So near yet so far: the invisible line of new motherhood
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Every new parent knows that feeling of sheer, overwhelming, I’ve-been-hit-by-a-sledgehammer, What-On-Earth??-ness that comes with your baby’s arrival. That feeling of I love you SO MUCH I could cry, coupled with I’m so tired I could cry. And probably will.
On top of that, everything is different. Nothing seems simple anymore.
I remember vividly how, after our first son was born, my husband prepared one of the many frozen batch meals I’d made, and tried to hand it to me as I sat feeding the baby. I reached out for the plate of food complete
SelfishMother.com
2
with a knife and fork; close, but no cigar.
‘Errrrrm,’ I said, ‘please could you cut this up for me? And just leave me the fork.’ So began this new way of life; eating many meals one-handed, or in a massive hurry as the baby started crying Every Single Time I tried to eat. The ‘I’m just going to have a really quick shower’ moments on repeat, the not being able to get dressed till 2pm, or sometimes at all, baths left to go lukewarm, cups of tea and water placed just out of reach. Tiny things I’d previously given no thought to at all
SelfishMother.com
3
were, all of a sudden, little challenges sent to make my eyes roll.
And guess what? It’s exactly the same the second time around, only it isn’t a surprise, more of an Oh yes, I remember! It’s bye-bye long relaxing baths for a while. Hello again to sick in my hair, piles and piles and piles of washing everywhere and attempting to nonchalantly breastfeed in public but getting a bit flustered about it instead.
It’s been four years, so of course I’d forgotten. But it occurred to me in week two that when it comes to having a newborn, it’s
SelfishMother.com
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like there’s an invisible line between what you can do and what everyone else can do, that you’re not quite able to cross . . .
LEAVING THE HOUSE ON TIME
Ha!
Ha ha ha ha!
Ha.
Good luck. You’ll need it, because it isn’t going to happen any time soon. It’s out of your control, even if you allow two hours to get ready. The quicker you realise this, the better you’ll feel. And prepare to add ’ish’ to every ETA you give from now on.
ON HOLIDAY
Going abroad with a 17-day-old baby isn’t that much of a common experience,
SelfishMother.com
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because going abroad with a 17-day-old baby is a ridiculous thing to contemplate. But if you are in fact booked to go on a lovely holiday that was planned pre-pregnancy, and celebrates a very special family occasion in beautiful Provence, you do all you can to make it happen. Once there, I knew I was going to have quite a different ‘holiday’ to everyone else. That stunning outdoor pool? Never made it in there. Nope. And not because I didn’t have enough help, quite the opposite. It was too much hassle. Just when I thought I had the energy to do it
SelfishMother.com
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and would contemplate finding my swimsuit (urgghhh), he’d start crying. Or the sun would go in. Or he’d be hungry. Again. Or it would seem like the hugest effort for someone so tired. I could see the pool, but couldn’t see myself in it. Just couldn’t cross that line.
THE SUPERMARKET
In week three, I braved the supermarket with both boys. Obviously, I forgot the sling. I parked near the trolleys, and then proceeded to sit there for a full five minutes looking from the trolleys to the supermarket and thinking (like the pool) there’s no way
SelfishMother.com
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I can get in there. Because I can’t possibly take the car seat out and attach it to one of those trolleys then put it back in the car. I know! I’ll just lay the baby in the trolley! No. Maybe I could hold the baby and push the trolley one-handed and my four-year-old could get the stuff and . . . no. Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow. But we’re here! And tomorrow I might feel even worse so . . . the PRAM! I’ll put the shopping in the pram. Next to the baby. He’s small and won’t care. Easy. Well, it was easy-ish. He just about avoided being an
SelfishMother.com
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unexpected item in the bagging area.
SLEEP
Oh, I see you, big, comfortable king-sized bed, with your squashy pillows and plush duvet, just waiting to be sprawled and stretched out and slept in. I also see this small new person, with his insanely cute hands and feet and fondness for going off like a two-hourly alarm clock through the night. Without fail. Not for me the bliss of a full night’s sleep, no, no, not for a looooonnnnng time. It’s there for the taking, but I Can’t. Quite.Reach.It.
But . . . this time last year, I cried so many
SelfishMother.com
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tears because There Was No Baby Yet. It felt like this day would never come. Luckily, it has; he is here and he is extraordinary to me. Seeing him and his big brother side by side is amazing. Together, they are everything I’ve ever wanted. I know from last time that this time can never be clawed back. There will be no more newborns for us, and so yes, I am trying to make the most of it all. To enjoy the good bits, because they are magic. To cope with the hard bits as best we can. To remember that tough times are so much tougher when you’re
SelfishMother.com
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tired.
The line will be crossed in a blur. Our eldest? He starts school in September. Oh NO don’t even get me started on that. So, crossing the line can wait. This time doesn’t need to be wished away. Though a bit more sleep will always be wished for.
