I became a mother a little bit earlier than most. We were fresh out of college and I had enough of a baby face that the old Irish women in our neighborhood would routinely stop me and (rudely) ask “How old are you?!” For some reason I would humor them and tell them I was 23, which generally made them think twice since they were my age or younger when they welcomed their first bundle of joy.
But I digress.
One of the difficult things about having babies on the early side is that you feel like more of a guinea pig than the typical first-time mom. It’s normal to feel completely out of your element when you first dip your toes into the seemingly shark-infested waters of early parenthood. Everyone does. What can make it even more nerve wracking is feeling like you’re the first.
I mean, obviously, I was nowhere near the first human to ever birth another human. But when you’re the first in your group of friends and the first in your family to have a tiny human burst into your life within the last, oh, 15 years oh so, you feel like you’re navigating uncharted territory.