What I Wish I Knew Before My First Baby: Advice for Moms from a Mom of Three

I remember sitting in the nursery a few weeks before my due date, feeling like I had done everything right. The hospital bag was packed. The car seat was installed. I had read the books, attended the class, downloaded the app. I genuinely believed that if I prepared enough, I’d feel ready.

And then my daughter arrived, and I realized pretty quickly that no amount of preparation gets you ready for that.

I’m now a mom of three, and I’ve been photographing Twin Cities families for over 16 years. I’ve sat in hospital rooms within hours of birth. I’ve photographed babies who are days old, and kids who are now heading into college. I’ve watched so many families step into that first year, and I’ve lived through my own version of it three times.

I’ve also spent the past several months doing something I wish was around before I had my first baby: having real, honest conversations with the women who actually support moms through pregnancy, birth, and postpartum. My Made for Minnesota Moms series started because I kept meeting incredible providers and thinking, other moms need to know about this. Those conversations have taught me so much. Some of it, I’m passing along here.

This is the advice for moms I wish someone had given me before baby number one. Not a checklist. Not a survival guide. Just honest things that took me longer than they should have to figure out.

If you’re looking for a low-stress, authentic photography experience for your family, I’d love to hear from you.

Before My First Baby, I Thought I Had to Have It All Figured Out

I spent a lot of time during my first pregnancy trying to know things in advance. What kind of birth I wanted. Whether I’d breastfeed. How I’d handle sleep. I had opinions on all of it before my baby had even arrived.

What I didn’t know is that your baby hasn’t read any of those plans. They shows up and immediately start doing whatever they want, and you spend the first few weeks just trying to keep up.

The most useful advice for new moms I can offer here is this: hold your plans loosely. Have them, yes. But know that flexibility isn’t failure. It’s actually the thing that gets you through.

What I Wish I Knew About Postpartum Recovery

Nobody prepared me for what my body would feel like after birth. And I say that as someone who was surrounded by experienced moms. We talk so much about pregnancy and labor, and then the conversation just kind of… stops.

Here’s what I’ve learned, both from my own experience and from the incredible women I’ve had on my Made for Minnesota Moms series:

• The first 48 hours are raw. You’re exhausted, you’re sore, and you’re simultaneously the most in love you’ve ever been in your life. It’s a lot to hold at once.
• Recovery takes longer than six weeks. Dr. Britt Stamer, the naturopathic doctor I work with personally, put it plainly: “Six weeks is just the beginning.” Your body grew a human. Give it the same grace you’d give anyone recovering from something hard. If you want real-life resources for what that can look like, I put together a full postpartum care kit for Minneapolis moms that covers actual local support.
• The mental load kicks in fast. Tips for new moms around physical recovery are easy to find. The emotional weight of being someone’s entire world is harder to prepare for.

One thing that changed how I think about birth and recovery is my conversation with Dr. Jesse Lillejord at Chiro for Moms. She works almost exclusively with pregnant and postpartum women in Wayzata, and her insight on how birth affects the body (both baby’s and yours) was something I genuinely didn’t know before doing this series. Getting chiropractic support after birth isn’t a luxury. For a lot of moms, it’s what makes those early weeks actually manageable.

And if you’re planning to breastfeed, please know this: struggling doesn’t mean you’re failing. I had three totally different feeding experiences with my three kids. Dr. Jess Roth at Chiro for Moms is a chiropractor and lactation consultant who looks at both mom and baby as a whole system. That kind of support makes such a difference, especially in those first few days when you’re running on nothing and breastfeeding feels impossible. Her advice: if you’re struggling on day one, don’t wait. Get support early.

One thing I now tell every expecting mom: pack the things that make you feel like yourself. A robe you actually love. Your own toiletries. Chapstick. The hospital gives you a lot, but it doesn’t give you comfort. 

I put together a full breakdown of what actually matters in this hospital bag post.

The Comparison Trap Is Real, and It Starts Immediately

Parenting advice in 2026 is everywhere, and so much of it is built on the premise that someone else is doing it better than you.

I fell into this trap hard with my first. I was looking at other babies who slept longer, other moms who seemed calmer, other nurseries that looked better put together. It took me way too long to recognize that what I was seeing was a highlight reel, not a whole life.

This is the advice for moms I come back to again and again: comparison robs you of the season you’re actually in. Your baby isn’t behind. You’re not failing. You’re just in it, which is exactly where you’re supposed to be.

Something Hannah Lewis at Radiant Health Collective said in our conversation really stuck with me. She’s a functional medicine nurse practitioner, and she told me that so many of her patients arrive after being told their labs are “normal” but still feeling exhausted, foggy, and not like themselves. That pattern of being dismissed, being told it’s “just part of being a mom”, is its own version of the comparison trap. We start to believe that feeling depleted is what we’re supposed to feel. It’s not.

What I Wish I Knew About Asking for Help

I was not good at this with my first baby. I wanted to prove I could do it, which is the least useful thing you can want when you’re running on three hours of sleep with a newborn who won’t latch.

Tips for new parents around help-asking tend to be vague. “Accept help when offered.” Okay, but what does that actually look like?

