t really a breakfast person, so thankfully he wasn’t eating them too, but still.

Twelve mornings into postpartum, they were gone.

Next time?

I’d make at least a month’s worth... Probably more.

I’d do breakfast sandwiches again, but I’d also add breakfast burritos, homemade breakfast bowls, maybe some muffins or other things that freeze well.

And instead of waiting until one week before my due date, I would spread that preparation out.

If I felt well enough during the last month or two of pregnancy, I’d probably designate one day each week to make one freezer-friendly thing.

Future postpartum me would absolutely thank pregnant me for that.

2. I Would Be Much More Strategic About Freezer Dinners

We also made somewhere around seven to ten freezer dinners before Barrett was born.

Which sounded like a pretty decent amount when I was pregnant.

It was not.

That was essentially one week of food.

And to make matters worse, around a third of the meals didn’t even work particularly well.

I had casseroles and baked spaghetti and other meals that were supposed to be easy to pull out, thaw and bake.

Except apparently my refrigerator did not receive the memo that food is supposed to thaw overnight.

People always say, “Just put it in the refrigerator the night before!”

Ma’am...

If I put something frozen solid in my refrigerator tonight, there is a very real possibility it will still resemble an iceberg tomorrow.

Some things in our fridge need two or three days.

So we would think a casserole was thawed, put it in the oven and discover approximately seventeen years later that the center was still cold.

Not ideal when you are starving, breastfeeding and holding a newborn.

Next time, I’d choose freezer meals much more strategically.

Things that reheat easily.

Meals portioned into smaller containers.

Soups.

Slow-cooker dump meals.

Foods that can go straight from freezer to cooking without needing a perfectly timed thaw.

Individually portioned meals.

Things where I’m not discovering an ice crystal in the center at 8:45 p.m.

Because the whole point of a postpartum freezer meal is to make dinner easier.

If dinner requires an engineering degree and forty-eight hours of advance planning, we have defeated the purpose.

3. I Would Say Yes to the Meal Train

This one is probably less about food and more about me learning to accept help.

I naturally have a very hard time asking people for things.

I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.

I don’t want anybody to feel obligated.

I don’t want to feel like a burden.

So my default setting tends to be:

“I’m fine. We’ll figure it out.”

Even if figuring it out is wildly inconvenient.

My mother-in-law and I actually talked about doing a meal train while I was pregnant.

And I ultimately decided against it.

Next time?

Absolutely not.

Sign me up.

Bring the lasagna.

Bring the chicken nuggets.

Bring the Little Caesars pizza.

Send the DoorDash gift card.

We are accepting all forms of nourishment.

After the freezer meals ran out and our moms and my sister had brought us a few meals, we were maybe a week and a half or two weeks postpartum and suddenly back to asking:

“What are we eating tonight?”

Which is such an innocent question until you ask it while both people have newborn brain.

Then it becomes a hostage negotiation.

I also think I would be very comfortable telling whoever coordinated the meal train that takeout is

completely welcome.

Nobody has to lovingly prepare an elaborate casserole.

A $5 pizza still means I didn’t have to cook dinner.

That counts.

And depending on your comfort level, you can also be specific about dietary needs, favorite restaurants or whether you prefer restaurant meals over homemade food.

The point isn’t being fancy.

The point is feeding a family that has approximately zero available brain cells.

4. I Would Stock an Absurd Amount of Easy Breastfeeding Snacks

I drastically underestimated how hungry breastfeeding would make me.

And how inconvenient hunger becomes when the baby is asleep on you.

Or nursing.

Or screaming.

Or you’re pumping.

There were plenty of times those first few weeks when Seth had to run back to the store because we simply had not stocked enough easy, filling food for me.

Next time, I would have an entire stash ready before the baby was born.

And not aspirational health-food snacks I technically own but secretly don’t want.

Actual food I enjoy eating.

Protein shakes would absolutely be high on the list because you can drink one with one hand.

Turkey snack sticks.

String cheese.

Jerky.

Protein chips.

Protein bars I actually like.

Little protein snack packs with cheese, nuts, dried fruit and meat.

Things that require virtually no preparation.

Because “I’ll just make myself lunch” sounds completely reasonable until you have a newborn attached to your body and realize making lunch involves approximately nine more steps than you are emotionally

prepared for.

Now that I’m farther into breastfeeding, I know which foods I consistently reach for.

Next time, I’d use that knowledge ahead of time.

5. I Would Stock Hydration Supplies Too

Same goes for drinks.

I knew breastfeeding moms needed water.

I did not fully understand how thirsty I would be.

