When I stepped into motherhood, I really thought it would be just us three; my husband, the baby, and I. Doing what we feel is best. Wow, was I in for a surprise. I didn’t realise that this journey came with baggage, and a barrage of unsolicited advice.

Our entire pregnancy had been difficult because the baby suffered from severe intrauterine growth restriction. That made the birthing experience slightly more complicated, with our brave daughter spending 10 days in the NICU.

My husband and I just wanted to be left alone. Soak it all in. Parenthood sadly does not come with a manual, yet you’re expected to transform overnight.

From your closest family members to friends, acquaintances, and even random strangers at the doctor’s clinic, everyone seemed to have an opinion. And they’re rarely shy about sharing it.

I was genuinely shocked that people thought it was perfectly acceptable to openly ask what kind of birth I had. Natural or C-sec? I mean, why would you even want to know? Then came the breastfeeding versus formula debate, each side armed with justifications, often pushed to the point of bullying.

Postpartum care? Everyone seemed to have their own version of what would have helped me recover better. Everyone, except me of course. I still remember someone who had come to visit us, opened our fridge, looked at a bottle of milk and remarked that if that was all I planned to drink, how was I expecting to recover. To be honest, I was too stunned to even process what they were trying to say.

And it continued.

Sleep training or co-sleeping. Someone always had something to say.
Thinking of giving your baby a pacifier? Brace yourself.
Skipping the pacifier? You’ll regret it when they won’t self-soothe.
Following a schedule? Too rigid. Not following? You better start.

Screen time? Oh, the audacity.
Discipline? Too harsh, too soft, too everything.

Three years hence, it continues. However, I have started to turn a blind eye and ear to the opinion overload.

Motherhood, it turns out, is one of the few roles in life where people feel entitled to weigh in without context, invitation, or sensitivity. And the pressure to do things “right” when there’s no universal right, can be exhausting.

Sometimes, all a new mother needs is less advice and more space. More trust that she’s figuring it out and will. That she knows her baby best. That she’s doing her best.

So the next time you feel tempted to offer advice, pause and ask, is it truly helpful, or just habitual?