Why the day you were born will never be my happiest

Melissa Hamblett - 12 Jun 16

You know what? It just didn’t go to plan.

I’d bought clothes for a girl, but had a boy. Dreamt of a calm hypnobirth, labouring in a pool and ended up being induced and having an emergency c-section. Was determined to breastfeed for at least 6 months, but ended up switching to formula after a week.

For someone who thrives on planning and organisation, the first few weeks of motherhood were the most deranged and manic I think I’ve ever known.

My son wouldn’t sleep, or settle – it turned out he was suffering from silent reflux. For 5 weeks I thought constant crying was just “what babies did.” (Turns out, they’re supposed to be happy sometimes. Who knew?!)

As a family, we thought we’d been hit by a tonne of bricks, which ironically only weighed 8lb14. But at 16 weeks and through the other side of the newborn tunnel, I’ve come to realise that actually, motherhood is just hurdle after hurdle.

It’s not about how well you leap over them or how fast you make it to the end of the track – but actually getting over each one, whether you jump, climb or simply push the damn hurdle over – you got through it and THAT’S the achievement.

Everything I planned may have gone wrong, but there is SO much I overlooked. For example, I couldn’t plan for the phenomenal amount of love I would develop for this tiny but loud human.

I couldn’t predict that I would happily go without, to ensure he has everything he needs. And I certainly couldn’t imagine how overjoyed I’d be to catch an unexpected baby poop in my hand after 3 days of constipation. (A highlight of Motherhood to date.)

So it may be true that none of it went to plan. It may be true that I’ll never be able to tell him his traumatic birth was the happiest day of my life. In fact,  it’s still something I struggle to talk about.

But I don’t think there are many other things this world could now throw at me that I would be unable to cope with and that new found strength I owe entirely to my son.

He has already taught me so much.

He has made me strong enough to be his Mum, and empowers me to keep jumping those hurdles. And for that, my poppet; I am eternally grateful.

Melissa Hamblett

Mum to Max, Wife, Journalist, DJ, Crazy Cat Lady, Mermaid Enthusiast and Make-Up Junkie. More of my ramblings here: https://maximummel.wordpress.com/

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