By Stacey Lee, host of Afternoons on FIVEAA
Bringing our baby, Molly, home last year was both the happiest and most daunting day of our lives.
Any parent will tell you that when you have a newborn, the days become longer and smaller at the same time. Your sense of time disappears. It’s no longer measured in hours and minutes, but in feeds, nappy changes and naps.
Those early days are a blur, but they are also fleeting. I wanted to hold onto every moment with her. To take in that newborn scent, soak up the contact naps (including right now as I write this one-handed on my phone), and enjoy every new squeak and facial expression. Because we all know those moments pass quickly.
Molly is now eight months old, and time has softened the memory of just how overwhelming those early weeks were. But when I look back honestly, what carried us through was not just instinct, determination or love, although there was plenty of that. It was family, and the generous support network we are so lucky to have.
Becoming a parent has given me a new appreciation for the people in our lives who have done this before. Parents whose children are grown, grandparents who remember the fog of early parenthood, and family members who instinctively know when to step in and when to simply sit alongside you.
No book or piece of friendly advice can ever truly prepare you to care for a newborn. This little human relies on you completely. It is special and intimidating all at once. And you are caring for them while navigating sleep deprivation.
What got me through the toughest moments was coffee, and lots of it. That is partly a joke, but truly, it was the presence of another adult that made the difference. My husband, who never hesitated during a night wake or a nappy change. My mum, who remembered everything I didn’t. My sister, who didn’t mind folding laundry. My mother-in-law, who knew the dog needed to be walked. Friends who dropped off food without expecting a conversation.
There is something deeply reassuring about having someone nearby who has lived this chapter already. Someone who understands that the hard days pass, that babies change quickly, and that you do not need to have all the answers straight away.
I am acutely aware of how lucky we are. Not everyone has family nearby, or relatives able to help, and for that I am so grateful.
It has also shifted how I think about showing up for others. Listening without judgment, dropping off food, doing a load of laundry or unstacking the dishwasher are all things I truly appreciated, and will pay forward.
Those of you who are aunts, uncles, grandparents and friends, your role is more important than you may realise. Often, it is not the big gestures that matter most, but the quiet, consistent ones that help new parents find their feet.
Parenthood has also changed the way I see my own parents. I understand their worry a little more now, their quiet watchfulness, and the way they step in without making it about themselves. It is a perspective I could not fully grasp until I stood in this role myself.
The idea of the ‘village’ supporting and nurturing a baby has been around forever. But somewhere along the way, we began to idealise doing it alone, as if independence were a badge of honour.
For many families, that village is made up of people who are no longer in the thick of raising children themselves, and yet their time, presence and perspective remain vital.
I am all for independence. But I can tell you, I was not capable of being, nor did I want to be, independent in those early days of motherhood. Family and a support network provide practical help and, more importantly, perspective.
Family and support networks are not just helpful, they are foundational. And once the sleepless nights pass, what remains is the memory of who stood beside you at the beginning, so you could learn how to become a family yourself.
