Hello all, guest blogger Kelly today - I asked Beth if I could contribute to her blog as I love reading it and have also recently had a baby myself (but unlike Beth I don't have the IT skills or dedication to create and maintain my own regular blog!).
So about me; if anyone ever asked what I wanted most from life, my response would be to have children and be a mum. I've been really lucky that from a young age I've been able to get plenty of 'mum practice' in; I have a beautiful god-sister whose nappies I've been changing since I was 9, I became a carer and support worker for children with various disabilities over 12 years ago, I've been the original 'panto mother' for as long as i can remember - and of course I'm the only one on a night out who can get totally shitfaced yet be able to administer basic first aid and also remember to take out tape/gauze/tissues/etc to parent the rest of the group! In my professional life I'm a social worker so part and parcel of that role is to have a good understanding of child development and current best practice regarding parenting and caring for babies/children.
Despite all this, the first two weeks of my beautiful baby girl being alive were undoubtedly the best and worst and hardest two weeks of my freaking life!
Firstly - no one, absolutely no one, prepares you for just how hard breastfeeding is. It hurts, getting baby positioned is hard to work out, your milk doesn't always come in at the same time as baby needs it to, babies with jaundice or who have had a difficult birth will be sleepy and less likely to feed which puts you in a hideous vicious circle. The current stats in the UK are that breastfeeding after 6 weeks of birth is one of the lowest rates anywhere in the developed world and I can't say as I'm surprised! Through sheer bloody mindedness, fab support from my mum, husband and extended family, and a brilliant network of breastfeeding professionals through the 'baby cafe' are the only reason I am still breastfeeding my little one. I'm so proud, but it really put a negative spin on the first two weeks of her life where I was utterly petrified of killing her because she wasn't getting what she needed from me.
The hormones and the crying do get better, but for the first 10 days I was not recognisable as my usual self - every single conversation I had resulted in me in tears or hysterics. I have never felt so completely out of control of my own mind and feelings and it was not something I was ready for. Again my lovely mum was a huge support during this and the midwives ' were really 'on it' making sure those feelings didn't get past just the 'baby blues' into something more serious. Though I hope to never feel anything like this again, and it really did really put a dampener on what should have been the best time, it gave me a huge appreciation and much better understanding of the struggles that mums with PND and anxiety go through and continue to go through for much longer than I ever had to. These ladies are all superheroes in my eyes.
The last thing I was not expecting to feel was the anxiety of failing everyone else around me. For the majority of my life I have had people hold the expectation that I will be 'a good mum' - the fact that the first couple of weeks were so difficult really made me feel that I was not living up to what was expected of me and that actually I wasn't cut out to be a mum - maybe I'd made a mistake. I couldn't do the usual things that I thought I'd be able to, like cook a meal or keep ontop of the house; nor could I immediately settle my crying baby when she was upset, and there were occasions where I had to wake her dad up at 6AM so he could take over because I was exhausted and just needed to sleep without her with me. I expected that having a baby would change things, but that I'd be able to manage all those changes and not need any help because everyone thought I'd be a 'good mum' and part of that to me was being independent and doing everything myself.
My perception of this has now changed dramatically (though it's been a tough thing to accept); it really does take a village to raise a child, and not in the sense that you can't parent yourself, but in that the village is there to support you in doing the best job you can. I reached out for support; friends brought me food/snacks both at home and in hospital, I received virtual support from total strangers with regards to breastfeeding, and I spoke about just how shit I felt to people who were close to me. It all became clear that I am not the only one who's ever felt like this, nor will I be the last, and actually that's okay.
Happily, I feel like I've come through the other side of the toughest time. I have amazing friends and family supporting me, my little girl is healthy, loved and just a proper character already, and I know that actually I am the best mum she could possibly want. It's an honour to be in the position I am and I will forever be grateful for the experiences I've had that have brought me to this point.
My love to all mums (in all their many guises!) rocking this parenting malarkey xxx
This stuff in italics is me, Bethany. Kelly is my panto mother and I am very proud to have her as my first guest blogger. Woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo! (that's an in-joke between us)
There may be more guest posts later on, maybe with different authors. Who knows? Just message me if you fancy a go :)
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