Here’s what I’ve learned, both through my own experience and from my conversation with Joy McAfee at Joy the Village Doula:

• Be specific when people ask. When someone says “let me know if you need anything,” give them an actual answer. “Can you drop off food on Tuesday?” is so much easier for everyone than “I’m fine, thanks.”
• Lower the bar for what counts as help. Someone holding the baby while you shower is help. Someone texting to check in is help.
• Get a postpartum doula if you can. I mean this. Joy put it clearly in our conversation: postpartum doula support is not a luxury. In every culture, there has always been some version of a postpartum helper. She calls it “mothering the mother”. Someone coming into your home to cover newborn care, meal prep, light tidying, and just holding space so you can actually rest.

Joy also said something I haven’t been able to stop thinking about: she believes that by giving parents the best possible start, she’s helping shape the future for her own children and community too. That reframed help-asking for me entirely. It’s not just about you. It’s about building something bigger.

Asking for help is not a sign that you’re struggling more than other people. It’s a sign that you’re paying attention to what you actually need. That’s good parenting advice for new moms, and honestly good advice for moms at every stage.

Nobody Warned Me About the Mom I’d Become

Here’s the thing about advice for moms that tends to get skipped: you change. And not in a vague, inspirational way. In a specific, concrete, sometimes-disorienting way.

Things that used to matter stop mattering. Things you never thought about become everything. You discover patience you didn’t know you had, and impatience you’re not proud of. You’re more tired than you’ve ever been, and also more certain of things than you’ve ever been.

I didn’t expect to become the mom I am. What actually happened is that I became someone I had to get to know.

It’s one of my favorite things about this season of life, looking back. You don’t just have a baby. You grow into someone new alongside them.

The Things That Felt Huge Then Feel Small Now

With my first, I was convinced that every decision was permanent. Every sleep choice, every feeding method, every moment I got wrong felt like it mattered more than it probably did.

With my third, I can tell you: most of it irons itself out. Not all of it. But most.

This is where being honest with yourself matters. I’ve been working with Dr. Britt Stamer, a naturopathic doctor here in Minnesota, for two years now. Not during pregnancy. I came to her after three babies, after years of brushing off symptoms and telling myself I was “just tired.” When I started working with her, I realized how much I had normalized. Things I thought were just part of motherhood turned out to be things worth addressing. That shift, being seen as a whole person instead of a checklist, changed how I show up for my family.

So when I say some things iron out, I also want to say: pay attention to the ones that don’t. Persistent exhaustion, mood changes, symptoms you keep explaining away, those are worth talking to someone about. Not just powering through.

The things that actually stick are the ones you almost didn’t notice at the time. The way they smelled. The specific weight of them sleeping on your chest. The first time they laughed at something you did on purpose.

That’s part of why I photograph what I photograph. Savoring the newborn stage isn’t something that comes naturally when you’re exhausted, it takes intention. And sometimes the best parenting advice is simply: slow down long enough to notice.

What Three Babies Taught Me About Letting Go of the Plan

Tips for new parents around flexibility tend to sound nice in theory and impossible in practice. So here’s the concrete version of what I’ve actually learned:

• Your birth story doesn’t have to be what you imagined to be meaningful. The photos I take in those first 48 hours are never the ones moms planned for. They’re always better.
• Your parenting style will shift. What worked for your first won’t always work for your second. That’s not inconsistency. That’s paying attention.
• The plan is a starting point, not a contract. By baby number three, I stopped white-knuckling the outcome and started just showing up. That shift alone made everything feel different. 

Something Meaghan Moakley at Azalea Acupuncture shared in our conversation has stayed with me. In Traditional Chinese Medicine, there’s a philosophy around the first 40 days postpartum. The idea that for that season, mom’s only job is to take care of baby, and everyone else’s job is to take care of mom. Body workers, doulas, prepped meals, honest conversations with your partner about what support actually looks like. What Meaghan said simply: when mom feels her best, the whole family system feels better.

That’s not an excuse to opt out. It’s permission to let go of the idea that getting through everything alone is the goal.

If you’re heading into a season of adding to your family, my post on preparing older siblings has some genuinely useful, practical tips for new parents navigating that transition.

 

To the Mom Reading This Before Her First Baby Arrives

You’re going to do great. Not because you’ve prepared enough or because you have the right stuff or because you’ve read the right things. You’re going to do great because you already care this much, and that doesn’t go away when things get hard.

The advice for moms I’d leave you with is simple: be as patient with yourself as you’re planning to be with your baby. You’re both learning. Neither of you has done this before.

Build your team before you need it. A postpartum doula. A chiropractor who understands pregnancy. A provider who actually listens when something feels off. You don’t have to figure any of this out alone, and the moms I’ve talked to who got support early all say the same thing: they wish they’d done it sooner.

And when you’re ready to capture this season, I’d love to be your photographer. My Fresh 48 sessions happen in the hospital or at home within the first 24 to 48 hours after birth. No posing, no pressure. Just your family in the middle of something you’ll want to remember.

Spots fill up before due dates, so if you’re expecting, reach out early.

And if you want to stay connected (real talk for Minnesota moms, local resources, and things I actually use) grab the free Minneapolis Mama’s Guide here and follow along on Instagram.