‘New Mum Loves Her Baby’ Shocker

Roanna - 26 Jan 16

Before I gave birth I told myself – and others – that I wouldn’t bore people with my baby. I wouldn’t be like all ‘those mums’ who gush on Facebook and have no conversation other than the contents of nappies. I would remain ‘myself’ – just with a lovely little baby in tow.

Throughout my pregnancy I made a conscious, constant effort to remain myself. In fact, I became a more exaggerated version of myself, so determined was I to not be like ‘those’ pregnant women. I kept my heels on and went out with my colleagues on Friday nights (even if my new lime and sodas weren’t quite the same). On Saturdays I shunned baby shops in favour of art galleries and lunches. I would brush off anyone who asked – ‘of course I’m excited, no I’ve not got a name yet, there’s plenty of time’. My friends remarked that, if anything, I was becoming less mumsy as I got more and more pregnant. I told them I just didn’t want to be defined by being pregnant, that I thought it was healthier for both my child and myself if I retained my own identity now, and once he was born.

In reality, I insisted on being that version of myself because I was terrified that if I publicly admitted how I felt then I would be vulnerable. I didn’t want anyone to think I had a weakness, even if it was the most socially-acceptable and universal feeling of all – love for my child. I didn’t want anyone to know that I was excited and terrified. I wanted them to stay back, and think that I had everything under control, and that it was none of their business anyway.

I’ve never regretted my natural introversion, but I suppose I have been ashamed of it at times. Living in a safe, cynical shell has helped me keep people where I want them. But now, as I sit here, I think I’m going to burst if I don’t say something. Burst with pride. With love, fear, and hope.

So here is something I wrote to save myself from bursting. I permitted myself to write it on the condition that I never showed anyone. And yet now I want to share it here.

I gave birth to my first baby six days ago. His name is Finley. He is beautiful perfection. Just a few days ago, I hadn’t seen his face or felt his skin or smelt his hair. I hadn’t felt this love. I am not perfect. But he is. And my love for him is. I’ve never felt anything so strong, so pure and uncontaminated. My brain can only comprehend a fraction of it.  

I’ve not left the house in 72 hours. I’ve barely left the sofa today. All I want to do is sit and look at him, and stroke his tiny pink fists as he sleeps. I listen to his little snuffles and breathing, his squeaks and whimpers. Each one is exciting to me. His face is the most beautiful face I have ever seen. His bowed top lip, his wrinkled forehead, his expressive eyes, his button nose, he is beautiful. To write that is difficult for me. I want to add something like, ‘…but I’m sure every mother says that about their baby’ or ‘it’s just my hormones’. My habit is to take it away from myself, and from him. But habit is different from instinct. And it is my instinct that has awoken in the last six days.

I am still myself. Even if I look slightly different to before, I still look like me. I still like the same music, the same food, the same people. But I feel more like my real self.

There is a Dr Seuss quote that says it better than I can –

‘You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.’

Old me would compulsively add – ‘which is fortunate really, because you also can’t sleep because he’s screaming!’ I’d be so eager to get that out, to make sure nobody thought I was ‘that’ mum. But in the early hours of this morning I sat watching him sleep peacefully. My eyes burned with tiredness but I didn’t want to leave him and sleep myself. All I wanted to do was soak him in. And I realised then, that I am a new version of myself, a more truthful version.

New me doesn’t want to add a word to that quote – new me thinks it perfectly describes how I feel, and how much I love my baby. Yes…I LOVE MY BABY! And I just don’t care who knows it, or what they think. That is the first gift this tiny little boy has given me. He’s already making me a better version of myself.

Roanna

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