That first couple of weeks, Seth made repeated trips to buy drinks because I kept going through them.

Next time, I’d stock up ahead of time on electrolyte drinks and hydration packets I already know I like.

BodyArmor was something I drank a lot during those earlier breastfeeding months, and I also really like Liquid I.V.-style hydration packets—especially the Aldi version because they’re cheaper and taste good.

These days I don’t rely on BodyArmor nearly as much, but I still reach for an electrolyte packet if I know I haven’t been drinking enough water.

The bigger lesson for me isn’t that every breastfeeding mom needs one specific brand.

It’s that I would remove as many barriers as possible between postpartum me and adequate food and hydration.

Because when I’m exhausted, hungry and holding a baby, convenience wins.

Every time.

6. I Would Declutter Even More Before the Baby Came

I actually did a lot of this.

The last couple of months of pregnancy, I was nesting hard.

I decluttered.

I cleaned random areas of the house I normally ignored.

I organized things.

I tried to knock out all those annoying little home projects that had been sitting around forever.

And every night toward the end of pregnancy, I would try to go to bed with the house reasonably clean because I kept thinking:

“What if tonight is the night?”

Of course, Barrett eventually had to be evicted via scheduled induction, so all my nightly suspense was unnecessary.

And naturally, the night before my induction—the one night when I actually knew we were leaving for the hospital—the house wasn’t nearly as spotless as I had been keeping it.

Of course.

Next time, though, I would go even further with the decluttering.

And more importantly, I would intentionally leave empty space.

Not drawers where everything technically fits if arranged like Tetris.

Actual space.

Because you come home from the hospital with stuff.

Paperwork.

Medical supplies.

Bags.

Gifts.

Baby items people bring over.

Packages that arrive.

Things you brought to the hospital and do not remotely feel like unpacking.

Our suitcases stayed open in the living-room floor for what felt like two weeks.

The kitchen counter collected paperwork.

Random things just accumulated everywhere.

And because I was recovering from a C-section, I physically could not clean and reset my house the way I normally would.

That stressed me out.

We were correctly prioritizing the important things—keeping Barrett alive, making sure I was healing, eating something occasionally—but the visual clutter still affected me.

So next time, my goal would be:

Don’t just organize the house before the baby. Create margin in the house before the baby.

7. I Would Deep Clean the House Right Before Delivery—With Help

Again, I did as much of this as I reasonably could myself.

But if someone offered next time to help me thoroughly clean the house before the baby came?

I would say yes.

Immediately.

No fake politeness.

No “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

Here is the mop. Godspeed.

If finances allowed, I would absolutely consider having a professional cleaning service come shortly before delivery.

And if that wasn’t in the budget, I would happily accept a cleaning day from friends or family who genuinely wanted to help.

Bathrooms.

Floors.

Kitchen.

Dusting.

Fresh sheets.

Anything that makes the house feel reset.

Because I now know how much calmer I feel when my environment is relatively under control.

And there is already so much you cannot control about childbirth and newborn life.

Coming home to a clean(er) house is one thing I would absolutely try harder to give myself.

8. I Would Buy More Postpartum Pads and Better Postpartum Underwear

Let’s talk about one of the less adorable parts of having a baby.

Postpartum bleeding.

I had a C-section, and yes—you still bleed afterward.

I bled for around six weeks.

And I drastically underestimated how many pads I would use.

I brought home every hospital pad I could get my hands on and had purchased some ahead of time, but I still wish I had bought more.

And I mean the big ones.

Long.

Heavy-duty.

Borderline comical.

Because one of the things that bothered me most during early postpartum was constantly worrying:

“Am I about to bleed through this?”

Onto the couch.

Onto the bed.

Onto my clothes.

It was one more thing taking up mental space when my brain was already full.

Next time, I would buy more heavy-duty pads and postpartum underwear that I actually liked and felt secure wearing.

Not cute.

Secure.

Postpartum fashion can most definitely wait.

9. I Would Have One Good Washable Bed Pad Ready

One thing I did have that I absolutely appreciated was one of those waterproof washable pads like they put underneath you in the hospital bed.

I brought one home from the hospital and later bought a couple more.

In hindsight, I really didn’t need three.

One good one would have been plenty.

But during those first heavier-bleeding days, that thing gave me so much peace of mind.

I would put it underneath me in bed.

I’d put it underneath me on the couch.

Did I necessarily need it every time?

Probably not.

Did my anxious postpartum brain enjoy knowing I wasn’t about to ruin our furniture?

Absolutely.

So next time, I’d have one ready.

10. We Would Limit Hospital Visitors

This is probably one of the biggest changes we’ve talked about.

