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I Don’t Know What I’m Doing
‘Ok you’re good to go!’ said the doctor. We’d been sitting around for hours waiting for the forms to be filled in and final checks to be done but those words still came as a bit of a shock. Buckling the baby into his brand new car seat and exiting the ward felt a bit like smuggling pick n’ mix out of Woolworths up the
But despite feeling like total amateurs we were also incredibly excited to get home and start life as a proper little family of three. Do you remember your very first days at home with your newborn? I do.
I remember getting through the door and feeling a funny shift in the atmosphere, like everything had changed. I remember feeling so tired and so happy all at once. I remember snuggling on the
I remember looking like absolute shit but feeling like a celebrity.
I remember the ridiculously inflated
I remember the most beautiful little boy I had ever seen feeding until he was full and then sleeping curled up as a little ball on my chest. I remember thinking it didn’t seem that hard
Then something happened. The milk coma thing stopped working. The baby was only a couple of weeks old and he had already malfunctioned.
I fed him and he remained awake, and not only that – he was unhappy awake. He was crying and he wouldn’t stop. So I did what many a new mum does. I scoured the internet and devoured baby book after baby book looking for the answers.
The advice all sounded so
There was only one problem. He refused to get on board with the goddam book.
I was confused. All the babies in the books fed less regularly and slept much longer. Why did I get the duff version?
Not only could he not follow a simple schedule he was also colicky in the evening and I began to dread what a lot of people term ‘the witching hour’ but should more accurately be
Help I thought. Help me.
‘Enjoy the early days!’ people said, ‘It goes by so quickly!’
I remember thinking… I fucking hope it does!
‘It gets easier!’ people said, ‘You get smiles at 6 weeks, they stop crying as much, they start giving back.’
But I don’t remember it getting easier. I remember feeling like a failure, I remember a vicious cycle of expressing milk because I was too sore
I remember the reflux, the constant changes of puke covered sleepsuits and I remember desperately trying every type of bottle and colic remedy I could get my hands on. I remember feeling lonely,
I don’t know how I would have coped if I had of been on my own, I used to wake in the middle of the night and have panic attacks. My husband J was always there for me, taking over the
I was lucky, with some support and packets of pills I was feeling so much better a few months later.
It’s strange now when I look back on that time because despite all the stuff I remember, it also feels like I’m looking through a pane of steamed up glass, at another version of me. I question how I ever found it so difficult to look after one small immobile
But it wasn’t because this was the point in my life where everything shifted from it all being about me to it all being about somebody else. I couldn’t nip to the corner shop to buy a bag of pickled onion Monster Munch grabbing my keys and purse on my way out; I had to relearn how to live, putting another person first.
I’m not sure that anyone finds their first foray into parenting easy, even if you
So I can’t write this with much useful advice or explanations for expectant or new parents. Nothing, no one and no words can truly prepare you for parenthood. And even If they could, your experience would be different to mine, easier (hopefully), harder (I hope not) – who
However here are a few things I have learnt along the way: –
Reading baby books and incessant googling can help some people but for me they were the root cause of my problem. The second time around we worked out our own routine (which is kind of what you’ve got to do with a second baby anyway) and we were all so much happier.
This is me having a huge bonfire burning a big pile of baby books. In reality I just returned them to the library/gave them to charity shops (but that doesn’t sound quite so dramatic).
It can be
Despite failing miserably at breastfeeding my first son I went on to successfully feed my second. I can also tell you that I notice not one iota of difference between them and the only regret I have is wasting so much time beating myself up about it.
Some babies cry all the time because that’s just what some babies do. They all stop… eventually.
Despite what people tell you, you don’t need to embrace every minute. Some moments, say for
You will eventually work out a system that enables you to leave the house before midday (even if it does involve a lot of swearing).
But if you find yourself still sitting in your PJ’s at 6pm, surrounded by sicky muslins, half eaten bowls of cereal and cups of cold tea – don’t feel disheartened than you did ‘nothing’ all day. I’m betting your baby is clean, fed, warm and
If you are a new mum, if you know a new mum who could do with a bit of support, or even if no one ever told you 20 years ago when you needed to hear it then this is for you…
Just being there, and occasionally shutting yourself in the bedroom for a good scream is still doing a brilliant job. As is hiding in the bathroom and eating a secret Twix… Oh and counting down the minutes until it’s socially acceptable to reach for the wine is also cool (I hope).
I didn’t know what I was doing
You can buy Katie’s book an Amazon:Â
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Hurrah-Gin-perfectly-imperfect-parents/dp/1473639603