Hey Google, am I parenting OK? A new mom catches her breath

Preparing for childbirth with a prenatal massage class. Number of massages received during labour: zero.

Every second, there are 40,000 searches made on Google. That's a lot of people trying to master how to fold fitted sheets and find out who Taylor Swift's latest single is about.

Or in my case, it's a lot of frantic searching about a strange looking No. 2I found in Audrey's diaper.

I became a mom last year. Fourteen months later and I'm still in complete awe of this incredible human being.

When I held Audrey for the first time, I thought my heart might stop. I didn't need to Google this feeling because I realized what it was: my heart was bursting with pure, unconditional love. I knew right away I would do absolutely anything for her.

Fortunately we live in a technological age. We're blessed with the internet to help answer any parenting questions, right?Not exactly.

My husband and Ifelt relatively qualified for parenthood. We'd taken the classes, set up the crib and hung the cute IKEA shelves. But we could never have prepared ourselves for the amount of worry that comes along with so much love.

When you would do anything for someone, you're also scared of doing the wrong thing.

Fortunately we live in a technological age. We're blessed with the internet to help answer any parenting questions, right?

Not exactly.

I quickly discovered that having instant access to a never-ending pit of information isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Information overload

A new baby. Pink-faced, squishy and absolutely perfect.

"Do you think her breathing sounds like Darth Vader?"

"Why does she get the hiccups every time she nurses?"

"What's that tiny red mark on her arm?"

"Can a baby poo too much?"

Let's Google it.

Nothing like a detailed analysis of your child's bowel movements to bring a new spark into your marriage.

Access to information is a good thing but as the amount of information available at the swipe of a fingertip grows, insecurities tend to grow, too.

In the weeks after Audrey's birth, I'm sure myself and my husband made hundreds of searches on our phones. Sometimes we found answers. Often, we found ourselves with more questions.

You know the drill: you hit on one potential explanation and then you find a completely conflicting one, and the next thing you know, you're 16 pages deep into a parenthood forum from 2012 trying to determine if what you found in your baby's diaper is a sign of a serious food intolerance or if it is simply poop.

As a new mom figuring out how to best care for a tiny human, I found spending too much time on the internet increased my anxiety levels and left me second-guessing my own instincts. The postpartum hormones are hard enough to navigate without adding the judgment of 'the internet' to the mix.

When the internet is too much

I realized my relationship with Google was becoming toxic; Google was the super-opinionated friend who I wished would silently nod and agree with me once in a while.

Google helped me write university papers, find the names of obscure actors, cook delicious meals, win arguments and even identify my labour symptoms.

Out of habit, I was turning to the search engine and asking questions I was more than capable of answering on my own.

Parenthood is not a science. There are no black and white answers on what's right because what is right is different for every family and every baby.

Hey Google am I Googling too much?

My mom put it best one day when I was worrying needlessly about something I read online. She told me, "Just look at your baby. Look at how happy and content she is. If there is something wrong, Audrey will let you know."

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She was right, of course. And my mom is something of an expert on the matter. My parents raised three children without the internet at their disposal. I may be biased, but I think we turned out more than ok without Google's interference.

Know when to put the phone down

I didn't want to waste any of my valuable family time with my eyes stuck to a tiny screen, so I started making a conscious effort to leave my phone out of reach.

When Audrey is asleep, the phones come out mostly so we can look at the photos of her.

I trust in my own abilities to respond to my child's needs. When I want an opinion or have a legitimate question, I ask someone from my real-life support systems instead of combing through thousands of search results.

Have I completely detoxed from my phone and Googling? Of course not. My sleep-deprived brain still needs the search engine for a boost most days.

But before I pick my phone up, I take a second to ask myself if the information I'm seeking is truly important. If the answer is no, I resist the impulse. Knowledge may be power but I've found that muddling along and figuring parenthood out the old fashioned way works just fine, too.

Without phones in hand, we can cherish special moments like this.

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