Admitting defeat

Ruth Yeaman - 10 Mar 16

I thought I was doing fine. Not great, just fine.

I thought I was being the best mum I could be to my daughter.

Then the tears appeared with the feeling of complete panic every moment of the day. And with that the worry that you are in fact the worst Mother ever.
As an already anxious person I’ve found being a Mother a challenge. Initially I think I was ok, Wrapped up in it all in the beginning. I went out with her, breastfed her anywhere and went to the mother and baby groups. I did everything “they” say you should. As the months have passed I am increasingly not coping. Before my daughter my way of coping would be to run away and hide under the duvet! That’s not an option when you have a baby, they NEED you. Having to face up to your problems and shortcomings frequently every day is daunting. There is now a little person who won’t let you run away.

You are constantly questioned about your parenting decisions. Did you have a caesarean? Natural birth? Epidural? Does she sleep well? Eat well? Do you breastfeed? Bottle feed? The list is endless. And with each answer comes inevitable opinion and advice. Most of which is welcome because you feel SO lost that any help is greeted with your free arm! You are just glad to be out of the house and away from daytime television. I saw more Supermarket Sweep than I’d like to admit. Once Dales suits start to repeat its time to get out.

I fell in to a routine and because she slept so well you would obviously leave her to sleep. I ended up not going to groups anymore because it was the easier option. In the long run I think that was a mistake. I should have clung to any help and adult conversation. I realise this now, just how alone I feel. Now that I’ve returned to work after some initial stress and changing jobs I’m back to something better. I struggled to leave her the first week but now I’m glad for the peace! It’s just part time and works around our life perfectly. However I have never felt so unconfident and anxious. I used to run a shop every day and suddenly there I was back at work and crying in a warehouse because I couldn’t push a pallet. I have never been a fully confident person bit it scares me just how the little things make me crumble.

To say the words out loud “ I’m not coping” is a daunting admission for any mum. I have a husband who is an excellent dad. Parents who babysit at least a couple of times a week while I work and are of course amazing grandparents. I had a “good” pregnancy followed by a reasonably “good” labour at the end of which I had a beautiful baby daughter.

Alice is great, she is obviously my world. I know she is. I am blessed, I know that. There are people worse off than me, I know that. I should be grateful and I know that too. But there are days that no matter how lucky you tell yourself you are, you still feel lost, scared and alone. One day I’ll snap out of this, stand back and realise just how beautiful my daughter is, how stupid I’s being and how ungrateful this all sounds.

Depression is not an easy thing to put into words or admit to people. I needed to write this down to sort through all these thoughts. Nothing can prepare you for a child and how much they change your life, good and bad. You are definitely still you just a very different you. One who is always tired, is now always late for everything and worries when the hell are you going to get the time to finally hoover the car? Before or after the washing? The ironing? Cooking amazing new recipes for your weaning baby? ALL come after the day to day of looking after your baby. And at the end of it your still trying to keep up a certain level of hygiene. When are you ever going to have time to actually tweeze your eyebrows? And when you do can you be bothered? It’s too easy to lose yourself.

I’ve never been body confident and even less so now. Behind the layers my body is wrecked and I’ve come to accept that inevitability. I’m actually pretty happy with it to be honest, I made a human being so I feel the slight paunch is just one of those things now. I do however like to try and maintain some part of me even if that small thing is showering o you have clean hair. If everyone showed up honestly to mother and baby groups we would all still be in our jammies and last night’s make up that you fell asleep wearing.
I continue to feel bad when you see what other mums manage to do with their babies. I showered and kept her alive. That’s ok right? I haven’t painted with her, plaster casted her feet or taken milestone photos. Instead I’ve been shit on and spewed on in one day while she screams at me to be breastfed again and again half an hour later. And somehow I miss the breastfeeding, I miss the bonding. That’s the weird thing about being a parent and it’s cheesy but when your baby smiles at you, holds your hand or cuddles in you do forget and you just love.

My daughter is changing and growing every day. I know I’m daft for even saying all this but I had to admit it to someone before I lost myself.

Ruth Yeaman

Mother to Alice 26.03.15. Wife to Alan 25.10.13 Human being 15.09.87

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