There’s a file full of instruction manuals stored in the bottom of Frankie’s dresser drawers. One for the sterilizer, the prep machine, and instructions for the bedside cot, etc. etc.

They’re there to refer back to if/when I need to. I know most, if not all, information will be on google but having them on hand seems to give me a sense of security.

I’ll be the first to admit that I never felt maternal and I think I shocked a lot of people when I announced our pregnancy – even myself. So when it came to being “ready” for her arrival, I felt nowhere near. After all, I confidently swore that I’d happily be the fun aunt for the rest of eternity and that was enough for me.

As our daughter’s due date crept closer, the fear of being a mother became even more real. How was I supposed to know what to do when I had never done this before and there was no instruction manual? I couldn’t refer back to that file in her drawer when she got sick for the first time or when it came to her sleeping patterns or how best to feed her, dress her, or the appropriate layers for all weather types.

But I surprised myself with just how comfortable I felt as Frankie’s mama – despite the lack of an instruction manual.

They say it’s instinct and we tell pregnant women over and over that “you’ll just understand” once they’re here and I’m here to tell you it’s not all bologna. (I was skeptical at best 😅)

You see, there’s no instruction manual on Frankie and I know that. No two babies are the same and that’s why every piece of advice from friends and family we took with a pinch of salt.

It took time to sort out her different cries, sleep and hunger cues and to understand how she runs warmer than others and what makes her smile and eventually giggle, too. But we did it, no instructions required.

Ben and I are navigating parenthood the best we can on instinct, with advice from our friends and family, knowledge from health professionals and far too many google results. (Throwback to 3 am google sessions during those early weeks)

The quicker I learned that the lack of an “instruction manual” was my best friend meant the quicker I relaxed into going with the flow. As the weeks went on, and the tears and fear subsided, I sat back to allow both of us to learn and grow at our own pace.

I’ve never been a mom before and certainly not Frankie’s mom. She’s never been a baby before either. The beauty of no instruction manual is that we’re learning and growing together and we can write our own as we go.