Barrett was born around nine o’clock at night after approximately thirty-six hours of labor that ended in a C-section.

That first night actually wasn’t terrible.

Newborns are usually pretty sleepy immediately after birth, and we managed to get at least some rest.

The next day, we thought:

“We’re doing great!”

Famous last words.

We had visitors coming in and out throughout the day.

We were awake.

Barrett was sleeping.

Everyone wanted to meet him.

It felt completely fine at the time.

And then Night Two happened.

Apparently there is something people sometimes refer to as “second night syndrome,” and I have a bone to pick with every person who had a baby before me for not adequately warning us.

Because that child did not sleep.

Which meant we did not sleep.

My milk wasn’t fully in yet, we didn’t realize initially that he wasn’t getting enough, and I was trying to breastfeed essentially all night.

I was falling asleep.

Seth was staying awake trying to keep me awake.

Then the sleep deprivation compounded.

By the following nights, we were both so mentally and physically exhausted that we were barely functioning.

Seth would fall asleep for seconds and jerk awake convinced he heard Barrett crying when Barrett was sound asleep.

We both cried.

We both had moments where we genuinely wondered how human beings survived this.

We did... Obviously.

But next time?

Visitors can wait.

11. In the Hospital, We Are Sleeping When That Baby Sleeps

Before having a baby, everyone says:

“Sleep when the baby sleeps.”

And I always interpreted that as general postpartum advice.

Like six weeks later, if the baby naps, maybe you nap too.

And sure.

But in my experience, that phrase should be printed in 72-point font on the hospital wall.

IF THE NEWBORN IS ASLEEP, YOU GO TO SLEEP.

Do not sit there entertaining visitors because you feel perfectly fine.

Do not assume you’ll sleep tonight.

Do not think, “We’re actually doing pretty well!”

That baby may have plans for you.

Next time, hospital sleep will be treated like a scarce natural resource.

If baby sleeps, we sleep.If visitors are there and baby falls asleep?

Love you— goodbye.

We have LEARNED.

12. We’ll Probably Keep the Pregnancy Private a Little Longer

This one is less about postpartum preparation and more about protecting something that feels special to us.

When I found out I was pregnant with Barrett, we had been trying to have a baby for almost three years.

So naturally, I wanted to scream it from the rooftops.

We told our closest friends immediately.

We told family pretty early too.

And I don’t necessarily regret that.

That season was incredibly special, and I loved sharing it with people we loved.

But we also learned that once you tell someone information, you no longer completely control where that information goes.

Even if you say:

“Please do not tell anyone.”

Sometimes people tell someone.

Usually because they’re excited.

Usually without malicious intent.

But once the news is out, it’s out.

Next time, there will probably be certain people we wait longer to tell.

Not because we love them less.

Not because we’re trying to be secretive.

Simply because we may want to keep that little piece of our family’s story between us for a while.

13. We Would Be Much Firmer About Birth Announcements, Names and Photos

Along those same lines, next time we will be much clearer about what can and cannot be shared after the baby is born.

Especially the baby’s name.

And photos.

We want the opportunity to announce our own child (and we got to, but just for the sake of including that in this post as something we are planning to do again).

That feels like a very reasonable thing to want.

So next time, there probably won’t be any ambiguity. There will be a lot more firmness.

Please do not post the baby.

Please do not announce the name.

Please do not send pictures around unless we’ve said it’s okay.

Let us have our moment first.

There are so few experiences in life that belong completely to your little family before the rest of the world gets access to them.

I’ve learned that I value protecting some of those moments more than I realized.

The Biggest Thing I’d Do Differently? Accept More Help and Protect More Rest

When I look at this whole list, there’s actually a pretty obvious theme.

I would prepare more.

But I would also try to do less.

I would make more food beforehand so I had to cook less afterward.

I would declutter more beforehand so there was less to manage afterward.

I would stock more snacks and drinks so Seth had to make fewer emergency Walmart trips.

I would accept more help.

I would have fewer visitors.

I would protect our sleep.

I would protect our privacy.

Basically, I would create as much margin as possible.

And that’s probably the biggest thing first-time motherhood taught me about preparation.

Preparation isn’t just buying enough baby stuff.

Sometimes preparation means intentionally making your life emptier before it becomes very, very full.

Less stuff.

Fewer obligations.

Fewer decisions.

More food.

More rest.

More boundaries.

More room to figure things out.

And I’m sure if we ever have another baby, that baby will find approximately forty-seven completely new ways to humble us anyway.

Because babies seem to enjoy doing that.

But at least next time, we’ll have more breakfast sandwiches.