This week, my eldest turned 11, and it made me think about becoming a first time parent; the whole aspect of being a mum that nobody thinks to cover or talk enough about, if at all.
Obviously, what's covered is the practical side of pregnancy, birthing and then the initial stages of looking after said baby. The physical and emotional side of motherhood is usually in the context of the newborn and then, if you have decent care, about the baby blues and postnatal depression. There is a whole side of entering motherhood that isn't always properly explored or articulated.
It's the loneliness.
Suddenly you aren't just you, you have the title of mum. You have the baby and usually most mothers have some time at home as maternity leave. I know the length of this varies dependent on where you live in the world and circumstances. In the UK, it's not unusual for women to take 12 months maternity leave.
The big question is, what happens during maternity leave?
You are thrust into a new position of mother to a newborn. Your life before the birth, will not look like the life after the birth. I mean that's glaringly obvious as the demands of the baby takes over but what no one tells you is that your day-to-day life suddenly changes. Just like that, you aren't doing your usual daily routine that you did without thinking before the baby. You aren't seeing the same people day in and day out. In fact, I would easily predict you see very few people. It's a huge shock to go from maybe a busy work filled life, to a life that grounds to a halt on that front. Not completely to a halt because now your boss is your baby but that in itself is a huge learning curve.
So here you are, post-pregnancy, exhausted, a body recovering from carrying and birthing, leaky and hormonal with this newborn, which you are now the responsible adult for. How scary is that? Initially it's ok, hopefully you have support from someone, as you fumble your way through some kind of new routine but then your go to person, my husband in my case, has to go back to work and you are literally left carrying the baby.
You, yourself, in your head haven't essentially changed overnight but your circumstances have. For me, it took a very long time for my brain to catch-up as my son came early, with little warning. You start out hormonal and tired, and when and if that tiredness lifts, your body is no longer your friend but a stranger you need to get to know again. Along with this, is a different way of life.
There was a real sense of loss for my old self and my way of life. I missed work, I missed the conversations and my social circles connected with work. I missed what seemed like high brow conversations when I was faced with daytime TV.
For me, I commuted elsewhere for work and I'd never put down roots or made friends in the community where I lived. All the friends I saw often, were all working. I realised that I didn't really know anyone where I lived. I don't think this is unusual. A lot of people commute for work and spend the majority of their time working. It makes sense that forging relationships in the community where you actually live doesn't always happen, unless you are actively involved with local groups etc.
What happens is that you have to relearn a new way of living and find a new you.
Fortunately, we'd paid to attend the National Childbirth Trust (NCT) antenatal classes and we did that primarily to make friends where we lived, with those expecting babies around the same time. That was a real lifeline in those early days. We all lived locally and we were all in the same position. We were bonded by our first babies. Without these wonderful women, I would've completely drowned in loneliness and isolation. They were vital for my early wellbeing.
Also, when I was able, physically and emotionally, I went out. As it was winter, if it was dry we would go for walks. I walked a lot and visited the supermarket quite a bit, just staring at the aisles because it got us out and it meant we were surrounded by people. My eldest was premature and small, so especially during the first autumn and winter, we tried to limit who he came into contact with in the early days. We didn't want illness to cause complications and setbacks to his growth. This kept him safe but us isolated for a time.
As spring beckoned we became more adventurous and through Facebook and the local children's centre we found groups that we could attend. It's like starting from scratch in terms of finding a social life and friends. A lot of it is for the children to socialise and then hopefully you will connect with some of the other mums there. It's a real hit-and-miss process and you never know if it will come to more than just a nod of acknowledgement. The only thing you initially have in common is that you happen to be new mums. Most of the time, when my husband was at work, it felt like it was me and the baby against the world. We put our game face on, to face the world, to seek out new potential connections and possible friendships. It's a huge thing to undertake when you are at quite a vulnerable stage in life.
Finding your tribe takes time.
Playgroups and so forth, help bring a whole host of parents and carers together; it’s not enough to necessarily bind you and make you firm friends and nor should it. We are individuals first and foremost that now have an additional role and responsibility in our lives. It took me a very long time to feel like I had made new close friendships as a mum. In fact, I didn’t feel like I properly developed close friendships, outside of the NCT parents, until we’d relocated to a small town up north; at which point I'd not long had my second child.
We lucked out, moving to a very family oriented, warm, friendly and close-knit community. There was a list of inexpensive and free groups, we could attend pretty much every day. A couple of mums had put together a Facebook group for the towns mum's and I remember being introduced as the 500th member. On Friday mornings, the group would hold a relaxed drop-in morning at the local soft play place. It really helped me settle in, and feel included, and from there I started to form my network of friends, for which I'll be forever grateful.
