Who let me have a child?

2 min read
01 Jun

OK truth time. I love being a mum, it's tiring, it's difficult and it's down right soul destroying hearing a high pitched scream for a bottle you haven't made at 4am. But who in their right mind put me in charge of a baby? So I get drunk and have sex with my fella, fun stuff, turn into a hormonal eater of happiness, push a baby out and all of a sudden I am responsible? The girl who stole a cardboard cut out of Michael Jackson and lost a kitchen knife for TWO weeks and found it..  in the oven! I mean I once climbed in a bin to find the keys to my flat, that were still IN my flat, I actually let myself in with my keys, and then ran downstairs and voluntarily jumped in an industrial bin outside to find the keys I had just let myself in with, while the security guards were watching me on camera may I add? (My boyfriend found them when we met 2 months later which is actually a running theme in our relationship he finds everything). So what, one minute I'm willingly in an industrial bin and the next I'm trusted with a 6lb infant, and no one taught me how to feed him or how often. I'm a very black and white type person, I'm great with direction as long as it is clearly given to me. The fact my baby has silent reflux AND a cows milk protein allergy doesn't help, or the fact that the dr will not see us personally due to COVID and even if he would I would probably not turn up for fear of catching the rona. See that's why I feel responsible enough, because I wont do anything that may make him catch an illness, however I still want to build his immune system. So I don't want him near anyone or anything but I also want him to develop immunity to things at a young age to hopefully give him a better chance. I'm giving him a milk challenge at the minute (drs advice) and he is majorly fussy, he slaps me, he claws me, he rags my hair, like bitch last person who did that was your dad and that was encouraged, THIS is not! It's like being bullied by a non verbal, drunk, midget. I worry morning, noon and night, I shout at furniture for being in the way, last week I had a stand off with an ant, not to mention the fact I sat and cried bargaining with God for a straight hour about a month ago because I found a suspicious mole on my babies stomach that later turned out to be a part of the umbilical cord come off. Yet I, I am responsible enough to have a baby, I'm molding a young mind, it only took me until last week to realise mama and dada would be quite an achievement by now, yet I've been sat trying to teach him colours for 2 and a half months. Anyone else not feel up to the job but still wouldn't trust anyone else to do it? Like I feel like a failure about 90% of the time, however when he feeds himself or tries sitting up or cooes and gabs away in baby talk I feel so proud, is that normal? I question my parenting and think I am a failure yet my baby is a genius. This is the weirdest thing. I find him to be the most amazing, wonderful, smart baby ever and myself to be the most incompetent mother on the face of the planet 🀷‍♀️ and I honestly think it's natures way of making us step up our game. 

I'm willing to accept the fact I'll feel like shit about my parenting decisions until my child is old enough to tell me otherwise, then I'll probably take some convincing because he has to say it same as when your dad tells you you're pretty because he has to because he made half of your appearance 🀷‍♀️. I define motherhood as a willing to enter into complete insanity on the off chance your child gifts you with a hug. But I wouldn't change it for the world. But how many times must I have to change a nappy? No one told me they somehow piss out more than they take in, and being shit on? Yep I've experienced that too. At this point it's so normal I find myself just getting on with life and if I smell something bad I assume it's me and in I go to the shower for the 8th time to wash of something that quite clearly isn't even there.  

I feel like no one prepared me at all for this. I ate my words didn't I, when I used to say to women "stop worrying, all babies are different you'll be fine" well maybe you wont, I mean you will on the outside but on the inside you're a burning mixture or anxiety and glee, it's surreal. Also did anyone tell you about the awake state of sleep you'll now enter into for all of eternity? I swear before having my baby I could sleep through anything, earthquakes, done it, nightclub music, easy, but you try sleeping through a baby fussing and making an 'eh' sound after they have just made a not so speedy exit from the one place you were brought up to consider was PRIVATE!

Forget that and all, your vagina will never, be private, again. I find myself planning the next time I'll be getting it on show so I can make sure it's at least slightly aesthetically pleasing, as pleasing as a baby canon can be. It's crazy it really is. I repeatedly told my fella and mum NOT to look down there during birth, but by the time the baby was coming out I lost count of people in the room due to one telling me to push while one told me to stop, meanwhile I was seeing the trainee gradually disappearing walking backwards into this blue curtain behind her with her hand over her mouth as if she was witnessing someone push a fucking hippo out of a bum hole! THIS IS CHILDBIRTH LOVE I DON'T QUITE THINK YOU'RE UP TO THE JOB! I refused to look at the placenta, no thanks. Not for me. 

I'm constantly now engulfed in this endless, love for my baby and I know it's never going to go away it really is insane. With every smile and every coo I just get soppier and soppier and trust me you will understand if you have one, you may love your partner, but I bet you'd never just accept them shitting on your hand. 

Of all the people in all the world I never thought I'd be a baby bore, but here I am, completely mum'd up and loving it. It's surreal it really is. So if you're scared or worried, don't be, because you'll know just how made for the mum life you are when you have your own teenie tiny, and you finally know that you may not be able to be trusted with your keys, but you've got this mum thing in the bag. 

πŸ’– Much Love πŸ’™

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