The name change is the easy bit. Last year I became Mrs Jones in the conventional way by marriage. I won't dwell on that however and instead discuss that in another article.
The new persona is my focus today. In July Mrs Jones gained a new name of mum. That's right... We bumped uglies and made a third head for our household. Winston was welcomed into the world 28.07.2029 and I couldn't be more in love. Cue photo
The love for this little monster wasnt the surprise. The surprise was how having him would change me. I always thought I'd never let anything change me as a person, not marriage nor children. I am however here to confirm that willingly or not having children does change you.
Firstly, before the child comes the pregnancy.
Pregnancy is different for everyone. As a big girl I was worried my own gluttony would risk my unborn child. As soon as I knew I was pregnant I started to eat healthier. I didn't want anything I do to harm this little life. For me the first 6 months of pregnancy were uneventful. I had not a single symptom, not sickness, discomfort, dizziness, nothing. In fact I felt quite disappointed almost like I wasn't pregnant at all. At 6 months I found out I had gestational diabetes. Suddenly I felt so guilty. It felt like my gluttony had caught up with me and this was my punishment, and worse I felt for sure I'd loose baby as a result. I began on a strict diet but still my sugar levels wouldn't behave. I ended up on medication to stabilise my sugar levels which made me feel just as bad, as though I couldn't do anything right. Now paranoia is no stranger to me as I'm already quite an anxious paranoid person. The guilt, melancholy and self hatred however were very new and hard feelings to process. The next 2 and a bit months of pregnancy were therefore really hard. Those last week's of pregnancy felt like years and when my contractions started 2 weeks early (started the first day of my official maternity leave which I am very proud of) I was entirely relieved to know not only would it be over but also I'd get to meet little man finally.
This relief was short-lived. 27 hours of contractions later I naturally delivered Winston with no bodily trauma to either or us. When he was first handed to me I did not feel overwhelming love like they show on TV. I felt only relief. Relief the pregnancy was over, relief I'd never have another contraction and finally relief I could stop the diabetes blood tests and eat normally again. That overwhelming feeling of love for this new life didn't hit me for another few days and although I know that's fine, there's still that niggling feeling of guilt.
Guilt didn't stop there. In my little mans first few weeks he dropped 11% of his birth weight. Although a weight loss is normal 11% is outside the safe range and I had to begin supplimenting my breast feeds with formula. This felt like another failure on my part and again that guilt and self hatred was eating me up inside. Still it worked and the little Mr gained weight.
We decided to keep with both breastfeeding and formula feeding since it wasn't doing any harm. That was until it was. Suddenly at 6 weeks he started having severe constipation with the formula. His poor screams when he was trying to pass poop was another hard stab of guilt and failure. Could I do anything right for my little man?
So a new journey began of only breastfeeding at week 8... Following week we went for his first jabs only to be told his underweight. The way the gp spoke to me was almost like they were getting ready to take him away from me and rush him to hospital. I have never felt so bad in my life. Thankfully it really wasn't that big an issue. GP's really know very little about babies hence the panic but a pediatrician put his worries to rest. Still that feeling of being a failure lingers.
Yesterday bubs turned 13 weeks and it's taken this long to find out he is tongue tied. This is why he struggled to feed and therefore gain weight. All those feelings of guilt and self depreciation however dont just go away.
This new person isn't someone I recognize. I've never been a bully let alone a bully to myself. I don't feel low but I've found motherhood lonely. Covid certainly doesn't help but I've become shocked by how much I rely others for support. My husband although also going through this with me doesn't have those guilt feelings because I am the feeder and have felt I've failed that one task.
Please don't see this as a plea for pity or help. It isn't. What this is, is sharing. A problem shared is a problem halted they say. Well more a problem shared is informing others. These are all common issues new parents have but issues which not everyone talks about. You should talk about them and you shouldn't be ashamed. All your child wants from you is love and I'm happy to work for this little monsters smiles all day and night if I have to.
Today is a new day and certainly since finding out there is a fixable solution for little misters feeding issues my mood has greatly improved. Everyday my love for him grows even though everyday I feel like I couldn't love him more than I do today. I love everyday with him even the hard ones when he wakes every hour throughout the night or screams the house down all day and night. One look into that little face and I melt.
The new Laura has more love, patience and resilience than she ever did before. She's felt more in the last few months than she has ever felt in all her life. Good or bad she wouldn't trade this life for any other.
If you made it this far in the blog then thank you for reading and I hope you can take something from this to help should you need it.
