I have felt the need to compile this list for some time now, but I was afraid I was breaking some sort of ‘Mother’s oath of secrecy’. Why are we not told this stuff?? Why are we left white faced and breathless in our discovery? I believe it is my ethical duty to share a few of my, “You are shitting me” moments. I am also keenly aware, my friends, that this is just the tip of the iceberg…but I also know I am bound by time constraints, as some of you may be trying to gulp back that morning coffee….
- Regardless of how exhausted, torn or traumatised you are after labour, you now rightfully take second place and you have to suck it up. There is no ‘sick leave’ from motherhood. This premise will now basically continue…well…until they leave home perhaps. Picture breastfeeding your baby whilst vomiting sideways in a bucket with gastro….enough said.
- You will bleed. There; I said it. Just like the tampon ads, many shy away from this topic. I HAD NO IDEA JUST HOW MUCH AND FOR HOW LONG. When the hospital list says to pack maternity pads, pack a shit load (unless you are just one of the lucky ones). The minute I stood upright in my first shower, I thought I would need to hit the panic button. And it continued. Buy a bulk pack of black, loose nanna knickers (High waisted knickers for those having a c-section). I can tell you…that daily toilet to shower shuffle is tough with stitches and seems a million miles long.
- The very first poo is terrifying. For the next few days after labour, prune juice became my new drink of choice. I was certain if I pushed, my insides would pour out. I worried about it, a lot; the more I worried the more anxious I became. But I can share with you (perhaps
an overshare), it eventually happened and I lived to tell the tale. - If you are breastfeeding, the time between feeds goes from the FINISH of the first, till the start of the next. Duped; especially if your little one likes to take its time. It went like this…finish feeding, burp frantically, scoff own food down, set up tummy time, slam washing on, origami wrap baby and put down (please sleep, please sleep…), consider sorting clean washing pile, (reconsider), put ingredients for dinner out on the bench, pat the stirring baby (please sleep longer, please sleep longer)…and…feed again…sneak SOS text to Husband asking him to pick up dinner again on the way home. Sit back, start feeding….and look around at the dishes, dust and washing you just didn’t get to today….sleep when the baby sleeps…yeah right..ha ha ha!!!
- But after the shock had slightly faded and I found my feet again (kind of), I soon discovered all those soppy sentiments
and clichés, such as;…..
– No one will ever know the strength of a parents love
– A mother’s love moves mountains
– Children teach us the true meaning of unconditional
love
love
……Well….actually…I realised they are all so very incredibly, wonderfully true!
Share the love :
