8 months of being a mum
Posted on 30 December, 2013
I have been a mum to Ewan for eight months now it’s hard to imagine back to when I was pregnant and a time before he was born.
People tell you a lot of things when your brandishing a bump.
In a way I felt ready, almost anxiously awaiting this love I was going to feel. For me, it was more gradual then the movies. It slowly crept up on me, every day discovering something new about him which now I could not live without.
One thing people didn’t really prepare me about was how vulnerable I’d feel.
At times I felt in the middle of an identity crisis. Who am I now? Am I any different? Am I incredibly boring? Who was I before? These thoughts would float in and out. Sometimes I would get upset by them and other times I would just let them be.
The worst of these days came in June this year. My parents came by to baby sit while Steve and I went to the park and lay on the grass to soak up some sun and take a needed rest. Lying looking at the sky through my sunglasses I felt overwhelmingly sad. Sad doesn’t really cover it. Tears streamed down my face and I was almost afraid to move. I tried not to make a show of myself in the park and I quietly said to Steve that we need to leave. When he asked what was wrong I had no idea what to say. I had been away from Ewan before but this didn’t feel about Ewan, it felt about me.
Eventually, I managed to say I felt like I was broken. Steve tried to understand what I was talking about but I couldn’t describe it. Even now I struggle. We walked back from the park in silence me with tears running down my face.The word fragile doesn’t seem to cover it because I physically felt broken, like a piece of glass that was stuck together with glue and all that was needed was a wayward elbow and I would break.
Once home I sobbed, wailed even, and Dad gave me a cuddle. Steve, Mum and Dad looked worriedly at me. When I said that there was nothing wrong I was just sad and continued to sob they seemed calmed. They reassured me that my body’s hormones needed to re-balance and that crying was a good thing to let it all out.
After the tears I had a cuddle with Ewan and as you can see from the photo below he was not disturbed by his teary mum and instead was eager to tell me what he had got up to with his grandparents (in googley talk of course).
At the time I thought, well nobody tells you this. They tell you the benefits of frozen cabbage for breastfeeding but they don’t tell you you are likely to have a melt down at a random moment and there may be many more of these before your body adjusts!
I was reminded of all the highs and lows when I met my cousin and his wife over Christmas. They are expecting in February and I mentioned being in labour for two days ( I was induced but Ewan wasn’t going anywhere until exactly his due date). It reminded me of how everyone seemed to tell me more and more birth stories that sounded like war tales the closer I got to my due date.
But none of this is meant to sound scary or off putting. It’s just how it was for a short period of time. Sometimes for a few hours in the day, sometimes for longer. But the tears helped me, a lot, and I got rid of whatever needed to go. I love being Ewan’s mum and I am enjoying figuring out who I am now. I think I’m essentially the same but giggle more and have a blog.
I hope I haven’t scared you off, pop back tomorrow for the most popular posts of 2013. (Cue gratuitous picture of an 8 day old Ewan looking cute and baby like).