I would not worry as much as I did about every little thing that got my baby howling.
I would encourage and allow more people who were adequately intuitive and fond of children to actively take part in helping me share all the small and big things little babies need done to them or for them nearly all the time.
I would robustly set up time for myself to do something other than feed, clothe, burp, change, clean, ease, please, soothe her.
I would take better care of myself so that even she would get an early sense that her mum needs time away from her to recover and replenish her energies and to remain in touch with the other things she is in addition to being a new, frazzled mum.
I would remain in touch with my worlds of work and friends far more than I did and not turn to them only for advice when I got the time to turn to them.
I would actively seek out other new mums in the vicinity, schedule pram walks with them and not turn my nose up at the differences between our parenting styles.
I would push myself and mum to get on a plane and fly to South India where our extended family resides, check in to a hotel room close by and pay them all plenty of visits.
I would stop feeling defensive and prickly and closed up about my being a single parent and stop reacting prematurely to what I imagine are their criticisms about my ‘situation’.
I would be more forceful with my spirited, strong-willed, loud voiced baby and not give in to all her whims, about everything, all the time.
I would, maybe, sometimes, let her cry a little bit, by herself, before rushing to pick, cuddle, pacify her mysterious sorrows in the night.
I would be perhaps, a wee bit less frightened of doing some unimaginable emotional injury to her when trying to coax her to not have her way around me about everything all the time.