Enjoy your baby. Enjoy yourself.

Heather, you'll be fine. Lesser women than you have done it so just go with it. When people give you advice just smile, nod and ignore them, develop a wierd appreciation for Barney, Teletubbies etc. (God, some of the stuff you watch isn't any better), realize that nature has programmed our genetic makeup to actually enjoy this (so we don't kill them) and get in touch with that. Good luck.

P.S. I may be a gut but I'm the one with the maternal instinct in my family and I raised my two. If that doesn't give you hope nothing will.

It's easier than you think. Dr. Spock was right -- trust your instincts. And the stuff you think you care about now, or should care about later, doesn't matter and you probably won't remember it anyway. (I was lucky -- movies got really shitty around the time I got pregnant, so I haven't missed too many movies that I really wanted to see.) It gets better and better (it's still good -- my kid's five) until it stops and they become sullen teenagers. And stay away from the perfect-seeming, anxious, or in-control parents. They don't have your kid. If you must get books, get the American Academy of Pediatrics medical books (they are a lifesaver in the middle of the night when you can't figure out what to google) and anything by T. Berry Brazelton. And try to avoid overly fussy preschools, playgrounds and ANY private school, if at all possible.

Seriously, every few months Salon runs a piece that makes attachment parenting out to be some horrendous fad whereby children control the household. The description is so at odds with what attachment parenting is really about--being in tune with your kids and being responsive to them.

I felt really unprepared to be a mother, and my own parents were dead, and my remaining family was very far away. I also had no experience with babies, being the youngest in my family. I didn't expect to enjoy the baby phase, but once I got the hang of breastfeeding, I was surprised by how much I did like it. Co-sleeping allowed me to get enough rest not to feel like a zombie. Wearing my baby in a sling or wrap or other carrier allowed me to continue doing things I liked doing. Babywearing, along with feeding my baby on cue, kept my baby pretty happy, all things considered.

Heather, I suggest that you read a little bit about attachment parenting or even go to a meeting of your local chapter of Attachment Parenting International. You're not going to find a bunch of parents there who center their entire lives around their children, but you will find parents who have good connections with their children.

I have taken my babies to numerous political rallies, fundraisers and other events (I was a precinct captain for John Kerry when my oldest was a babies). I have taken my babies to non-profit board meetings, to meetings of a fundraising committee for Planned Parenthood, to religious services I wanted to attend, and so on. Attachment parenting has helped me meet my kids' needs while also doing things I enjoy and not losing my connection to the outside world.

Someday I hope Salon will post an essay on parenting that doesn't contain a gratuitious swipe at attachment parenting.

Good grief. Have your friends not heard of the time-hallowed Mothers' Conspiracy of Silence?

Much denigrated by non-parents as being a malicious conspiracy (thereby hiding from parents-to-be the horrors of parenting) it is in fact a very rational conspiracy, based on the premise that while it is all too easy to get across the terrible aspects of the job, it is impossible to make a non-parent feel in his/ her heart exactly how wonderful it will be to enjoy the child.

This afternoon, I heard my 3-year-old & his mate discussing their nipples & possibilities of breasts with a view to breast-feeding 'Baby', my son's doll. 'Look,' says son's mate, reaching over to tweak son's nipples, 'You do too have breasts.'

'But I can't make milk!'

'Oh well. I have breasts.' Etc.

No, I don't expect anyone else to find that funny (far less those purse-lipped, self-righteous, acidic types who get off on writing spiteful letters to Salon), but it'll keep me smiling for a long time.

Funny article but, honestly, would you rather have people blowing sunshine up your a**? When I was pregnant with my first baby, NONE of my girlfriends had kids and my mother claimed to remember nothing about the baby years so I got pretty much all of my expectations from pregnancy books and "The Baby Story." Needless to say, I had a fairly rosy picture of how things were supposed to proceed. Reality was a very rude awakening. I distinctly remember my husband calling up his brother about 3 weeks after our blessed event and accusing his brother (who already had kids) of not giving us the whole scoop about this baby thing.

But we got the hang of sleep-deprivation, etc. and, darn it, if the little rugrat didn't turn out to be the light of our lives. Now we're expecting our second baby and very happy to be going in to it this time knowing that (1) sometimes it will be really, really hard, and (2) it will all be worth it.

Instead of helping your kid(s) "grow up to be neurotic, overachieving, ulcerous mutants that fit neatly into our society's soulless, workaholic culture" why don't you do what I did and get the hell out of America? I'm here in Granada, Nicaragua, running a cafe and bookstore, helping my husband run his nonprofit training the blind, and teaching my own kids that there's more to life than big-ass SUVs, fast food, buying more stuff, and listening to Dubya and the religious fanatics who elected him. Come on down, and don't worry about the breast feeding. Here women nurse and walk down the street at the same time.

Well, most moments anyway. . . it is hard to enjoy anything at 4 a.m. when you haven't slept in days. Or weeks. My little lamprey is almost six weeks old. It helps me get through the rough spots (poop explosions! bleeding nipples! round the clock feedings!) by remembering that she will never again be this small or fragile. It goes by so fast. Enjoy.