Those First Few Weeks

Although it may have been just over 3 months ago, those first two weeks still haunt me.
For the first 5 days we were stuck in hospital and I felt like I was being torn apart every night we had to say goodbye to the Mr. It wasn't helped by the fact I felt like a failure on the feeding front and that little Miss turned into a demon child as soon as the Mr left.
Yes I knew on some level that she was reacting to my anguish over being seperated from the Mr, but my poor sleep deprived brain couldn't help but imagine that little Miss resented being left alone with me.
The Mr also had a run in with one of the midwives after she decided to critique his feeding technique as being too soft and then swooped in to pick up little Miss and took her over to the new mum opposite, all the while exclaiming that little Miss clearly thought herself a princess (aka diva) and that we were pandering to her. As the Mr demanded our child back and none too politely told the midwife to back off, I wanted the ground to swallow me.

I felt like a failure for not defending our daughter and I was sick with worry over being stuck with a midwife overnight that my husband had just pulled up in front of the entire ward. That night was the first time I broke down post labour, quietly sobbing behind the hospital curtains and praying no one would hear me.

Once home Ellie was inconsolable. It was not unusual for her to cry unless sleeping or feeding and nothing we did could console her.

They were the darkest of days and the time that we constantly questioned whether we had made the right decision fighting so hard to become parents.

Health visitors and midwives seem to be visiting constantly during the early weeks and each visit would entail the post natal depression chat and each time I'd attach a suitablely sombre look to my face and tell them I knew the signs to look for and that I was fine, no really. They all gave me the same not quite buying it look, but none really pressed.

Admitting I wasn't coping and that there were times when I regretted the IVF felt like I was admitting to failure and that this made me a terrible mother.

My lowest ebb was when the Mr had left us to do something upstairs and she screamed at me for what felt like hours. Nothing would soothe her and my frazzled nerves were plummetting.  I had to put her in her moses basket and take a step back. Just as I was trying to calm myself down a stray thought popped in to my head; this is your life now. I'll admit that I curled into a ball on the sofa and sobbed right along with her, it all just seemed so bleak.

There were also times that I am ashamed to admit I raised my voice at her. Immediately after I've always felt intense guilt at my short outburst, but this blog is supposed to be about honesty.

The midwives talk about putting baby down and leaving the room if your temper is rising and we both had to do this several times when the screaming got too much.

Now I am safely out the other side of the newborn phase, I can also look back at a lot of our time as treasured memories. It feels all doom and gloom when you're living it, but I promise it isn't. 

Once we figured out that Ellie liked to be held and hated being put down, we occasionally managed to soothe her. I miss the early days of her snuggled on my chest so tiny and napping away most of the day. Her cute grumpy cat sleeping face and Mick Jagger waking pout has sadly faded, but I know the memories of these are safely locked in my heart forever.

For those Mamas currently struggling with the early weeks, I just want to tell you to hang in there. I didn't believe it when people said to me, but it does get easier. Don't be afraid to admit you need help with how you are feeling and never think you are a failure or abnormal for feeling the way you do. Talking really does help and I promise you will be surprised at how many women admit to feeling exactly the same way. If you don't have a support network of friends or family that you can confide in then reach out to your midwife or GP. Join baby groups, lots are free! Getting out of the house, enjoying some fresh air and speaking to mums experiencing the same as you really does help, even if getting to the class roughly on time feels like climbing Everest blindfolded!