Life With A Newborn: Expectation Vs. Reality

  • Parents Only

The excitement and longing for that newborn to finally be placed in your arms…staring at those tiny, gorgeous little eyes like mirrors of your own…those first few gummy smiles…it’s no wonder parents-to-be have pretty unrealistic expectations of life with a newborn. Sure, they’re cute, and boy, do you love them, but reality at times can be a bit of a slap in the face.

Pregnant woman sitting on sofa looking at her unborn baby's ultrasound scan


Expectation: Despite all the tantrum-throwing toddlers in supermarkets that you’ve witnessed, you just know that your children will be different.

Reality: Tantrum, tears, foot stomping and even the occasional kick- you’ve come to accept that kids are all the darn same.


Expectation: There’s no way I’m posting a constant stream of photos to Facebook and Instagram of the baby- mums who do that are lame, and what a transgression of my child’s cyber privacy!

Reality: asks husband, which filter- sepia or valencia?


Expectation: No way is my home turning into a pit of baby junk- it’s all about minimalism, no clutter allowed.

Reality: Sure, we might not need a third bouncy chair, but it would be cruel to deny our baby…


Expectation: I won’t stress when my baby cries- heck, all babies cry! If it’s not crying, is it really even a baby?


crying newborn


Expectation: With a baby, me and my husband will be the ultimate team- nothing can come between us now that we’ve shared this experience. Our love will only deepen, and we’ll always put ‘couple time’ first.

Reality: You’re both utterly exhausted, covered in spew and all sexiness has unceremoniously left the building. What even is date night?


Expectation: I’m prepared to be tired, that’s all part of the gig. I’ll just sleep when the baby does, and hubby will take over some of the late night feeds so I can continue to snooze.

Reality: What even is sleep? These tiny fragments of disjointed ‘rest’ I get nowadays doesn’t really ring any bells…


Expectation: I’m not going to be an over-the-top, helicopter parent. Paranoia just isn’y my style. Germs don’t bother me- you can’t have a child that’s grown up in bubble wrap.

Reality: Germs? Absolutely not, not anywhere in bubs’ vicinity. I know I just put her down to sleep, but checking on her several hundred times throughout the night is mandatory, right?

Newborn baby hold by mother in the baby wrap carrier. Mum calling at the phone. ** Note: Shallow depth of field


Expectation: Motherhood doesn’t give you a free pass to look daggy. I take pride in my appearance now, and that won’t change. People in the street will wolf-whistle at me and yell “MILF”, and I’ll know that I’ve still got it.

Reality: Unwashed hair, stained baggy clothing and track pants. Eyeliner? What’s that?

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