Image credit: Pinterest
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SARAH TOPPING - 23 Jun 17
Every new parent knows that feeling of sheer, overwhelming, I’ve-been-hit-by-a-sledgehammer, What-On-Earth??-ness that comes with your baby’s arrival. That feeling of I love you SO MUCH I could cry, coupled with I’m so tired I could cry. And probably will.
On top of that, everything is different. Nothing seems simple anymore.
I remember vividly how, after our first son was born, my husband prepared one of the many frozen batch meals I’d made, and tried to hand it to me as I sat feeding the baby. I reached out for the plate of food complete with a knife and fork; close, but no cigar.
‘Errrrrm,’ I said, ‘please could you cut this up for me? And just leave me the fork.’ So began this new way of life; eating many meals one-handed, or in a massive hurry as the baby started crying Every Single Time I tried to eat. The ‘I’m just going to have a really quick shower’ moments on repeat, the not being able to get dressed till 2pm, or sometimes at all, baths left to go lukewarm, cups of tea and water placed just out of reach. Tiny things I’d previously given no thought to at all were, all of a sudden, little challenges sent to make my eyes roll.
And guess what? It’s exactly the same the second time around, only it isn’t a surprise, more of an Oh yes, I remember! It’s bye-bye long relaxing baths for a while. Hello again to sick in my hair, piles and piles and piles of washing everywhere and attempting to nonchalantly breastfeed in public but getting a bit flustered about it instead.
It’s been four years, so of course I’d forgotten. But it occurred to me in week two that when it comes to having a newborn, it’s like there’s an invisible line between what you can do and what everyone else can do, that you’re not quite able to cross . . .
LEAVING THE HOUSE ON TIME
Ha!
Ha ha ha ha!
Ha.
Good luck. You’ll need it, because it isn’t going to happen any time soon. It’s out of your control, even if you allow two hours to get ready. The quicker you realise this, the better you’ll feel. And prepare to add ‘ish’ to every ETA you give from now on.
ON HOLIDAY
Going abroad with a 17-day-old baby isn’t that much of a common experience, because going abroad with a 17-day-old baby is a ridiculous thing to contemplate. But if you are in fact booked to go on a lovely holiday that was planned pre-pregnancy, and celebrates a very special family occasion in beautiful Provence, you do all you can to make it happen. Once there, I knew I was going to have quite a different ‘holiday’ to everyone else. That stunning outdoor pool? Never made it in there. Nope. And not because I didn’t have enough help, quite the opposite. It was too much hassle. Just when I thought I had the energy to do it and would contemplate finding my swimsuit (urgghhh), he’d start crying. Or the sun would go in. Or he’d be hungry. Again. Or it would seem like the hugest effort for someone so tired. I could see the pool, but couldn’t see myself in it. Just couldn’t cross that line.
THE SUPERMARKET
In week three, I braved the supermarket with both boys. Obviously, I forgot the sling. I parked near the trolleys, and then proceeded to sit there for a full five minutes looking from the trolleys to the supermarket and thinking (like the pool) there’s no way I can get in there. Because I can’t possibly take the car seat out and attach it to one of those trolleys then put it back in the car. I know! I’ll just lay the baby in the trolley! No. Maybe I could hold the baby and push the trolley one-handed and my four-year-old could get the stuff and . . . no. Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow. But we’re here! And tomorrow I might feel even worse so . . . the PRAM! I’ll put the shopping in the pram. Next to the baby. He’s small and won’t care. Easy. Well, it was easy-ish. He just about avoided being an unexpected item in the bagging area.
SLEEP
Oh, I see you, big, comfortable king-sized bed, with your squashy pillows and plush duvet, just waiting to be sprawled and stretched out and slept in. I also see this small new person, with his insanely cute hands and feet and fondness for going off like a two-hourly alarm clock through the night. Without fail. Not for me the bliss of a full night’s sleep, no, no, not for a looooonnnnng time. It’s there for the taking, but I Can’t. Quite.Reach.It.
But . . . this time last year, I cried so many tears because There Was No Baby Yet. It felt like this day would never come. Luckily, it has; he is here and he is extraordinary to me. Seeing him and his big brother side by side is amazing. Together, they are everything I’ve ever wanted. I know from last time that this time can never be clawed back. There will be no more newborns for us, and so yes, I am trying to make the most of it all. To enjoy the good bits, because they are magic. To cope with the hard bits as best we can. To remember that tough times are so much tougher when you’re tired.
The line will be crossed in a blur. Our eldest? He starts school in September. Oh NO don’t even get me started on that. So, crossing the line can wait. This time doesn’t need to be wished away. Though a bit more sleep will always be wished for.
Image credit: Pinterest
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Sarah Topping is a freelance creative copywriter at Playing with Words and former copywriter at Penguin Children's. Her clients include Pottermore from J.K. Rowling, Enid Blyton Entertainment, BBC Worldwide, Puffin Books and World Book Day. Sarah lives in London with her husband Adam and their sons Zachary and Jonah, who rock (and rule) their world.
In between freelancing, she writes children’s stories and blogs about motherhood in all its guises, from the magic and joy to the potty training, tantrums and tripping over toys (pass the wine!).
@SarahTopping3