As an adult‑ish human, I’ve had my fair share of “firsts”—school, work, friendships, heartbreaks, and more. Most of them were exciting, some terrifying, and all eventually faded into memory. But there’s one first that has never lost its shine: becoming a mom.
It wasn’t the best first in the traditional sense—it hurt like hell. But it was the one that opened the door to countless other firsts, like a gift that keeps on giving… and a headache you can never quite cure.
School and work had their predictable rhythms: scared at first, bullied or bullying, making friends, creating enemies, surviving, graduating, moving on. Parenting, though, was something else entirely. From the dramatic exit of my child from inside me (why does that sound grosser than it actually is?), I knew this ride would be unlike anything else.
The emotions were strange and overwhelming—physical, hormonal, emotional. Smiling and crying at the same time. Crying at 2 a.m. for no clear reason. It felt like my whole system was experiencing life for the first time.
And then came her firsts. Her first smile, her first laugh, her first steps. I was the one recording, squealing, wishing I could relive it all. Meanwhile, she looked at me like, “What’s the fuss about? It’s just a smile, woman.”
Years later, the firsts keep coming. Some are silly—her first question tag, her first complicated English word, her first time choosing a book over a screen. Others are bittersweet—her first lost toy, her first heartbreak, her first tooth falling out. Each one is a tiny moment of joy I wish I could bottle up, but instead I learn to savor them fully in the moment.
There are still many firsts ahead, and I intend to embrace them all. But nothing yet has compared to this parenting business. Yes, it’s exhausting, confusing, and sometimes I wonder what I got myself into. Yet it’s also the most rewarding journey I’ve ever been on. And I’m looking forward to every new “first” as she grows.
NdukuOutLoud 
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