7 Things Parenthood Has Taught Me About Life

I cannot believe that this Friday we will be celebrating one year of being parents to our amazing, happy, adventurous little mite that we call Chloe.

This past year has seen me breakdown too many times to count. It has lost count of the tears that have fallen for my own mother, for the person I used to be, and for the person I am becoming. It has tested my marriage and my idea of marriage more than once. It has confused me, bewitched me and drastically changed my outlooks on life, friendship and relationships.

Here are the 7 things I learnt during my first year of being a parent. I am sure there will be many, many more in the years to come.

1.       Slow down

Never before have I been so tested in this area. Anyone who knew me before Chloe will attest to my impatient, head-on approach to life. Becoming a parent has taught me the beautiful and subtle art of taking things slow, of making space for time to flow smoothly and slowly. It has taught me to enjoy a quiet moment sitting on the floor just watching her, whilst feeling the importance and impermanence of the moment.

2.       Value peace

Over all else. No more chasing the next big moment, the next big adventure. I now choose the still, the quiet, the simple. When once I believed the chaos, the intrigue and the drama equaled a life that was full, interesting and worthwhile I now understand that they were merely distractions pulling me away from a life of meaning, a life of worth.

3.       Happiness is unfulfilling

I have come to realise how shallow the pursuit of happiness is. I have come to a new realisation that meaning and purpose are far more rewarding and teach me far more about myself than happiness ever could. Happiness is fleeting, dependent on outside circumstance; meaning has a depth and force that can sustain true fulfillment and joy.

4.       Being soft is a strength

I used to be a fighter, I used to be fierce. I still am. But I am also now a softy. I no longer see softness and vulnerability as a weakness within myself. That softness and vulnerability allows me a tenderness and love with my daughter that just cannot be borne from strength and independence (traits I once held in such high esteem).

5.       There is no time for bullshit

This is something I thought I understood before, but I understand it and practice it even better now (with more improvements to come). I no longer spend much time lamenting over things/people/events I cannot change. Being opinionated about something does not mean …well anything. I now focus on what I put in, asking myself questions such as, “Is this positive? Is it constructive? Does it add value to my life or the people I love?”

6.       Families have a soul

A family is more than the sum of its parts – it somehow takes on a life form of its own, breathing and changing and growing. The health of that soul depends on the relationships and dynamics between each of the individuals. That soul is greater than me, or my husband or my daughter. It will shape the future of us all and for generations to come. It is sacred and it is to be fought for with everything I have.

7.       Being grateful does not tempt fate

I used to be in a perpetual state of waiting, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for everything to fall apart around me. I often played down my success, my happiness for fear of tempting fate. Now I rejoice in my happiness. I am grateful multiple times a day and send a word of thank to the universe. I show appreciation because I know it will keep coming to me if I keep welcoming it with open arms.

I have found a peace through being a wife and a mother that I never imagined would be possible. I have found my place in this world; I have a sense of purpose that has spilled over to all other areas of my life. It is an overwhelming thing, a thing that makes me incredibly proud and grateful.

To my husband and to my daughter – thank you for choosing me. For choosing me to be in your lives, to be your friend, to be your confidante, to be your partner in this crazy beautiful world. 

Why parents are so exhausted. And its not because of lack of sleep.

Parenting is EXHAUSTING. The kind of exhausting that wears you down to your bones. Its a constant, mind numbing exhaustion that sleep cannot cure.

I remember when I was pregnant and parents would look at me with that LOOK. Anyone that is or has been pregnant knows that look. It's the one that is vaguely condescending and all-knowing. They would look and me and smirk, "Enjoy your sleep while you can." And I thought, what a dumb thing to say. I understand I am not going to get sleep for a while, duh...I'm having a baby. What they should have said is, "Enjoy feeling like a whole human, rested and peaceful as you will never feel like this again." That would have made a lot more sense.

We have been very fortunate that Chloe started sleeping through at 5 and a half months. A solid 11.5 hours a day she is asleep. I could not be more grateful. Granted we barely slept for the first 3 months and the next 2 months were not much better. So I know what it is to not sleep. (My husband is still scarred from the experience of seeing what that does to me.) But I wasn't quite prepared for the mental and emotional exhaustion that comes hand in hand with being a parent. And this I fear is never ending.

What, you ask, is so tiring about being a parent? Here is a tiny slice of my internal dialogue and activities needed as I prepare to leave the house.

