Some Things That No One Tells You Mum

Things that no one tells a soon to be Mamma.

Please be aware that this is a NHB (No holding back) post which may contain TMI for some readers! 😂😂

If you read this and wish you hadn’t, too bad really… But you can’t say you weren’t warned!

The Early Days

1. The first visitors to the hospital will be a blur. I was so out of it on adrenaline and whatever horse tranquilizers they’d given me that my first visitors still talk about how “great” I was… And yet I don’t remember a thing about the first day!

If you have other kids, manipulating the visitors so that your kids and then Grandparents are first in, is a military operation! Hopefully it will only be your nearest and dearest who come along initially.

Most people are good at knowing that it’s best to wait until Mamma is settled at home before they visit. There are no rules of course, but in my little rule book, only go to the hospital if it’s one of your closest friends or a close family member.

2. The interruptions: You’ll just have drifted off to snooze after finally getting your little one to nod off and the door of the ward shall swing open and in comes “The Beeper”.

The Beeper is the little Blood Pressure monitor and fancy trolley the lovely midwives push from ward to ward to make sure you and baby are doing OK. It looks like Johnny 5 and has a habit of appearing at the most inconvenient times.

Don’t get me wrong. The midwives have a schedule and have to do their rounds and it’s all in your best interest, but you will learn to loath the Beeper. But it’s only for a few days and it makes going home to your own bed all the sweeter.

3. Your first toilet trip: With Mini-Me, I read all the books. ALL of them! My Darling mother happily answered my questions with brutal honesty. When I found out I’d be having her by section, my amazing friend told me all about hers in her colourful language.

Having grown up on a farm and having helped out, hands on I might add, with MANY C-Sections on Cows, I felt quite prepared. I put my faith, my trust and my vulnerable self in the care of the surgeons and all was right with the world.

But NO ONE prepared me for the first toilet trip…when you go for your first pee, apparently it’s normal to feel like you’re being sliced open again without anaesthetic this time! I swear to God, I thought I was going to die right there on the loo. It was not pretty. The pain almost made me puke.

And as if that wasn’t terrifying enough, the first poo is fecking horrendous! I have it on good authority that it is the same for Mummies who deliver vaginally. Again, I thought my entire insides were falling out.

I roared so loudly that The Him actually called for a midwife and she had to come in to convince me that no, I hadn’t just passed my bowel and no, my diaphragm wasn’t in the toilet and no, I wasn’t going to die.
But don’t tell anyone. How undignified and ridiculous right?

4. The Boobs: Now, for me, this was a big deal. And I mean Big in every sense of the word. As a woman of the Fried egg club, to wake up on day three with two bald heads in my bra, was quite the trauma. I swear to God I looked like Jordan. I’ve always wondered if I’d like to have boobs… No. No I wouldn’t . Thank you. No. Give me my fried eggs any day.

5. The journey home: My memory of this one still makes me laugh. The walk from the ward to the car with your lovely car seat is one of the most surreal experiences of your life. I hadn’t stepped more than 6 foot to the bathroom in 4 days.

Suddenly I had to waddle my way down corridors, into lifts (oooooh that bump takes on a whole new level of weirdness after a section!), through a lobby (carrying balloons to boot!) and out into the car. It was like running 20feet and then thinking you’re ready for a marathon the next day.

Daddy is grinning like a Cheshire cat while you shall be torn between scolding him for swinging the seat too much when he walks, and holding your ladybits in because they feel like they are about to fall the hell out of you with every step!

Getting into the car is a challenge and then there’s the drive home. I dare say The Him didn’t go above 40mph because of the precious cargo and of course because of my delicate state. We both give out about ‘Dooters’ on the road, but Oh my did he ‘dooter’ out the road that day!

6. The tears: Oh tears. Those unpredictable little feckers… They come in waves. You have NO control over them. They’ll arrive at the worst times. And you’ll possibly laugh at the same time because you will have no idea why the hell you’re crying! But let them flow. It’s completely normal! I’m still crying over anything and my Baby is 3!

7. The Visitors: While you’ll want nothing more than to see people and introduce your new bundle to your loved ones, bear in mind that your first day or two at home will be exhausting, emotional and terrifying.
If I had been able to pay the miracle midwives to come home with me, I would have.
I remember getting to the house with The Him and the Car seat and being soooooo frightened. There was no buzzer. There were no nurses down the hall. It was just us.
But do you know, we were fine. As you will be too.

8. Newborns are actually much more interesting than you ever thought they were. But here’s the key. YOUR newborn is interesting. To YOU and your partner . Don’t be offended if your visitors only stare at the baby for a few minutes. Yes of course they’re interested and of course they’ll think your baby is gorgeous, but while you can watch this little person doing NOTHING for hours on end, to others, it is exactly that…a little person doing nothing!

