Disclaimer: I came very close to not publishing this post. It’s likely the most revealing thing I’ve ever written and I hesitated because it has never been something I wanted to admit to. But thinking about the upcoming RUOK Day campaign made me reconsider. If it helps one other new mum feel less alone, and give her hope that this will pass, then it’s worth risking my own pride over…
Father’s Day, 2008; 18 days after the birth of my son.
And it was time to acknowledge the reality that a world existed outside my front door.
I’d had no desire to leave the safety of home, or its nearby vicinity. The act of walking was still painful (hell, even the act of sitting was too!) and being a nervous driver I’d had no want to venture too far a-field. However with my Dad having made a surprise trip from Coffs Harbour to spend Father’s Day with my sister and I, it could no longer be avoided.
Reeling – mentally, emotionally, physically – from the aftershock of birth and the overwhelming knowledge that I was responsible for the most fragile, little person I’d ever known means I have trouble piecing together my memories of that first special Daddy’s Day. All that leapt out from the corners of my mind are the tormenting memories, doused in full technicolour that plagued my beyond exhausted mind.
I should have been excited, that our first major family outing (and Master H’s second ever car outing since we left the hospital) coincided with Father’s Day.
Instead the searing memory of that day remains my own mini emotional breakdown in the back seat of our little blue car.
Pulling into the car park of the golf club, The Husband raced in to sign up for a mid-week game. I was hunched in the back with my newborn, travelling beside him so that he didn’t feel alarmed in this unfamiliar setting. I remember looking out at the endless expanse of rolling greens that seemed to signal freedom from my thoughts, and suddenly I was overcome with an immense and desperate desire to open my car door and just run.
Run and run and run til I could think no more.
Run and run and run to a place I did not know, but somewhere that was bereft of the panic that seemed to choke me, and the fear that ate away at me. Anywhere that I could just exhale because I felt as though I’d been holding my breath from the minute my baby was born.
But no.
Arriving at my sister’s home I gratefully handed over the bundle of baby to an eager Poppy. As soon as I could excuse myself I went to lie on my sister’s bed. Wide eyed and watching the clock, I wondered how long I could get away with being absent from the festivities. I was bone tired, but too anxious to sleep. Exhausted not only because I had a restless baby who disliked breastfeeding and sleep, but also from trying to put on a brave face when all I wanted to do was cry.
*******
Fast forward (thankfully) three years on and we celebrated Father’s Day with not only a lucid, happy Mummy who is desperate to put a million miles between her and those raw reflections, but also a 3km hike to a picturesque local lookout. I was quiet most of the trek, reflecting back on those still sensitive memories, that, because of my “elephant-esque memory” are sometimes all too easy to conjure back into existence.
But the husband cajoled me, and he cheered for me when we finally reached our lofty destination.
And it dawned on me, that has also been the way in which we’ve lived the last three years as Mummy & Daddy to our beautiful boy. If I am locked in any sort of emotional or mental tussle, he will bolster both me and my flailing confidence, leading me through to the side where clarity and sanity prevails. He is the family cheerleader, morale booster and glue that keeps our little unit tight.
Similarly, just like the interminably long walk we took today, it too represents how far I’ve come since that day, 3 years before…
Happy fourth Father’s Day babe, thank you for carrying us on your shoulders and back into the light.
I’m so glad you posted this. Not only does it bring back vividly those first weeks after the births of both of my boys (with chilling familiarity), but it shows how we DO get better.
This is a wonderful, hopeful post. Well done on sharing it.
Yup, this takes me back to my early days as a new mummy. What intrigues me is that so many of us experience the huge range of emotions you mentioned, many of which are not positive and yet, we either keep them tucked away or friends and family insist that we only focus on the ‘nice’ emotions, so we do not feel safe to express our hidden fears and just pure overwhelm!!
I am completely honest with all my friends who are having babies…I share the bad stuff as freely as the good because I want them to be prepared and I want then to know that I am there for them just in case they need someone who understands….the good, the bad and the ugly.
I love your vulnerability.
I love the way your partner has led you from darkness to solid ground. Beautiful words. Thank you for writing them.
Oh how I relate. You poor thing! It’s amazing what hormones, sleep-deprivating, a recovering body, sore boobs, self-doubt and the rest does to new Mummies. I’m so glad you found your way out of their, and that your partner has been so supportive (that’s so important). Thanks for sharing. Happy Father’s Day to him – but also to you. Because it’s another ‘look har far we’ve come’ milestone.
Nappy Daze. Thank you so much for sharing your story. I too felt like you did, in every way. More so with my first than my second. The funny thing is, I am thinking back more and more of those days with fondness. Now that my kids are nearly 7 and 5, they have strong wills, minds of their own and are bone lazy, quick tempered and a lot of work. I feel like I had a better grip on life back then more than I do now. Things pile up now like they never did before. My son starts school next year and I feel like I might be free but at the same time I’ll miss him, my baby, terribly.
And no, I’m not feeling clucky for another baby! LOL
Great story telling!
Anne @ Domesblissity x
Ah hun, what a great post! I am fairly certain all new moms feel to some extent.
I bawled when my mom left . . . I was terrified to be alone and caring for this tiny person. What if I made a mistake? What if . . . what if . . . what if!!
Now look at you . . . a calm, cool and collected mom!
Jenn
Ah hun, what a great post! I am fairly certain all new moms feel to some extent.
I bawled when my mom left . . . I was terrified to be alone and caring for this tiny person. What if I made a mistake? What if . . . what if . . . what if!!
Now look at you . . . a calm, cool and collected mom!
Jenn
You are definitely not alone in feeling like that. Thank you for sharing it. You summed it up beautifully here “I’d never known such a vast and conflicting array of emotions were possible to experience all at once.” It gets better doesn’t it? But it’s so important that we share that it is hard and scary and raw as parents. Beautiful writing xxx
So wonderful that you can reflect on this time in your life and the way you felt and even more wonderful that you shared it with all of us. Thank you very much
Having a supportive partner is amazing, especially when they don’t “spook” when we’re having a dark day.
Those of us with such powerful memories have to be careful of triggers. It’s not easy.
Kudos for posting it. I’m sure you’ll find only love and support for doing so xxx
I remember this feeling like it was yesterday. My husband asked me what all the fuss was about and said “Our lives haven’t changed that much”. His mighten have but mine certainly had! Thank you so much for sharing.
It’s fantastic that your partner was able to support you through your dark times. You’ve certainly come a long way! Good for you 🙂