I was 39 when I had my first child. By that time, I had watched most of my friends have their children, and became frequent baby-sitter/aunt/confidant for a lot of them. I was certain that parenting for me would be a breeze.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

My pregnancy was relatively easy, minus the constant fatigue, slight nausea, complete obsession with apples, and complete disgust with peanut butter. My labor (please don't hate) was a breeze. As in, I pushed for ten minutes, and out came this miraculous six lb., six oz. bundle of perfection.

But it was only a few days -- maybe even a few hours -- that the romanticized notion I had of motherhood completely disappeared, replaced by this nagging fear that I was doing everything wrong and my child would end up a complete derelict.

In short, my milk, despite my fervent desire to nurse exclusively for the first few months, refused to come in as more than a dribble. Reagan had horrible colic, which resulted in him screaming for hours, while I held him and cried right along with him. I felt like a complete failure. Worse, he only slept when held juuuuust right, and would wake up at the slightest movement, so, as a freelance writer with a steady job, I had to cram work in within a few short minutes here and there. And forget sleep. It was a good night if I slept for four hours.

Now that he's almost three, I can look back at those times and smile, and even laugh at a few of the memories. But nothing about it was funny then. If I could go back to talk to myself then, here's what I would say:

Give yourself grace when the nursing doesn't work out. You tried. You tried really really hard for five months. Those lactation consultants and nurses and expert opinions and magazine articles that insist nursing is best for you child, they don't see you sobbing in the recliner, hooked up to a pump for 45 minutes, just to get two ounces. Formula will be just fine. You aren't a failure. Let it go.

Give yourself grace when it seems everyone is telling you how to get your child to sleep, and he still wakes up every thirty minutes. Savor those times when you're so bleary-eyed, you almost forget to put the diaper back on him in the middle of the night, while he naps contentedly (for the moment) in your arms. Because, soon he's going to sleep 11 hours through the night, and you're going to -- believe it or not -- find that you miss that complete dependence on you. So kiss those sweet cheeks, and try to take a snapshot in your mind of how he looks, all swaddled up in your arms. Those moments, as exhausting as they are right now, are really very, very fleeting.

Give yourself grace when nothing you do seems to work, and he just cries and cries and cries and cries, until in desperation you put him down and walk away. You didn't respond in anger, you didn't physically hurt him, you didn't scream. You walked away. And that was the absolute best thing you could have done in the moment. So stop beating yourself up about not having enough patience, and go sit somewhere quiet for a moment, even if the only place you can't hear him screaming  is the back of your bedroom closet, and enjoy a few moments of respite. You, and he, will be better for it.

Give yourself grace when he watches three episodes of Barney or Thomas the Tank Engine back-to-back. Yes, I know far too many children are glued to the TV, and I know that you resolved not to use the TV as a baby-sitter, but when you only got a few hours of sleep, and already crammed a few hours of work in before your husband left for work, it's ok to just sit for a minute. He won't not get into Harvard because he watched 30 minutes of TV. Prop your feet up, and maybe even shut your eyes for a few minutes while he's nestled on your lap. You earned it.

Give yourself grace when the house isn't perfect, and you had canned soup and sandwiches for the second night this week. You know you can houseclean with the best of them, and your culinary skills won't vanish just because the most you did was open a can. Between the spit-up and the crying and the fussing and the tummy ache, the fact that you're still standing (or sitting) counts as more than enough for the day. Someday you'll whip up a big meal in a clean kitchen again. But not today, and that's ok.

Give yourself grace when you don't love every moment of being a parent. Because the truth is, it's really, really, really hard. It's ok to daydream about the pre-child days when you could go out on a Saturday night (and still fit in that snug-fitting black dress), or go to a coffee shop by yourself, or even leisurely grocery shop. Motherhood is a constant challenge, and the fact that you sometimes miss your child free days is completely normal. It doesn't mean you don't love your child. It means your human. And perhaps it's time to hire a sitter -- as expensive as that is -- just to get a few hours away. It's more than worth the financial cost, and you'll realize that, as much as you enjoy being out alone, you'll be even more eager to get home and kiss that sweet little face again.