They don’t see the miraculous progression from yesterday, or that the baby is holding your focus for a few moments longer… or that her grip seems more purposeful. So don’t get offended that your friends seem to glance at your little cherub, declaring his cuteness or that she has your eyes, before moving promptly on to some other topic of conversation. It’s normal.

And be honest, you’ve probably done it yourself many times. Because other people’s babies are not that interesting are they?

9. Lasagne can make you cry: The gifts and parcels and flowers will come and be hugely appreciated. But the most welcomed and remembered offering to the home of the newborn…is food! And the best kind of food is something that can be portioned, reheated, frozen or even eaten cold from the casserole dish. Think curry. Think chilli. Think lasagne. You never realised how good lasagne tastes. It’ll make you so happy that may cry tears of joy.

10. You suddenly won’t care who washes your knickers: Maybe this was just me. Before I had Mini-Me, the thought of someone else doing my washing would have driven me mad with shame. Not because there’s anything wrong with my smalls, No! But I could never have even entertained the thought of my Mum or Mother-in-Law washing them. And then I got over that VERY quickly. Because the first time I realised that the washing machine was going without me having started it, my initial panic was so overwhelmed by total gratitude that I even surprised myself. Now, I still don’t like the idea of someone washing my knickers, but for the first few weeks after birth, you really shouldn’t give a damn.

So now you’re home. And you could probably add 10 more things to this list.

toes
Add away Supermums

I am Scary Clippers Mum 

Feck-it-up Friday seems an appropriate day for this smumble!  😘
Being pregnant is scary.  You worry about everything; the pregnancy, the birth, how you’ll be as a Mammy. You think about the things that are frightening you already, even before Baby arrives; feeding, burping, sickness, temperatures, exhaustion, “doing the right thing” etc etc.
But one of the worst experiences of being a Mammy is one that you would never even consider during pregnancy.  The true horror of this particular terror only enters your mind when you are faced with it for the first time.
I am of course referring to the “Cutting of the nails”.

The first time you realise that your minion’s nails might need trimmed, is a milestone. You remain calm. You pull out the little cute scissor and clipper set that came in a baby shower gift.  It’s no big deal.
And then, you hold the little clipper, hovering over their little soft nails, wondering wtf to do…
It’s possibly one of the worst fears you’ll ever experience.  What if she moves? What if your hand shakes? What if you cut him?

And yet, like every challenge you’ve faced in the past 10 months, you take a deep breath and go for it.  And most of the time, you are so careful that OF COURSE, you are succesful and the little nails get trimmed.
And the fear might lessen, but it never goes away.
You grow confident.

You get comfortable.

You stop thinking about it… and then it happens.
You nip his or her little finger, just ever so slightly, but enough to make them catch THEIR breath, start suddenly and then scream a cataclysmic howl that rips every shred of your being and soul to smithereens… It crushes you.
You drop the clippers. You instinctively pull the wee hand to your mouth. You kiss the fingers. You clutch the baby so close to you that you feel every molecule of her pain as you try in vain to sooth them.  You sob with them, trying so hard to calm them. You wish you could rewind 2 minutes. You curse yourself for being the worst Mammy in the world. You eventually find the baby settling a little, the screams gently easing to little wobbly lipped sobs.  You are afraid to look at the massacred finger, certain that there HAS to be blood everywhere and that you have scarred her for life.
But when you finally look at the little fingertip, chances are the nip is utterly tiny and simply a little more pink than usual.  Ok, so there might be a little cut, but it will disappear as instantly as it happened.

The FEELING however remains in you.  It never leaves.  It’s guilt.  It’s  regret.  It’s self loathing…
and like all the other milestones, it happens to all of us and it’s perfectly normal.
The first time is the worst.  If you’re lucky, it will not happen again.  But you WILL feel the same emotion again at some point, maybe when you step on her toe for the first time, or catch her finger in the drawer, of scratch her thigh with a ring while changing a poonami, or watch her fall right in front of you, but just out of your reach… the list is endless.
Unless you wrap your minions in bubblewrap, they are destined to get hurt. But when you know that the injury has been your fault, there is NOTHING that can make you feel worse.
(Unless you’re my sister, who recently sat a chair leg on Mini-Me’s toe. Mini-Me screamed for 15 minutes. My poor sister was devastated. I was rocking Mini-Me, soothing her while Granny held a cold cloth on her toe and simultaneously trying to convince the Aunty that it was absolutely fine and that she shouldn’t be upset, when Madam announced through her sobs “I…don’t…need….no….naunty….no….more!”  😂😂 THAT made her feel worse I think! 😅😅)
But I digress.
Yes, beware the Clippers.

But remember, that it’s just another Mammy milestone.
Any stories? Feel free to share. 👇👇👇
😘😘😘😘