When I look back and think of how my journey through motherhood has been shaped I wish that the me I am now could’ve popped back to the me 28 months ago and reassured me that I was doing a great job.
When H was born, and I’m sure I speak for most new mums, I was a mass of nervous tension and feeling’s of great amazement at this tiny creature that had now become the centre of my very being. I think for the first five weeks of his life I sat in my reclining chair just holding him, too nervous to be away from him for even a second and too in awe of him to stop looking at his perfect face. I never wore make-up, housework and personal hygiene were done when McD was home to take over holding him and getting dressed was literally changing from my pyjamas to some very unflattering sweats. The only time I left the house was to shop for the things I couldn’t get online or to attend any baby clubs or appointments for H. I even spent the majority of my nights watching him sleep only grabbing a couple of hours in the morning when McD would wake up and take over. When he was so tiny and new I just felt that no matter what I was doing 90% of my mind had to be focused solely on him, even when I was trying to sleep.
The turning point for me was when he was old enough to go in his Jumparoo, which he loved. I was able to set him in it, put baby TV on and then I could rush around getting things done checking on him every couple of minutes. Most of the time I would position his Jumparoo in the vicinity of whatever it was that i needed to do, like in the bathroom right in front of the shower.
I worried about everything though; our decision to not breast feed, what clothes he was wearing, what food he was eating, our decision to co-sleep, letting him watch TV, laying him on our carpet, letting him have a dummy, putting him in a Jumparoo, what nappies he wore, choosing not to teach baby sign-language… I still worry about some things now, mainly what H is eating and how we choose to discipline him. I worry about my decision to go back to college full time in a few weeks leaving H with my mum for three and a half days a week, but now I know that whatever I decide he is going to turn out just fine.
I wish I could go back and tell my 24 year old self that H will turn out wonderfully, that as each new day comes yes, there will be different things to worry about but there will also be different things to be amazed at. I’d like to tell me that I do not need to worry about H not talking as well as other children his age and that by the time he is 28 months old he will never shut up and I’ll have to watch what I say around him. I’d like to tell me that his eating habits change everyday and to not worry that he refuses vegetables one day but he will eat them the next.
Most of all I would like to tell me that no matter what I’m faced with that feeling never goes away. That now, 28 months on, I still sit and hold him while he sleeps, I still stare into his perfect face and I am still so amazed that we managed to create something as wonderful as our H-bomb, a little boy who says thank you when you pass him something, has absolutely wicked tantrums when he cant get his own way, loves dinosaurs and the avengers and says “daddy look” in his sleep as if he’s dreaming of showing McD his latest Lego creation.
I’d love to tell me “don’t worry mama, you’re doing a great job!”
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