Trying to predict how you are going to feel after your baby is born is like trying to glue a wave to the beach. When I got pregnant, I had no intention of being a stay-at-home mom.

As a chef, I worked until I couldn't reach the pots on the stove. After twelve hours in a hot kitchen, I itch to bake an orange cake when I get home. I said there was one way to have a baby, and that was with a babysitter.

Then there was Ferdinand. Once the baby was in my arms, I couldn't put him down. I would give him up for momentary lapses when people came to visit, but only momentary. The idea of leaving Ferdinand with a babysitter felt like checking him like luggage at the airport. Even though I was sleepless and starved for time on my own, I ached when I left him in the other room. I worked one day a week, calling my husband hourly to check if the baby was breathing, and otherwise stayed at home. By the second or third time around, mothers seem to relax and get on with their lives in a way that I would have considered close to abandonment a few months ago, but it is difficult to explain that kind of ease to a woman taking on being a mother for the first time.

A year later, I realize that if I don't figure out child care soon, my husband will become just another body in the bed and I will run the risk of starring in my own "Mommy Dearest."

I couldn't ask for a better baby, however. He is a joy to be with, curious, happy, and playful. He laughs and he cries, he goes to bed at eleven, gets up at seven, and has not once slept through the night.

A day in my life is different than it was before. I wake when the baby wakes, nurse him, then brush my teeth and wash my face with the baby on my hip. I find toys for distraction while I get breakfast together. We eat slowly, like molasses, really, and about an hour later, with dishes piled in the sink, baby changed and sippy cup in hand, we head out the door. We take a walk to the coffee bar, the bakery, and the grocery, and then go back home to play. I pull the baby around in a train made out of a laundry basket, read a favorite book 15 times, listen to music, then put the baby down for a nap. And the cycle repeats itself.

I can see how this can sound like heaven, and it can be. Napping and playing and cooking and cleaning; you have images of yourself as the modern Mrs. Cleaver in groovy clothes. I would never trade my days with my son, but with no time away, babyland can get awfully heavy with fog.

If you are planning on being a stay-at-home mom, plan ahead. Start to talk to potential babysitters before the baby is born; it can take a while to find one whom you are happy with. You don't want to get desperate and feel like you have to leave your baby with Dial-a-Nanny.

If a babysitter is not an option because of finances or you just aren't comfortable with the idea, talk with your partner. It could be a long, long talk. You are suggesting something that men don't always grasp immediately. It is true that you gave birth to the baby, but the baby belongs to both of you, and although he may be working long hours for the family, he probably isn't working the 24-hour shift that you may be. Get him to commit to two or more hours every day to relieve you. If he can't do it one day, you get those hours in the bank. Even if you were once a high-powered executive, choosing to stay at home can somehow leave all responsibility of anything baby related in your "in" box, and nobody else's.

If family members or friends offer to watch the baby, take them up on it. You can bake for them in return, or do their taxes.

Sign up for things that are hard to cancel, like a class or a job that doesn't take more than a few hours a day.

No matter what, be prepared to work on leaving sometimes. It's brain candy. It's that long-awaited breath you take after swimming the length of the pool under water. You need it, and your baby needs it. You don't want anybody thinking how much you're looking like Joan Crawford.