~ Right let's go.
~ Where's the sunblock? Search through the baby bag, my bag, the bedroom. Locate the sunblock under the couch. Smear sunblock on squirming baby that believes sunblock is edible body butter. Don't eat that. Don't eat that. Seriously Chloe Bear, DO NOT EAT THAT.
~ Right, now where is that darn hat? I really need to get another hat. I hate looking for the ONE hat that fits her head. Search through the baby bag, search through my bag, search her room. Find the hat in the toy box in the lounge. Okay Bear let's put the hat on. Yes, I know you hate the hat but don't pull it off. Don't pull it off. Seriously Bear just keep the hat ON.
~ Nappies. Check. Wet wipes check.
~ Wait, let me take a blanket for shade in case the sun is too hot.
~ I better take a jersey in case it gets cold.
~ Let me take extra clothes in case she takes her sippy cup and shakes it all over the place because she loves the feeling of water falling on to her skin. 
~ Better pack a snack and lunch in case we are longer than expected. Open the freezer, try to crack out a few blocks of frozen home made food, that has been peeled, chopped, steamed and mashed. Cant get the blocks out. Take a knife and stab at the blocks. Throw the tray on the counter as hard as I can. Blocks fall on the floor. Sigh. Wash the blocks (whats a bit of dust?) Find a tupperware.
Where is the lid for this dam thing? Seriously, I hate tupperware - why are you always short a lid? Find a new tupperware, one that has a lid. 
~ Spoon, bib. Check.
~ Okay right, we are ready.
~ Wait, where is my phone? Search my bag, the baby bag, my room. Find the phone in the couch cushion.
~ Right, ready.
~ Grab the car seat. Put the baby in. One, two...three! Baby in. One arm in, Chloe give me your arm, give....good girl.
~ Okay, my bag, baby bag. Car seat with baby in. Ready.
~ Oh wait, sippy cup. Grab the cup, put fresh water in it. Where is the lid? Oh god dammit! Find the lid in the sink. Put the cup in the bag.
~ Okay, seriously now we are late. Let's go.
~ Put the car seat in the car. Keys in the ignition. Oh wait, I better get a snack for the car otherwise she is going to scream the whole way. Back in the house, grab a snack. Lock. Back in the car. 
~ Okay Bear, ADVENTURE TIME! 
~ Please don't scream at mommy. It's just a short ride. 
~ Here, have a fling.

And that is just to leave the house.

So the next time you ask us if we want to pop round for lunch and we arrive looking haggard and a little harassed and you just cant understand why we looking so tired since you know very well that Chloe is sleeping through... now you know.

Being a parent is exhausting. It is constant. Every waking moment you are thinking of your child, what they need, what they might need, and how everything will impact them.

But as exhausting as it is, it is the most joyful thing I have ever experienced. You have spent the day carrying, packing, fishing stones out of mouths, fishing leaves out of mouths, cleaning bums, cleaning floors, cleaning mouths, cleaning hands, picking up, putting down, singing, shushing, walking, bouncing and you finally put the little one to bed, make dinner, eat dinner, say hi to your husband, sit on the couch and you sigh a sigh of relief that the day is over. All you want to do is lie in bed and read your book. You are two pages in when you hear that fateful sound of a baby waking up and you know that the past 40 minutes was merely a power nap and she will be up for the next 4 hours. You sigh, you get up and get dressed. Put the lights back on. You walk into that room with a heavy heart but then she looks up at you and beams that huge wonderful all encompassing smile and it all washes away. Those tiny arms go up as she implores you to pick her up and cuddle her. She nuzzles her face to yours, holds you close and gives you a good old lick which is her equivalent of a kiss. She pulls back, looks you in the eye and smiles and you know you will do anything for her.

Becoming a parent is the most wonderful awful thing I have ever done. It fills me up in a way I never imagined. It has made my life so much bigger, made my heart so much bigger. And of course has made me more tired than I ever imagined.

The smile that lights up my life

Taking the Pressure Off

Its been a tumultuous two or three weeks, hence the silence on the blog. In fact, its been an all round  blackout. When times of mental strain are upon me I tend to crawl into my hole, reply sparsely to smses and avoid human contact where possible.

Its amazing what our minds can do to us. My mind was filled with lists of things we needed to get, of the things we just wouldn't be able to survive without, the list of bills we would need to cover on one salary, the pros and cons of either staying home or going back to work.

STOP!

My brain literally exploded. It came running out of my eyes, my mouth and my nose. My body shook, my heart hammered. I felt sick. There was just absolutely no way we could do this.

My husband held me close to him. I didn't understand how he was not feeling like this, not feeling the crushing weight of the responsibilities to come, the unknown. The fact that he didn't feel this way made me feel like I should stress and worry enough for two people. Gosh, I really got myself into a spiral that was entirely unhelpful and distracting me from all the good in our lives.

I am happy to say that moment of panic has passed. I have let go of a lot of what I thought we "needed". The truth is we don't NEED those things, all baba is going to need is a warm spot between mama and papa and the goodness that will eventually leak, spurt and dribble from my boobs. The rest...well it will come.

I went into Exclusive Books the other day to look for the Baby Sense book (which I just had to get, apparently). I opened it to a random page and saw a column saying something like "hold object 27cm from baby's face..." I immediately closed it and put it down. I don't need any more instruction manuals, lists of things to do and don't do. When did loving and taking care of your baby become so complicated?!


I just want to feel and stop thinking, feel the joy and excitement, and let the wonderment take me over when the baby comes, let my instincts and love be the forerunner of how I care for our baby, not a list or a book.

That being said I did get one book: How not to F*&% them up! It speaks about how embracing your own style of parenting is the best thing you can do for your child. Now this I find useful so I am reading it slowly and in between my own fun books that are about dragons and magic and have nothing to do with poop, stimulation, sleeping cycles etc.

