When it comes to labour every mom-to be is searching for a feeling of control. And the first place they look is to their caregiver options – Midwife? Family Doc or Obstetrician?

Through my three pregnancies I was in the care of: a midwife, high-risk perinatologist, family doctor and an O.B. And they were all great, because I learned that it isn’t the initials after the name that matters; it is the chemistry between you. You need a good working relationship with your caregiver so that you feel safe enough to ask them all the stupid questions that you want.

My first choice was a midwife but my first pregnancy turned high-risk and we leapt up the care ladder from a midwife to a high-risk doctor. I ended up with a cesarean at 37 weeks and a healthy newborn and my husband got to keep his wife and baby.

During my second pregnancy, I was adamant about being a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) and after much thought I decided that a combination of a family doctor and a doula was going to give me the best care and the greatest feeling of being in control.

Can I bring Yseline? asks my daughter as she drags her doll towards me.

” Umm…ok,” I answer.

“ And my wagon? “ As on cue,  a toy wagon full of bits and pieces rolls towards my foot.

“ Umm…no,”

“ But I neeeed it!” Cries erupt.

I am momentarily distracted by the boys now fighting over a hat. ”That’s my hat!” yells  Aaron as he tries to squish the too-small hat on to his melon-sized head.

“No, it’s mine now!” yells Sam as he tries to grab it. Aaron flicks him off with a desultory slap. My daughter’s cries are getting louder as I try and force her foot into her boot while trying to find the mitten that has fallen under the bench.

‘Auggh… the puppy stole the hat!” yell the boys in unison. I ignore them as I am now scrambling for my wallet and trying to find my phone.

It’s just an average day in chaos, trying to get the three kids out the door. Doesn’t matter what our destination is, exiting the house remains one of the most difficult tasks of the day.

6:00 a.m. the alarm goes off. Phil (Bill Murray) turns, sits up in bed and hears, “It’s Groundhog Day!” for the umpteenth time and then goes on to have the same day over and over and over again in the 1993 comedy classic Groundhog Day.

6:00 a.m. the baby cries, you turn over feed it, realize baby is soaked, get up to find some diapers, realize that the baby is now up for the day, and so are you, just like the day before. Welcome to your own personal version of the movie Groundhog Day.

I used to joke that my next book was going to be called “Sex After Baby” and it was going to be really easy to write because the first six chapters would be just blank pages.  Come to think of it, the next six chapters would be pretty light too. (If anyone would like to pay me for this book, please let me know.)

At the six-week check-up after having a baby one of the routine questions is: have you thought about birth control? My guess is that over 80 per cent of women answer – Huh? What do I need birth control for? I am never having sex again!

To be honest, the whole timeline is kind of hazy to me. I am pretty sure that my husband and I would disagree when we first started having sex again but I think we would both agree that it really took us almost a year to get back to normal (no, not saying how much is normal) and we went though varying periods of stress over it. (Well, he felt stress, I just felt harassed.)

The first year after a baby is born is incredibly difficult on a marriage. The sleep deprivation, the change in lifestyle, the never-ending demands (I mean the baby), the third body in the bed (again, the baby) and the change in focus from being a couple to a family.

Sleep is the currency of parenthood. I don’t know who said that first but it is true. From the first night when that baby is awake 24 hours in a row; sleep turns into a much-discussed, missed symbol of life before parenthood.

After three kids I wish I could tell you the magic formula that creates a sleeping baby. But I can’t because despite the books, the old wive’s tale and what your neighbours are telling you. There is no one formula. There are good suggestions but no one perfect answer.

Our first child was a terrible sleeper, our second was pretty good and we celebrated our success and entered our third period of parenthood with the smug knowledge that we had it all figured it out. We were wrong, our third is not a great sleeper either. But we didn’t care as much. By then we had gotten over that crazy primal need for a good night’s sleep.

If you want answers pick up a book, call the sleep doula. Because I don’t know how to make that transition easier. But here are the things that I do know:

A neigbour of mine hosted a playdate with a new five-year old friend and her son. The day got a little long and she let them watch a few minutes of TV for a break. When the kids’ mom came to pick her up, she quizzed the host about the details of the day. When my friend said that she let them watch a half hour of TV which included everyone's favourite underwear-wearing sponge. The mom panicked: “Ursula has only watched reruns of Sesame Street from my husband’s collection. She doesn’t realize there is anything else to watch.”

Oops. My neigbour told me the story with a guilty snicker. We, of course, laughed because we were having coffee while our little ones watched TV – how else would we get to talk to each other?

I watched my cousin prepare food for her 7-month old a while ago. It was a long, arduous process. She peeled sweet potatoes, cut them up in small pieces, steamed them in a special babyfood machine and then mashed them. Then she filled special ice cube trays with lids and froze them. It took at least an hour and half. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her to throw a sweet pototato on the BBQ and just scoop out the flesh but I held back.

The funny thing is that she can’t cook. She is obsessively making her own baby food but she never makes dinner for herself. And the latter fact will have a much bigger impact on her kid's health in the long term then whether or not she defrosted her baby food appropriately.

I was like that with child number one (except the can’t cook part). I prepared, I froze and I obsessively read when to introduce certain foods. But then with baby number 2, Dr. Jack Newman told me: “Food is food.” And it struck a chord.  With Sam, I was less formulaic and by the time Jenna came along I got it right. I made her food, but her food even as a little baby was usually also our food. We had carrots, she had carrots. We had tofu, she had tofu too, we had chicken and she had chicken.  Maybe hers was plain and ours was sautéed with sauce, but it was still the same food. I bought one of these nifty food squishers and I could turn our dinner into her dinner (except green beans, you need a uisinart for those little strings.) And I don’t need to tell you who my best eater is do I?

Our three kids must make us look like some kind of experts because prospective parents often ask our advice on the best baby gear. And then, they ignore that advice and go on to buy what they really want anyways.

Even when we bought our strollers/bedding and other gear, it felt like there was a plethora of choices. In those PB (pre-Bugaboo) days strollers were simpler, there was only one good baby carrier and the whole organics issue had not reared its green. In retrospect we had it easier, but we were still overwhelmed. And I vacillate between jealousy over all the options and laughing at all the extra gear and anxiety that new parents seem to acquire.

So in the end, what do we tell new parents?

I first met Chuck when I was walking down the street and we both stopped to wait for the light.  I was desperate for friends after recently moving to the Toronto from Seattle and a couple of minutes at a stop light was all I needed to make contact. Our babies looked about the same age and so I opened up with the soft-ball, “Your daughter is so cute. Is she about 6 months old?”

Bingo, she was only three weeks younger than Aaron and so we struck up a conversation. After a few minutes I made a move: “So, we just moved here from Seattle and I don’t know anyone with a baby the same age.  What programs do you recommend?”

And she responded with the words that changed my life, “My mother’s group meets on Mondays and Wednesdays, you can drop by if you like.”

What is the first treacherous obstacle of parenting? Choosing a baby name of course. Every couple has a strategy or at least someone who feels they made a compromise. And If you ever hit a lull in the schoolyard  conversation, a good topic to bring up? Baby names. Everyone loves to talk about why they named their children what they did and even better is commenting on the weird names chosen by celebrities as well as your neighbours.