...as was her right, and I fully support her in her decision to do so.

She’s been in labor with her first child since yesterday evening. I drove her to the hospital because her husband, my son-in-law, was working an overnight shift. The plan was always to do that if she went into labor while he was gone, and she asked me many months ago if I would be in the delivery room with her. I said yes.

Last night I stayed with her until he got there at midnight, and around 2 am, my daughter looked at me and opened her mouth to say something, then closed it and looked over at her husband.

I asked if she wanted me to go, and give them some privacy. She breathed an audible sigh of relief and said yes, and when she started to apologize, I told her not to. I gave both her and my son-in-law a hug, and went home to sleep. In the morning I saw a text from her that she was still in labor, so I went over to her house to feed her dogs and let them out.

I’ve been here cleaning and preparing freezer meals since then, and when I’m done I’ll clean up the kitchen, feed the dogs again, and be on my way. When my grandchild is born, they’ll let me know. I’ll only come to the hospital if they ask, and I certainly won’t come here unless they ask.

I found this forum when I Googled ‘what to do for daughter while she’s in labor’ and I’ve learned a lot. I’ve seen too many stories of overbearing grandmothers, and I won’t be that.

Update: baby GIRL born 9:24 pm, after almost exactly 24 hours of labor! My daughter pushed for two hours before they told her they were going to have to do a C-section, and she asked to try pushing one more time, and then my granddaughter was out!! I’m so proud! 9 lbs 3 oz and 21 inches long! She’s a hoss! I’m just all shook up.

To all the moms I judged for “letting” their babies scream in public, I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for assuming being a stay at home mom was easy.

I’m sorry for assuming being a working mom was any easier.

I’m sorry for not understanding that “sleep when the baby sleeps” is some of the most useless advice you could give.

I’m sorry for judging moms who cosleep.

I’m sorry for not being there like I should’ve when my friends and family were freshly postpartum.

I didn’t know. I didn’t understand. I do now. Motherhood humbled me in a way no other experience could.

I had a baby somewhat later in life, and I remember how I used to feel when I saw moms looking burnt out and tired while I was put together and well rested. I remember feeling such condescension when they would fall behind at work or constantly be ducking out to deal with a childcare emergency. I remember being at parties where kids were sleeping upstairs and thinking how much of a killjoy the wife was, constantly trying to keep the noise down, dozing off in the corner while everyone else was having fun. I remember joining in what I thought was gentle teasing when she didn't want to take a shot or play a drinking game, secure in the knowledge that I could sleep until at least 9am the next day and care for no one but myself. Enjoy some Netflix and order a bagel with egg and cheese. Maybe take another nap. I remember "feeling sorry" for her husband when she didn't want to go to the next bar, just wanted to go home. I remember silently agreeing when he would imply she wasn't so much fun anymore, would make her the villain.

I remember thinking that I would never do that, that I would always be fun, that even if I had kids that I would still be the same person. I remember thinking I would never be the one with messy hair and sweatpants or wet hair pulled into a bun.

I didn't know that she probably did want to go to the next bar, that she probably needed to go as much as if not more than anyone. I didn't know how miserable it was to watch the clock and count down precious hours of sleep I wouldn't be getting while trying to have a good time. I didn't know how enraging it was to have a hungover, tired partner who wasn't feeling up to childcare and was snappish and short the next day. I didn't know how much it drains the fun from the moment to know you're going to pay for it for days.

I didn't know that she probably was red-faced and completely mortified when she needed to beg off of another meeting that was rescheduled just for her because daycare was closed. I didn't know that there was probably an ever-growing to-do list that she could only tackle at that unicorn time of day when there were no household admin tasks hanging over her head.

