text: Pregnancy: Unhelpful comments make it feel like mine was a mistake | Metro News
  Helen SmithFriday 15 Jun 2018 7:30 am
  Should men be in the delivery room? And will it be a positive or negative experience?
  Yesterday, a total stranger told me to sleep while I can.
  A quick Google search of 'what to expect as a first-time mum' unearths reams of articles and threads on sleep deprivation, marital problems, post-natal depression, loss of identity and suicidal thoughts.
  I even came across a study that found that, in terms of happiness, parenthood ranks worse than divorce, unemployment and even the death of a partner. Fantastic.
  Don't get me wrong: I am under no illusion that being a first-time mum will be hard.
  I know I will be exhausted. I know my body might never be the same. I know babies are expensive. I know I won't be able to go out drinking until 2am on a Tuesday night.
  But guess what? I want to do it anyway. If I was a pregnant and penniless 18-year-old embarking on freshers' week, I would understand the concern.
  But as a 30-year-old, in a stable relationship and financially OK (ish), who was actively trying to get pregnant, I would argue that I am pretty well positioned for motherhood.
  So why am I being made to feel like I have made a terrible, irrevocable mistake?
  Why was I scared to tell my childless friends my news, fearing they wouldn't want anything to do with me once the baby arrives?
  And why can't we see past the negative side of pregnancy and motherhood?
  One explanation for the rise of fear-mongering is that it is a direct backlash to the picture-perfect mummy-blogging contingent.
  The ones that share heavily-edited Instagram snaps of themselves preparing a three-course meal in a candlelit kitchen, dressed in skinny jeans and heels as their newborn slumbers peacefully in a frilly basinet in the corner, accompanied with the hashtag #mumlife.
  That's enough to make any woman feel inadequate.
  Please just let me bask in my own obliviousness (Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)
  The popularity of 'honest parenting' Instagram accounts that share images of kids smearing their own s*** on the wall – such as Kids Are The Worst with more than 400,000 followers – shows that parents are ready for a more realistic take on parenting.
  Comedians Cat and Nat's #momtruths on the harsh reality of motherhood, such as Ways To Escape, Kids Are Like Stalkers and Why Moms Lose Their S*** receive millions of views on YouTube.
  When it comes to parenting, honesty is undoubtedly the best policy and it is only a good thing that more mothers – and fathers – than ever before are speaking out about postnatal depression and seeking help for an issue that was previously hidden under the baby blankets.
  In many ways, the internet has been a fantastic resource for those struggling with the challenges of parenthood.
  But the web is also arguably responsible for this wave of negativity that I have experienced.
  For every picture of a toddler with his head stuck in a toilet seat, there is a thread that puts pressure on women to breastfeed, return to work, get their pre-baby body back or have their baby sleeping through the night at two weeks old.
  For every funny YouTube video on The Truth About Childbirth, there are articles warning mothers that their decision to reproduce will make their husband cheat on them and cause their friends to abandon them in favour of more fun, child-free women.
  Pre-internet, pregnant women and new parents would use their initiative, and maybe call their mum every now and then for advice. But now, every thought, envy, worry and opinion is shared online and everyone is an expert.
  Strangers now think it is acceptable, if not their duty, to post a video of a toddler having a meltdown in the supermarket to highlight his or her parents shortcomings. The internet exposes parents to unprecedented levels of scrutiny.
  The decision to have a baby is personal. Even if all the advice I have received turns out to be accurate, please just smile and say 'congratulations', even if you think I'll never survive childbirth and I'll be a sobbing, sleep-deprived zombie in a dressing gown three weeks in.