Welcome to motherhood. The land of vomit, poo, sleepless nights, anxiety, worry and paranoia, the land of all crazies and never empty laundry baskets.
Welcome to the land of tears, sweat, tantrums over the silliest of things, the land of magic and all possibilities. Because this is what motherhood is. The place where everything happens and you don’t need a reason for it.
Regardless if you are at your first, second or fifth child you still have moments when you feel lost, you still get into new situations that leave you speechless, you still rest your head on your palms and release a heavy sigh in defeat.
You have the power but somehow you are powerless in front of these mini humans. They rule your world and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it but accept and get on with it. They sneeze and panic takes over you: is she/he cold? Does she/he have a cold? Paracetamol or ibuprofen? Check temperature: room and baby. Bring the lavender out, Vicks to rub on their chest, get ready for a night full of cuddles, cries, stiff nose and a clingy baby.
Can you imagine what goes on through a mother’s head if the child has spots on their skin? If only from a sneeze we are able to go so far and plan an entire week of medicine, sleepless nights and cuddles, get ready for the Apocalypse and worse, trust me, spots on their skin go even further than that. Ruby ate something she didn't agree with. By the next day, she had little spots all over her bum cheeks and legs. Obviously, I started googling all skin rashes and diseases that can appear in a baby, panicked and calculated my absence percentage, thought about what sort of treatment to apply for chickenpox or rubella, thought about calling the nursery to let them know my child is sick and contagious. All these went through my mind in only a couple of minutes and my head was spinning. I got dizzy before my morning coffee and this is absolutely insane.
I called the GP and of course, they had no emergency appointments for the day cause it was a Monday and every Monday our surgery is filled with what we call “the Monday lot” – bored, hypochondriacs or very old people who got nothing better to do at home. Between 8:30 and 11:30 you have the walking clinic every Monday to Friday but to actually get an appointment on the day is a dream.
Welcome to motherhood, the land where Google becomes your first doctor and every minor rash gets you on the edge of insanity. I was completely sure Ruby had chicken pox or rubella. Nope. Went to the pharmacist and he told me she only has a reaction to something she ate. One Piriton dose later she was fine and I learned how to breathe again. But not for long.Two days later she woke up in the middle of the night crying. Such a desperate cry, I haven't heard from her since she was colicky.
I got her in my arms but somehow this time my cuddles were not enough. Again, a million scenarios went through my head. She was not wet so she didn’t need changing, she was not too hot or cold either. I warmed up some milk thinking she just had a bad dream. Nope. This did not do the trick. After what seemed like hours I put my finger in her mouth and realised her bottom teeth are coming out. Her gums were so swollen. Poor little munchkin. I gave her a dose of ibuprofen and she fell asleep in my arms sobbing. Feeling her calm again I was rocking in the chair slowly and fell asleep myself for a while. I didn't want to put her back in her bed. I was scared she would wake up again. I watched her sleep so comfortably that it reminded me of the times when she was tiny and melted my heart.
I was rocking in the chair reminiscing those crazy first weeks of motherhood, those magical weeks when I really had no idea what I was doing.
I was just guessing what my baby would need and closing my eyes for thirty minutes was just pure heaven. Ialso remembered those show-off, know it all mums who would brag about their little bundles of joy sleeping through the night and being so good. Shush.
There is no sleep through the night in a newborn. It's just your capacity of ignoring the little noises your munchkin makes, your capacity of leaving the baby in their bed and ignoring whatever they want to tell you.
There are no super-babies or super mums. There are just newborns and mums. Each coping however they know best.
Don’t think you are better than another or your child is way more advanced than your friend's child. They are all different. They develop at their own pace and you as a mother are doing whatever you think works for your little one.
What were your most insane moments?
Alina Barac, from Watford, UK, is a 30-something mama to a beautiful two-year-old girl. Ready for more kids, she lives on coffee and chocolate and is a true bookworm. She writes to keep sane, and you can read more from Alina at her blog, Baby Butterflies and Coffee.
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