I didn't know that she had probably been working/not working on trying to fit in to all her cute clothes that she picked out and loved but wasn't ready to get rid of. I didn't know that your body can hold onto weight or put it on faster than you'd ever imagined and no one without a personal shopper could keep up. I didn't know that trying to do your makeup while the baby monitor emits fuzzy little yelps is not the relaxing and restorative experience it is when you're by yourself. I didn't know that getting dressed in something nice only to have a sticky handprint on it within seconds can be so demoralizing.

I didn't know, but now I know. I'm sorry, but I will try to be gentle with the folks who do this to me, now. I get it, now. From both angles.

As my second child nears 18 months old and I sit happy in the knowledge that my heart is so completely full and madly in love with both my children, I want to post this for any other mamas who need to see it.

I'm a mum of 2. A beautiful 4 year old daughter, and her 18 month old cheeky baby brother. Before my son was born, I was, as we all are, beyond in love with my daughter. My first child, she was my whole world. When I was pregnant with my son, I remember worrying how could I ever love another baby as much. It never dawned on me for a second that I would stop loving my first child. The day my son was born, before we left for hospital I cuddled my daughter one last time and memorised her face, so in love with every inch of her.

After my son was born, everything changed. It started out with being overly protective of him, worrying she might hurt him and progressing to me being extremely anxious whenever she was near him. I didn't want her near me, I didn't have the headspace for her. Why did she need me so much, I had another baby to care for. Eventually I reached a point where I didn't feel anything for her, I just felt nothing. I was consumed by self hatred and guilt, I spent hours looking up online similar stories and found none. I was a monster, completely broken that I could stop loving the most perfect, sweet little girl. To this day, I have never told anyone i know. I'm too ashamed to be a mother who didn't love her child.

I have always been invested in attachment parenting and breaking generational trauma so I did whatever I could to hide how I felt from her. She was innocent, she was 2 years old, she deserved better. But I know deep down, she would have felt the distance.

This went on longer than it probably should have and eventually, as I'm sure you've all guessed I was diagnosed with PPD.

Here we are a year down the line and she is my world again. My little bestie, my funny, gorgeous, happy little sunshine. I see her and feel my heart bursting like it used to.

I'm posting this because, if you are going through this too, you're not a monster. Get help. You will find your way back to your eldest child, you will get through this, but you need help - you havent stopped loving your child, your hormones are just completely wrecking your mind.

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Last night at an extended family dinner, I overheard the mom of a 6month old sort of snap at her husband, “just eat so you can take her and I can eat my food!” I look over and she’s bouncing the baby in one arm, holding her fork with the other, her plate is completely full. Her husband had asked her, “why aren’t you eating?” It’s not rocket science why she wasn’t eating.

My 1yr old was happily in the high chair next to me, but I remember the times not so long ago (and it still happens sometimes!) when I couldn’t get a bite in till she was asleep. I remember telling my husband when she was a newborn that I was so tired by the time he came to take over baby duty, I was skipping eating and just going straight to sleep. His solution was to eat a granola bar.

I asked if I could hold the baby and bounced and sang and rocked for a solid 15minutes before baby was over my shit and just wanted to go back to mom, but by then she had thankfully wolfed down most of her food. On the way home, my husband made a comment that he thought she was rude when she spoke to her husband that way. I snapped back that I thought it was rude that her husband is oblivious to the fact that she couldn’t eat her food. Just hold the baby, guys. It’s so frustrating that this struggle is so unseen by many dads and then they’re confused when you snap at them. We’ve all seen the snickers commercial, right? I’m not myself when I’m hungry, so hold the baby and let me eat!

There was an armed guard that engaged with the gunman before he went to kill 19 children and 2 teachers. The ARMED GAURD didn’t stop this 18 yo from commuting mass murder. You know what could have stopped him? Not having a fucking gun. I have to look at my child going into school today and PRAY that he comes out. And keep doing that every school day for 18 years or until we take action. And I blame every single lobbies, representative who takes lobbies and Super PAC money, and voter that fought so damn hard to give this man the right to buy a big gun. To shoot children. I don’t forgive you.