These things I've learned...

I turned another year older this week so couldn't help but sit back and think about how the last year went. Of course, the difference is, this time last year I was just barely beginning to come out of the deep dark fog of postnatal depression. I struggle to remember what I did last year for my birthday much less how I felt at the time.  The answer, most likely, is numb. That’s the odd part about all the days I have now where I’m sad and weepy or impatient and completely pissed off at the situation – that’s actually progress.  That numbness? That was the ppdemons winning. Emotions?  That’s me.  A sappy romantic whether I want to admit it or not. Lately I’ve had a few glimpses of my feisty old self and it’s nice to know she’s still in there and that she’s fighting her way back out again.  I’ve even had some good belly laughs with my little girl recently.  Ahhh, my humour. Now that is something I’ve missed.

My point is my daughter and I, well, we’ve come a long way baby.  In light of the old me coming out to join the new me and in celebration of the beginning of my new year, I’ve decided to compile a list of the things I’ve learned since my daughter was born. It’s by no means complete, but it’s a start. (Note: She’s 20 months, not a year, but bear with me, it’s all a bit of a blur)

I’ve learned that…

…. if you let a newborn sleep as long as they’d like in the day, their empty tummies and brand new lungs will make you pay for it at night.

…. meconium is one of the stickiest, hard to clean substances known to man. 

…. baby poo is actually relatively inoffensive until you start them on solids

…. one does actually get used to being vomited on regularly.  There were times I not only continued to wear a shirt that had been spit up on but that I put it on again the following day. (It was only milk after all…)

…. a baby really does have different cries for tiredness, hunger, fear, frustration, and wind.

…. you can never have too many muslins/burp cloths.

…. cloth diapers come in handy as towels, change mat covers, and burp cloths too.

…. stain remover for cloth diapers is an excellent way to get out stains, especially that crazy yellow newborn poo.

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I've learned that...

…. it is actually possible to take thousands of photos in just a few short months.

.... a baby can start teething long before one actually manages to cut through. 

…. having a spotless house isn’t always a first priority. In fact, it’s actually lowest on the list right now and the house is still generally tidy and organized.

…. there are few things better than having a baby that can soothe herself to sleep. 

…. a lot of good can come from baby books. I’m not sure how I would have managed without consulting “The Baby Whisperer” on a regular basis.

…. it’s handy to have a stroller and a baby carrier or sling of some sort.  They both have their advantages and disadvantages.

…. it is a lovely feeling to have a little one snuggled in close and dozing on me while I walk around town.

I've learned...

…. that despite my deepest love for my baby girl, it was still possible to feel nothing for her.

…. that no matter what I do, I cannot get back those days I lost when I was suffering from a most evil and heartless illness.

…. that I must learn to forgive myself for those darkest of days. That it wasn’t my fault.

…. That it is possible to smile, to laugh, to interact even when I am feeling nothing.

…. that my little girl is funny and happy despite that fact that her mother has been battling for all 20 months of her tiny little life.

I've learned that...

…. my little girl is so decidedly textbook that those “what to expect from your baby this week” blurbs are almost always right on.

….”Dada” will almost always be said before “mama.”

…. babies’ first rickety, jittery, teeter, tottery steps are at once hilarious and exciting.

I've learned that...

.... even when you know you need it, asking for help is one of the hardest things to do in the world.

…. even once you get the help you need, there is no quick fix, and certainly no easy options, when it comes to battling postnatal depression.

…. try as I might to be strong, this illness has had a profound effect on my husband, my family, and my close friends.

and

I've learned that...

.... my husband, my family, and my close friends are some of the most amazing and supportive people anyone could hope for.  I love you all. You have been my saviours. xx

This Working Mom's Guilt

Yesterday, after spending a little too long on everyone’s favourite social network followed by watching the news, I had an attack of mom guilt of monstrous proportions.  

How could I have possibly taken my baby from her protective little home when she was so young and thrust her in such an environment as a public nursery?!?!   

I went to bed feeling like a bad bad mom.

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There was a time, long long ago, when kids weren’t even on the radar (in fact I was certain I wouldn’t have any), when my career was my life.  I worked long hours, leaving my desk just in time to catch the last train home.  What little free time I had was often spent at lectures, filling in paperwork, studying for additional exams, and adding to my portfolio, all in the quest of success. 

As is often the case, my priorities changed and work became part of what I did but was no longer the only way to define me.  Despite those changes and as sad as I am to say it, I still do equate my self worth with my success in the working world.  This combined with a bit of number crunching meant that when we decided to start a family, I knew I would return to work. 

That said, when the time came to put little miss into nursery, I wasn’t ready.  I had just begun to come out of the numbness of postnatal depression and was desperate to get in some much needed bonding with my daughter, worried she’d connect with her key worker before she did with me.  This was made even harder by the fact that, because of the recent and all too familiar economic downturn, I had no job to return to.  I used the nursery time to job hunt but it did not lesson my guilt.  It was a bit easier once I had a job to go to but it still felt like I was abandoning her and completely failing in my primary duty as a mother.

My daughter, on the other hand, thrived from day one. Sure, she has brought home her share of fevers and stomach bugs, but she’s a real trooper when it comes to being sick, taking even that in her stride.  She often comes home covered in paint or shimmering with glitter, sometimes in her spare change of clothes, the ones she went in sopping wet from water or some other sort of messy play.  She’s made friends and has learned so many skills we could only hope to expose her to if she wasn’t in that environment. She has a learning journal that is bursting with info already.  I’ve watched my baby become a little girl and I know a lot of that is down to that place she goes to a few times a week.

Still, there are days when she clings to one of us at drop off or refuses to hug me good bye that my heart breaks and I wonder if perhaps I should find a way to be home with her.  There are other days when I feel under-appreciated at work and struggle to justify the valuable time I’m missing with my daughter for what is essentially a shadow of what I used to do.  These days are tough and leave me guilt ridden but most of the time the bouncy giggly child that I meet at pick-up reminds that she’s doing just fine.

This week we increased her days at nursery. She didn’t want to go yesterday and it seemed as the world was telling me I’d made a wrong choice.  I wondered where I’d gone wrong, how I could fix it, how much had I scarred her already.  Thankfully that feeling didn’t last.  In today’s light, I remember that we explored various options and we know this place is a good fit, for her and for us.

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This morning Little Miss couldn’t get into nursery and begin playing fast enough. Even with our new schedule, she still gets one whole day with Daddy and one whole day with me.  That’s a pretty good deal if you ask me. 

***PS. On the subject of Good Mom/Bad Mom, did you see this on Postpartum Progress last week? 

    

How to Be a Good Mother: Why Imperfection is the Only Way 

I've read it everytime I've had a week moment.