The Mommy Journey

Step by step I grow as he grows

Part of the Parcel

When I hear people complaining about sleepless nights and stinky nappies I know they are just tired, somewhat fed up. I know that I have had a really easy ride up till now, I am sure for a while still. Still it’s relative, a hard night for me is still a hard night, I am not used to a screeching child who cannot be put down, it frightens me to the core when he does it.

When people start giving me “that look” when I tell them I solved the problem by putting him in the bed with us, or the tone of voice they take when they say “he’s a thumbsucker”, the self satisfied grunt they make when he wants to come to his mommy, those people I want to shove down the stairs. They assume I don’t know what all that means. Since he is my first child and so little they must think I don’t realise that I am in for at least 6 years of sharing my bed (if not longer), that I need to start saving now for an orthodontist for braces and that maybe that first day at pre-school will be difficult for the both of us (mostly me).

What they don’t realise is that I went into this with my eyes wide open. I was prepared for endless sleepless nights, for colic, for reflux. I knew that the minute I started feeding him solids his poos would go from manageable to totally gross. Even as far back as running scenarios in my head of what would happen if I didn’t get the natural birth I so wanted, which went a long way in helping me not freak out completely.

It’s a little like being a professional athlete. Those who prepare, study the course, visualise and pace will always have an easier time than those who do not. So if you PLAN on having a child know that Saturday Mornings will soon be filled with cartoons instead of canoodling and sexy showers will, for a while, be splish splash fun. Sleep will be a luxury and must be well timed to get the most out of it. Nappies stink, more so if you use formula and, I believe, the formula + meat combination could be used to clear a mob scene, deal with it because honey, this IS what you signed up for. Your heart will break a million times because your tiny human is sick and you can do nothing to help.

Your little parcel of joy and gurgles is a living, breathing, growing adventure. Like all adventures you will have the beautiful days with gorgeous sunsets and the nights where it rains so hard your tent can no longer hold of the water. Take a deep breath, huddle close and weather the storm, tomorrow will bring more sunshine too.


Don’t Freak Out, Don’t Freak Out, Don’t Freak Out

On Wednesday when I first conceived this post I was trying not to freak out about a couple of things.

Firstly, I had just been told that the Sister at the clinic was concerned about Bug’s weight gain (very little) and that I needed to feed him more fats and come back in a month for a consultation. No mother really wants to hear this and I started thinking maybe I was starving my child or being a bad mom where my husband just kept repeating “don’t worry, you are a good mom, he is an active, healthy, awake baby who is developing rapidly”. Still, in my head I was repeating “don’t freak out, don’t freak out, don’t freak out”

Secondly, Bug is already over 9 months old and I still had no had a period, at 6 months I read something that mentioned that breast feeding moms could take up to 8 months to get their monthlies again and so I waited. 8 months came and went, as did 9 months and I was ready to go to the pharmacy and get a pregnancy test.

Then Thursday arrived and with it…my period. Great! Now I could write a post about how I was freaking out about the period but now I am left to just (trying not to) freak out about Bug’s weight. I thought I would cook my dad’s birthday dinner quick, write my post while everything was cooling before I could stuff the pastry and then the electricity tripped. So we went to bed.

Thursday night was full of cramps and on Friday morning I woke up in a pool of my own blood. Bug’s weight issues pushed aside I repeatedly told myself not to freak out as I assessed myself and analysed the situation. I felt fine (other than the cramping that was normal for this sort of thing). No nausea, no dizziness,  nothing unusual. So I had a (cold) shower and cleaned everything up.

By Friday afternoon, I figured out that I had to change my tampon every hour and a half and I needed to put a pad in too. I was also trying not freak out and at the same time googling “what does a early miscarriage feel like?”. All the while cooking supper for 15 people. In the shower (nice hot shower at my parents’ house) that evening I came to 2 conclusions. 1. I would see what the flow was like the next day and if it was still so strong I would call my doctor. 2. If this was a miscarriage the only thing I was feeling was relief. I know it sounds harsh but seeing as I don’t want another child right now and I hadn’t been trying desperately for one I had no emotional connection to, what would have been, a couple of tiny cells.

Saturday, the flow lightened and the cramps stopped and it was a lovely day.

Sunday, much the same .

So today I am only (trying not to) freaking out about Bug’s weight gain. Hopefully with all the extra food he will gain a little extra but I think he is fine. He is happy, active and learning so fast (crawling already and pulling himself up on stuff and also trying to stand without holding onto anything *sigh*).

….and BREATH