The Weight of ‘Specialness’ in Birth and Early Parenting

My bestie bought me this gin glass. I don’t usually drink gin and neither does she! But the glass is beautiful and so is our friendship. Of course, it seemed too ‘special’ to just use straightaway. So I put it on a shelf on display. There it sat, gathering dust (and the occasional found item – puzzle piece, single earring, lost button) for over 2 years. On her birthday last year, I wasn’t able to see my friend but we have been together on or around her birthday for many, many years so I felt very sad. What better way though to mark the occasion than by having a drink in the glass she bought for me? Along with her favourite apple doughnut of course! If not for that, this poor, immaculate vessel would never have been able to serve its true purpose.

There’s a quiet ritual many of us share: saving things for ‘a special occasion’. A candle. A dress. A bottle of something lovely. A notebook we’re afraid to spoil with imperfect words or boring task lists.

And the longer we save it, the more special the occasion needs to be. The more special the occasion needs to be, the less likely it is to ever arrive.

This dance with specialness shows up everywhere in life, but nowhere more poignantly than in the perinatal world.

Pregnancy is full of imagined moments. Parents-to-be often buy tiny outfits and tuck them away for the ‘right’ day. They save the softest blanket for the first night home. They keep the ‘special’ baby book untouched because they want the handwriting to be neat, the memories curated, the story perfect.

As doulas, we see this all the time. People preparing not just for a baby, but for a version of themselves they hope to grow into.

Sometimes they’re saving items. Sometimes they’re saving expectations. Sometimes they’re saving a fantasy of how birth or early parenthood ‘should’ feel.

And the longer they hold onto that fantasy, the more perfect the moment needs to be.

Birth is often framed as the most special day of someone’s life, and that framing can become heavy.  Parents may feel pressure to make it meaningful, serene, transcendent even. They save the playlist, the essential oils, the affirmations, the outfit for the baby’s first photo.

But birth is also raw, unpredictable, and deeply human. It rarely fits inside the box labelled ‘special’ that people have been saving for.

As doulas, we can gently remind families that specialness isn’t something you stage. It’s something that emerges – so often in the unplanned, unpolished moments.

A hand held tightly.  A whispered “you’re doing it”.  A moment of surrender.  A first cry that cracks the world open.

These are not curated. They’re lived.

New parents often save things for when life feels more calm. “I’ll use the nice muslins when I’m more on top of the washing.” “I’ll take photos when I look less tired.” “I’ll start the baby journal when I have time to write properly.” “I’ll wear that lovely nursing top when I feel more like myself.”

But early parenting is a season where waiting for the perfect moment means missing the real one.  The baby doesn’t care if the muslin is fancy.  They don’t care if the photo is messy.  They don’t care if the journal entry is scribbled at 3am.  Specialness is already happening in the chaos, the tenderness, the exhaustion, the tiny triumphs.

One of the quiet gifts of doula work is helping families see that specialness isn’t something they need to earn.  It’s not reserved for milestone days.  It’s not dependent on perfect conditions.  It doesn’t require saving or staging.

Specialness is created in the act of paying attention.  Lighting the candle on an ordinary Tuesday because pregnancy is hard and you deserve softness.  Using the beautiful blanket because today your baby is here and warm in your arms.  Writing in the baby book even if the handwriting is wobbly and the story is unfinished.  Opening the ‘special’ postpartum tea because you need nourishment now, not later.

These small acts are a rebellion against the idea that specialness is rare.

Maybe the real work - in birth, in parenting, in life - is letting go of the idea that specialness is something we wait for.

Maybe it’s something we choose.

Maybe today is already special enough.