Well, do you know what? I am tired. I’m exhausted. I’ve been tired for well over three months before I went in to labour and stayed awake for over 36 hours. Pregnancy made me tired. Not having more than 3 hours sleep at once for 3 months has made me tired. Constantly being alert to someone else’s needs has made me tired. Running a household has made me tired. Trying to be a good mum for my toddler and baby has made me tired.
I wouldn’t change it for the world (it’s funny how that goes without saying but we always feel the need to say it), but I do wish people would stop saying how tired I look. I know! I feel it. I’m fighting it every second. I also felt pretty fresh today after the baby only woke up twice. I thought for once I was doing okay with my concealer around my eye bags. But no, I still look tired.
One day, these moments will be behind me and constant tiredness with hopefully be a thing of the past and I hope my memories of now are all about snuggles, laughter and messy, funny games. Yet here I am at 4am, unable to sleep while the whole house is quiet.
When I was in the thick of the newborn stage, the last thing I wanted to do was waste precious sleep time writing a blog. I wanted to make sure that this tiny new life was okay, spend time with my, now enormous, toddler and get some ever so needed sleep whilst occasionally remembering to shove some food in my face. Looking back, it has FLOWN. I spent so long worrying about my c-section recovery, breastfeeding or transitioning to two children that I don’t quite know where the weeks went. I write this as I’m sat in the car with a sleeping 11 week old whilst the biggest has gone in to the shop with her dad.
One thing I’m certain of was that the newborn stage was full of doubt and uncertainty.
Should I just give up breastfeeding and bottle feed?
Is she intolerant to milk like her sister?
Why is she being so sick?
When will I be able to sleep longer than 1.5 hours?
Why isn’t breastfeeding coming naturally for me?
Do we give her a dummy? Will this mess up her feeding?
Can I do this?
At least the second time around, I was already prepared with a lot of my worries being used up on the eldest and I knew however this stage went, it wouldn’t last long and to saviour every moment; good and bad.
Although I was more prepared and mostly knew what to expect this time, the self doubt was still exceptionally strong. As it is apparent with all of the questions I had from earlier, although I knew some of the things to expect, I had no clue what applied to this particularly baby I had produced! This is where I knew I had to believe in myself. As with the first, when she would cry and cry, I knew to push for support and regularly took her to the GP. It wasn’t until one health visitor turned up at my house with a student training with her. I spent 2 hours rocking my inconsolable baby. I was fraught with worry. They would see I wasn’t coping, she doesn’t even settle for her mum, they’re going to see I’m a fraud and can’t handle being a mother. Instead, she came to me and asked for a hold of my sad little girl. Told me to go and take a few minutes to myself. I popped back out of the kitchen and she said, “my little boy was the exact same, have you thought of her having a milk allergy?”
Oh my gosh. The relief that I wasn’t failing as a mother, that she saw how hard this was and supported the fact that I knew there was something more going on with my baby! A new milk later, we’re in touch with a dietician and my girl was thriving. It was so hard to believe that there was something more upsetting my babe when everyone around just presumed I had a miserable baby and that was just the way she was. I will always be grateful for the support and understanding shown to me by that one HV and promised, from then, to always offer the same support and understanding to all new parents.
The Thursday slump
The Thursday slump hit me hard each week and I’m not sure if any other new parents experienced this. My husband had to go back to work pretty quickly although I remember being grateful that he got the whole 2 weeks off (2 weeks!! As if that’s ever enough for new parents!) What would happen, especially with my first whilst she was so upset to begin with, would be that after 4 consecutive nights of getting up with her and being unable to nap during the day, I would be an absolutely emotional wreck by Thursday! I was so scared this would happen with my second but for some reason we have nailed my sleep routine so I’m tucked up nice and early ready for a busy night when they occur.
Everything turns out just fine
Looking back on both my newborn stages now, I just remember a haze of snuggles, tears, fierce protectiveness and pride of these two tiny beings. It’s been and gone and I wouldn’t change a thing, even with a good mixture of uncertainty thrown in there. Any parents who come across this and are in the thick of it, it flies. Whatever emotions or struggles you currently have, they won’t be here for long. Try to schedule in some extra cuddles and moments where you just gaze into they beautiful eyes. I knew this second time round and I still feel like I didn’t do enough! And in answer to my questions…
No, don’t give up breastfeeding. You will absolutely LOVE it. The worst is over after 2 weeks. (I was lucky- I know it’s not like this for everyone.)
We’re still not certain about the dairy allergy. I am currently still off milk products which is surprisingly easy although took me a while to get my head around having a restricted diet as an adult.
Reflux, reflux, reflux. What a pain in the ass. Weight gain has been a pain here and we’re currently on gaviscon but hopefully she starts to get over it soon!
Sleep does get better. I’m in the sweet spot before the 4 month regression right now but currently she just wakes twice a night and the gaviscon is really helping her have a restful sleep.
My whole breastfeeding experience has been pretty by the book. It often hurts for the first two weeks. Stop doubting and just persevere if you can. If you can’t, don’t stress it. My first wasn’t breast fed and is healthy as well as being pretty darn cool!
Oh my little ones are growing. Again. I’m hit full in the face with the passing of time as you take the next step; the next stage. Constant worry: are you eating? Are you growing? Are you putting enough weight on? Then: oh you’ve grown, where’s my tiny baby gone?
Today was wardrobe update day. My girls’ wardrobe now holds 3-4 year old clothes. My brand-new, tiny (or so I thought) baby is now in 3-6 month old clothes. In the past, with my eldest, I’ve always found updating her clothes therapeutic and felt the excitement of what’s to come. With my youngest, I’m hit by the speed of time. She’s no longer a newborn. She’s so capable now. My clever baby who’s keen to sit up, laugh at her sister and get moving.
As I begin to sort her clothes, I’m bowled over with memory after memory of my big one in these clothes. The milestones she met while wearing them and firsts we all had as a family. Now I’m overwhelmed by the lasts we’re experiencing as a family and the whole things hits me deeper. If all goes to plan, I will never again have a newborn to snuggle or the experience of getting to know my own brand new human. I will never again have the first week haze of sheer exhaustion and adjustment.
Instead I have a host of new firsts to come as my girls grow into these new clothes. The first time my youngest crawls to her sister. The first time we wave our eldest off at the school gate. The first time they play together and don’t need mum quite as much. Their first whispers together about exciting games or, more likely, the mischief they’re planning. And although I shed a few tears today, I cannot wait for the many more firsts we get as a family of four.
Parenthood: what do you know? 