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Stage 1
Altered States:
Pregnancy, Birth, and the Fourth Trimester
Stage 2
Finding Your Footing, Finding Yourself:
Months Four Through Twelve
Stage 3
Letting Go:
The Toddler Years, One and Two
Stage 4
Trying to Do It All:
The Preschool Years, Three to Six
Stage 5
Reading the Compass to God Knows Where:
Years Six to Ten
Stage 6
Living in the Gray Zone:
The Preteen Years, Ten to Thirteen
Stage 7
It Gets Easier – and Then They Leave:
The Teen Years, Thirteen to Eighteen















Adapted from my bimonthly column in Family Circle Magazine. If you have other questions, click here.













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From my book, THE 7 STAGES OF MOTHERHOOD

Unlike the first three months, which one mom described as a time of “total caregiving with no return,” the four-to-twelve-month period is often the “falling head over heels in love” phase. Looking at photos of Maddie when she was five, six, or eight months old (of which there are several trunkfuls), I’m reminded how her body had a kind of delicious ripeness, like a spanking new pillow, creamy and cool and soft. After her bath, I would put my terry-wrapped beauty on the bed and lie next to her for hours, admiring the formation of her ears or the perfection of her tiny wrinkled toes or the soft sound of her burbling voice.

We had made the transition from a stage when Maddie’s relentless neediness elicited a kind of primal pull to soothe, feed, and hold her to a phase choreographed around a much more reciprocal dance. Coming into her room in the morning, I experienced the helpless bliss of watching a frown of frustration melt into a gummy smile. At the sound of my voice, joy animated every fiber of her body; no matter how rough the previous night had been, no matter how wasted I felt when I dragged myself out of bed, her beaming face washed away the fatigue.

As my three-month maternity leave galloped to an end, I experienced moments of sheer panic. I had missed the daily challenges, mental stimulation, and rewards of my job, but the image of handing Maddie over to Ana, the Filipino woman we had hired to care for her, sucked the energy out of me.

Feeling torn between your baby and your job is one of the universals of this—and practically every other—phase of motherhood. In a recent poll of working mothers, Parents found that 99 percent of them said they felt “stressed some or most of the time.” Most of us assume this stress could be alleviated by improved child care or more flextime or a more involved spouse—and all those things would help. But we also need to accept the fact that ambivalence is a fact of life postbaby. And that sometimes the tension we feel between our working selves and our mothering selves can be energizing and creative.
>Read more      >Buy the book now





Question:  Whenever I hand my 10-month-old daughter to my husband, she starts screaming until my husband hands her back to me. This “Mommy’s girl” routine is wearing me out and causing a rift in our marriage.

Answer:  First of all, lose the label “Mommy’s Girl,” which only underscores the dynamic you’re trying valiantly to avoid: the inseparable duo -- Mom and Baby -- versus the pariah, Dad. Even though your daughter is only a baby, it really hurts to be rejected. Think how you’d feel and urge your husband to talk about it. Then encourage him to swallow his pride and try connecting with his daughter again.

The good news is that 10-month-olds thrive on routines and repetition. They also love to play and clown around – something most dads have majored in since childhood. Is there one beloved routine – perhaps bath time – that your husband might take over? A leisurely walk around the block or some special playtime in the evening can serve to strengthen their bond. Encourage your husband to get down on the floor with your daughter and just follow her lead. If this seems to work, leave them alone. Yes, your daughter may fuss at first, but if you’re not there to rescue her, I’m sure she’ll find her father’s loving attention a safe and happy haven.









Photos courtesy of Ross Whitaker         TM & © 2004 Ann Pleshette Murphy. All rights reserved.