The most amazing commercial came across my newsfeed this week.
I rarely pay attention to commercials and only recently have I started paying attention to commercials for baby products. Like, really recently. Three weeks recently. This one was for Lasinoh nipple cream and had you asked me a month ago why I would ever need to buy such a product I would have had no idea.
In fact, there was a lot about myself I had no idea I would learn by now a month ago and this commercial really brought it out of me.
The commercial, called “Dear Me,” features mothers less than a year into motherhood reading aloud letters they had written to their pre-mom selves. The letters are quirky, sweet, and, toward the end, so filled with emotion I couldn’t help but cry along with the moms reading them.
Closing out my third week of motherhood, so much of what the moms said already resonated with me and my new life. So in case I never get asked to be part of Lansinoh’s next “Dear Me” commercial, here’s my own version of a letter to the me I was just one month ago from the me I am today.
Dear A-Month-Ago Me,
Right now you’re probably sitting on your couch, sick to your stomach and wondering just how long you can hold it before you actually have to get up to pee or else your bladder will explode. You’re whining about the round ligament pain, and how you don’t know how much longer you can handle being pregnant.
And you’ve reached the peak point of “this isn’t fair.” You’ve held onto your feelings for the most part and rarely shared how much it kills you inside that you have to be pregnant again just a year after losing your first baby because you know how much others are hurting trying to get pregnant and having a tough time. Maybe have to be is the wrong choice of words, but that’s what you feel… because this is what you have to do to have a baby in your arms.
You’re tired of complaining, but you can’t help it. Being pregnant doesn’t suit you, and it’s really fucking hard.
But guess what! That whole thing people say about “you’ll forget once she’s here” is true. It’s more than true. It’s the truest thing you’ve ever been told.
You’ll look forward to her shrieking cries and her diaper explosions more than you’ve ever looked forward to anything in your life. You’ll watch her sleep for hours during the day, laughing about how it means she won’t sleep at night, but just be glad to see her breathing. The sound of her little snores will surpass the sweetness of hearing your favorite song on replay.
Right now you’re wondering how you’re going to get through labor, let alone what kind of mom you’ll be. You have no patience for the dogs, how will you ever have patience for a human? But you will find patience you never knew you had inside you. Even after four days without more than an hour of sleep. Nothing she will do will upset you, at least for now.
A month from now, you’ll be cool and collected when you walk through the store with your baby riding in a stroller and car seat you have no idea how to put her in right now. You’ll look at all the baby products on the shelves and know why a wipe-warmer could come in handy, and be less grossed out by a Nose Frida (to suck her snot out with your mouth) than you ever thought you could be.
But these aren’t the things that matter.
What matters is that when your baby girl starts to cry in the middle of the night, somehow, out of nowhere, you will instinctively know to pick her up and place her laying down on your chest and that the cries will magically stop. As she starts to fuss, you will just know to massage her tiny little feet that so perfectly each fit in your motherly hands. This will come to you as naturally as breathing, and you will be amazed at how you soothe her.
The sound of your voice will also stop her cries, and that concept alone will bring you to tears at least once a day.
You will feel as if your life has been broken into thirds: the you you were before you were pregnant, the you you are now while you’re pregnant, and the you you’re going to be. And this you you’re going to be is going to be the best version of you you never thought possible, even as you’ve only lived it for three weeks so far. Because you need to be the best you you can be, because she deserves it. She deserves everything.
And you’ll be coming up on your very first Mother’s Day with your little girl, which will come with so many emotions for you, especially considering the hole in your heart that hasn’t healed from last Mother’s Day. You’ll want to spend the whole day holding her and looking at her and thanking God she’s alive. But you do that every day already. So maybe you’ll spend the day celebrating this gift you’ve been given and just know that everything happens for a reason.
Anyway, a-month-from-now-you hasn’t learned how to keep her writing short, so don’t expect that. But do expect to be oh-so emotional, more emotional than you’ve ever been. You have a reason to be. You’re going to be a mom, and it’s going to be the greatest thing you ever do.