Being sick with a baby.
I was tempted just to leave this as a two word post;
but I felt that was reallyyyy negative and scary for any new mothers out there reading this – they would potentially dive for the bubble wrap and lock themselves away for the winter months scared of a sniffle and I don’t want that on my conscience.
What I actually mean to say is, being sick with a baby is tough.
But there are also positives to come from it…
Two days ago I was inexplicably sick. The vomit came from a deep, dark place reminiscent of Sunday mornings spent hungover after a night doing tequila shots and thinking I could dance like Beyoncé.. Not a pretty sight then or now… (the dancing or the vomit!)
Anyway, as I was saying! I spent the evening running between toilet and bed and every time I returned to said bed in search of respite, I would wake – in my blurred and less agile state, a moody, teething 8 month old who had found his way into my bed as always and who would immediately demand boob.
So the next morning it again wasn’t a pretty sight (me or the baby)
Fergus had been deployed to the sofa to give me an easy gangway and so missed a lot of the nights commotion, but in the morning found two very broken and tired beings.
The words “I can’t do this” were uttered numerous times and I really did feel like life was unfair at that very moment in time..
Breastfeeding is draining at the best of times; add dehydration and nausea in there and it feels almost impossible, but what’s good to hold on to is this; it passes.
Joseph is nearly 8 months now and I’m starting to notice him growing and changing beyond belief and things like breastfeeding will inevitably be coming to a natural close soon; as will so many things that looking back to those first days, I never thought Id get through at all.
So many times I’ve felt like stopping breastfeeding or, giving up totally in my more desperate and tired of moments! but really, each part of a babies life is so fast and so changeable, that by the time you’ve reached your limit, your already onto the next thing, looking back with confidence at how well you managed it and thinking “that really wasn’t that bad”.
I think if each month lasted say, a year however, I’d be very very tired by now.. But 4 weeks goes by in a blink of an eye and that puts everything into perspective for me.
Yes it might be shit now, but tomorrow my baby will kiss me for the first time and none of it will matter.
Yes I’m being sick down myself now and haven’t slept all night, but tomorrow he will nap and so will I.
Plus it helps having someone to help –
always accept help in any form!
I won’t pretend I haven’t moaned about my boyfriend to my friends, in fact our group chat seems to be one big “who’s boyfriend is more of a dick today” chat that anything else (sorry boys) But I really do challenge anyone not to hate there other half even slightly at some points once you add a child into the mix…. Be it when your awake feeding at 3am and there snoring next to you, or there lying in bed 10 minutes longer than you while you deal with last nights nappy, or even if they ate the last crunch corner yoghurt, because let’s face it, hormones decide what makes you mad and sometimes it’s just that!
But to be fair, Fergus always steps up when he needs to and he really did while I was ill and it reminded me just how much we need each other to get through some of the less smooth parts of parenting.
I guess what this post is saying is; yes some times being a mum is being covered in shit and sick and still having to sing Rastamouse repeatedly, while de-crusting toast and at the same time, wiping up saliva trails that now seem to cover my house and yes you some times may hate everyone, but it all passes and when the time comes, that glorious moment in the day where the words are uttered, “would you like a cup of tea?” Or “shall I run you a bath?” Always, always accept the help – There are no prizes for doing everything by yourself – even though there bloody should be…