The first four weeks

Molly Whitehead-Jones - 14 Aug 15

Everyone says that the first four weeks with a new baby are hard going and largely thankless – and they’re not wrong. But it’s surprised me how quickly I’ve gotten used to the sleep deprivation, general chaos and, of course, the presence of a new little person in our lives.

Our first 10 or so days at home as a threesome were a total write off. I was feeling extremely delicate following my caesarean so barely made it out of my PJs, and we relied on the help of family and visiting midwifes to propel us through the day. As time’s gone by, though, we’ve started to get to grips with our ‘new normal’.

Yes, there have been dark and horrible moments: the evening I ended up on my knees, hanging onto the edge of the changing table, sobbing uncontrollably because I felt too drained to cope with yet another dirty nappy; the long, long night when Elliot just wouldn’t stop crying. There are also moments where manic hysteria sets in, like the time the baby somehow managed to pee on his own face during a change.

But there are mainly lots and lots of moments of total joy: cuddling up in bed as a family on a lazy Sunday morning; watching Elliot’s grandparents dote on him; the satisfaction of seeing him doze off as he reaches the end of his 3.30am feed.

It’s also brought me to a whole new level of appreciation for my husband, who very fortunately managed to snag a whole four weeks off and has been pitching in like a trooper with baby Elliot’s care. On Monday, he goes back to work and I’m of course currently terrified that the little bubble of relative serenity we’ve created together will burst when I’m left to fend totally for myself…

By working as a tag team, we manage to grab a few rare moments when things are like they used to be (eating our dinner in front of Eastenders, 10 minutes social media browsing, etc.). Even so, the simplest of pursuits like these require ridiculous levels of preparation and planning to make them happen, and slotting in a quick shower amongst all the nappy changes and feeds has become a logistical nightmare.

But I find I treasure everyday things much more. A five-minute soak in the bath is more soothing; our bed feels 20 times more comfortable. And my unexpected foray into formula feeding (which I’ve written about in a previous blog) has its up sides too – I once again get to experience the simple joy of drinking a beer while wearing an underwired bra.

Around day 18, my mum babysat while we spent a few hours away enjoying a long lunch at a local Italian. It felt decadent and bizarre and wonderful. We of course talked about Elliot the entire time, but being able to spend some time apart from him reminded me that I’m still ‘me’ under the layers of eye bags and dirty nappies.

I’m very much a ‘do-er’ and on occasion I’ve found myself getting to the end of the day feeling like I’ve achieved nothing because I’ve spent the entire time attending to the baby with nothing to show for it apart from the fact that he’s still alive. It’s moments like this when I have to remind myself to take a second to appreciate the enormity of what I’ve done, and what I’ll continue to do each day for a minimum of 18 more years.

Because motherhood is the most ordinary yet totally extraordinary thing, terrifying and fortifying in equal measure. And mine and Elliot’s adventure has only just begun.

Molly Whitehead-Jones

Molly Whitehead-Jones is a first-time mum living in Manchester and founder of Mamas Collective, a mums group that offers meetups, workshops & events for savvy, super-cool mamas who love their kids but won’t let motherhood hold them back.

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