Forgive me readers for I have sinned, it has been an entire year since my last Love Machine confession. I could give you a list of excuses (it would include about 700 loads of washing and 2000 nappy changes) but I think it’s best to get straight back into things by making a promise to post more regularly.
So, a brief recap – I survived my first year of parenthood. Those first six months after having Henry are now a blur of constant breastfeeding, sleepless nights, baby anxiety (I googled far too many of Henry’s ‘symptoms’), and endless emails and phone calls with other Mums. Oh, thank god for other Mums. I think they are the only ones who want to listen to your endless ramblings about routines, naps, settling, expressing, teething, and the wide (and strangely fascinating) variety of baby poo you can come across on any given day. Other Mothers understand the extent of your suffering when you relay battles stories of sleepless nights up with a baby; they will sound horrified and sympathetic when you speak of hourly breastfeeds during teething weeks. Mothers are incredible.
Looking back, I think that as much as Henry was born last year, I was reborn. Reborn into my new Mother shoes. Adjusting to the new world was challenging, and overwhelming, and amazing, but I know I wouldn’t change a thing.
One of my biggest hurdles last year was Post-Natal Depression – it’s ok, I’m ok, I’m glad it’s happened. Everything finally caught up with me once I started getting a good night’s sleep when Henry was around seven months old (desperation forced us to sleep train and I have never regretted it!). Once I was clocking some serious zzz’s, I realised the way I’d been feeling (teary, angry, heavy- hearted, resentful, anxious, full of self-doubt…), was not just exhaustion. Eventually I had to accept that I couldn’t lift myself out of how I was feeling on my own. It was hard to admit. I think at the time, admitting depression felt like saying I wasn’t joyful about my beautiful little boy. I loved him to bits, but it’s strange when you can see all the elements there that should be making you happy, but for some reason you just feel like you’re going through the motions each day.
I’ve thought a lot about what contributed to my PND and I think it was a culmination of things. I am genuinely surprised more Mums and Dads don’t fall prey to some kind of depression after having a baby. Anyway, Number One on my list is Exhaustion. Exhaustion from daily sleep deprivation and never getting the chance early on to rest and recover from the physical trauma of birth (which is absolutely HUGE by the way). Number Two - Identity Crisis. For me, work and my social life were what I had built myself around and being a stay-at-home Mum meant questioning who I was without all that. Number Three – HOUSEWORK. Seriously, how boring is housework? When you’re on your fourth load of dishes for the day and third load of washing, it’s mighty hard to not feel a little beaten down by the insurmountable, never-ending stream of housework that seems part of your daily life.
Other stuff on my list would be loss of income, loss of adult company, lack of physical freedom from breastfeeding, lack of free time, lack of alone time, lack of time with your partner… I can’t believe I used to be able to lie on the couch all day hung-over watching DVDs. ALL DAY.
I think that’s enough of the bum-out side of being a new parent. Things feel WAY easier now. So much easier. I know I’m a good parent. I don’t feel plagued with self-doubt. Henry is hilarious, he’s great company, I love him and adore him absolutely, and I would never want to live in this world without him in my life. On Henry’s 1st Birthday I felt so proud. Proud of us as parents for loving this little boy into the funny, determined, clever little creature that he now is.
Now I can see that I will look back on this time staying at home with him and treasure every minute of it, because he is growing up too fast. Way too fast, things seem to be moving in fast forward. He says words. He runs. He knows how to win me over, and how to tick me off.
These days, I’m grappling with things like going back to work, the looming fear of Child Care (and the good mother/bad mother guilt that goes with it), and now I feel my own dreams returning, I want to travel, I want to see friends, I want to write this blog, I want Henry to be proud of me when he grows up. Ok, I’m likely to start blubbing. If you’re a new Mum out there, hang in there, it WILL get easier. And stay tuned for more posts.
xxxx
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