I now know that my approach is not like others and I am okay with that. I brush off the looks of judgement, worry, horror on people's faces when I answer a question about how we are approaching the arrival of our little one. In fact, I would prefer not to talk about how we will parent or what decision we will make about childcare. I end up having to politely smile and nod, and hopefully tune out, as people start giving me their opinions, which sound a lot more like facts if you ask me.

We are going to do this our way; you may judge, snicker behind my back as much as you like, think that we are nuts but at the end of the day every single is person is different and parenting comes down to finding what works for you, what makes you feel happy and mostly guilt-free as well as ensuring the needs of your child are met enabling you to tune in to your baby and give it as much love as you can. You are not wrong on how you choose to approach parenthood and neither am I.

And all of this is before I have even mentioned I am plan to give birth at home...then the eyebrows really rise....

<chuckle chuckle>

The Crash

It had to happen... the proverbial crash, meltdown, collapse - whatever you want to call it. I am in the aftermath now, bleary eyed, humourless, exhausted. Somehow the realisation of everything that is happening and everything that will happen has hit. And it has hit hard.

I am a mother.

Now, some people may disagree since my child does not appear outside of my body but for all emotional and psychological purposes I am a mother. This realisation (one that should be obvious by the belly that is growing on me)  hit me yesterday.

I decided to take a time-out from the day to do some relaxation breathing, sending my thoughts to the child in my womb, saying hi, sending reassuring messages and overall just bonding with this little being. My hands rested lightly on my belly and I couldn't believe the movement I felt coming from within. It was like s/he could feel me and was responding. Tears of joy escaped my closed lids and suddenly all of my own fear about the future disappeared and all I could think of was letting this little one know that there was nothing to be afraid of and that I am so excited to meet him/her.

It was a massive shift for me. I was suddenly very aware of this little life force that already needed to feel loved and secure in my belly. I realised that this little one had the tough journey of making its way into a very scary and unknown world after hours of pushing through a small and dark canal. To be honest, I think the baby will have a tougher time coming out than I will trying to help her/him out. A great sense of peace and purpose overtook me and I went through the day not as one person but distinctly as two people, one which I was holding close.

As quickly as this realisastion struck me there came a slow dawning of the fact that my partner and husband was not and could not feel the same way. Rushing around working, dealing with high stress means his mind is elsewhere. After contributing 12 hours of steadfast focus and stress there is not much room for the rest of the world. This difference meant that the distance between us suddenly felt like a gulf.  Like all of a sudden it was me and the baby on one side and he was on the other. The worst part? He had no clue that this had happened. It was a crushing realisation that sparked a lot of hurt and loneliness on my behalf which resulted in this being transferred to him. Making for an emotional night when what we both needed was rest.

I am not sure how to communicate with anyone how I am feeling. I feel guilt that I cant, guilt for being so emotional, guilt for changing whilst others stay the same. It is as though I am being pulled down a river on a tide of emotional and physiological changes that are taking me away from anything I know or understand .

It is quite isolating and yet I do not feel alone. Now it is me and the baby.


I know that in time I will wash up on the riverbank and everyone will be there waiting for me - they will probably be braaing enjoying some good wine and beer! And I will be overjoyed to join them again. Until then I have to accept that this is a very private journey that only I can fully experience, that is only happening to me, and that it is one that I will emerge from completely changed.

With only 3 months of pregnancy left I want to soak up this miracle that is happening within me and embrace it. I don't want to feel guilty for this private journey or feel anxious that no one can come along with me on it. It is truly an amazing experience, one that I have fallen in love with. I am filled with excitement and joy for the future as my love  for this little being that I have yet to meet face to face grows exponentially.

Another Milestone

Today is a strange day for me. It marks quite a few milestones in my life:

1. It has been 1 year since I held my mom's hand as she took her last breath
2. It has been 1 month since I married my Prince Charming
3. I am 25 weeks pregnant today

Top that with the fact that I have a stomach bug and you have one very emotional and tired lady.

Last night we went for our first antenatal class. As we were walking through the gates I had this feeling we were in a movie, another scene from our very own romantic comedy. I could see us both nervously walking through the gates, clutching sweaty palms, walking towards another milestones that represents our ever expanding world of grown-up-ness.

Just a year ago we were both in such different stages and not even together, and now here we were sitting in a room filled with strange pregnant bellies waiting for a lovely woman to tell us it is all going to be okay. Unfortunately we couldn't stay for the entire session, thanks to this nasty stomach bug.

But all in all it was a wonderful experience, the two of us embracing this journey towards parenthood together. In truth we are walking the path slowly and carefully. I think we are both careful to not lose ourselves, as individuals and as a couple. The idea of losing what we are for each other is probably the thing that scares us most about becoming parents.

This entire experience is definitely changing me, changing us, in subtle ways all the time. I am trying my best to keep a handle on the range of emotions that seem to fly through me daily and not let the wave overwhelm me because no one likes a bumbling mess of tears!

To my wonderful husband: I love you more everyday and I am so happy to be going through this experience with you.