Now and then, I still pop into a playgroup I attended with my youngest. I go there for a cuppa and a chat, with the mums and carers I socialised with, before my youngest started school.
2020 was a hugely difficult and problematic year for everyone.
For first time parents, the feelings of loneliness and isolation caused by COVID restrictions would have exacerbated the normal feelings experienced during this time. I can't imagine how that added layer of complexity felt and we will never truly understand the impact COVID has had on the individual and social dynamics of society.
Unfortunately when COVID hit, all the groups stopped and the soft play place here, like so many other businesses folded. That Friday morning group, as it was, never resurfaced because with all that time during COVID, everyone who went had moved on and the kid's had grown.
I know, becoming a mum for the third time during COVID, that I retreated from life, when life opened up. I'd grown accustomed to social distancing and social isolation. Also, my third child, like my first, was premature and I was worried about him getting COVID. Every step towards socialisation was cautiously taken. It felt alien and scary. It says a lot about how quickly we adapt to life, that returning to the life I knew so well, was taken with slow and and unsure footing.
Now, when I talk about that time, it feels like I'm talking about another lifetime completely. I don't feel like I merely got through it — I barely survived it from a mental and emotional standpoint. I came through that year completely broken, in spirit and mind, and it's taken years to piece myself back together into something resembling myself.
Becoming a new mum is difficult on all fronts.
Accepting the role of mum and finding peace in a new way of life can take time, and that's okay. Nobody steps into the role without experiencing difficulty. It's hard putting yourself out there and it's hard making friends and finding your tribe.
Unfortunately, we don't talk about it nearly enough. I think we do it to be kind, but by glossing over it or not speaking about it at all, we do new mums a disservice and leave them feeling like they are the only one.
So I say to all new mums, you certainly aren't alone. We've all been there and you will get through it. In a very clichéd way, you'll discover a new you. You'll surprise yourself and find you are much stronger and more capable than you gave yourself credit for.
I've written this from the perspective of new mothers but this is applicable for any new stay-at-home fathers or carers.
In fact, I think it's probably harder for stay-at-home dads and male carers, as there aren't as many of them generally. The majority of groups, I attended, are still attended by mums. I hope this will continue to change with the ability to now share maternity leave in the UK. I am also hopeful that, along with the closing of the gender pay gap and other pay disparities, this will open up the freedom for real, tangible choices for everyone raising children.
Weekly Update
Every week seems to be busy but this one especially with birthday planning thrown in. Tiredness seems to be a common theme, week in, week out.
Writing went better than last week, though I missed a couple of days again, so I doubled up and I actually wrote a little on Saturday too, to make sure I kept to my target. On Monday, I'll be over the 10,000 word count. In about a week's time, I'll be having my sponsored mentoring 1-2-1 session with Poorna Bell and it will be good to discuss more about the way I'm writing and what I can do to develop it further. I'm not getting writers block but I'm making decisions as I write and as I do, I'm thinking, maybe I should've explored this more or gone off on tangent. Given the amount, or lack, of time I have, I just plow on as I am, thinking this will all be part of the editing — if I get that far!
I read an exceptional book this week called The Gift by Edith Eger, a Holocaust survivor and psychologist. On the train ride to Auschwitz her mother gave her the advice 'No one can take from you what you've put in your mind'. This turned out to be very powerful and helped her be free in her mind when she was imprisoned. Freedom of mind and the ability to choose how we face hardships is a running theme through her book. More often than not we imprison ourselves in our ways of thinking which stops us from growing and moving forward. It's not about denying trauma but it's about acknowledging it, sitting with it and finding a way through, so it doesn't hold us back from living. It's a beautiful book, written by a remarkable woman of 97!
I've been to the gym and swimming as planned. At the gym, I'm pushing myself to go up in weights and not get complacent. I really do feel better for it all. Obviously, there's been no meditation! I'm a broken record.
I've been in school this week and I'm now officially a letterbox penpal befriender awaiting allocation of a suitable penpal. The expectation is to send a letter every month at a minimum and more often, dependent on how often they write. It's all very well organised and safely done through the charity Omega.
I'm getting to the point where I can't take any more on. It's crazy to think I was worried I didn't know how to fill my time and now I'm wondering where all my free time went. All self-imposed, me being the boss of myself, so I've got no one else to blame but myself. I guess the only difference is, is I'm filling my time with everything I want to be doing and everything is now vying for attention, including the more mundane aspects of life.
My biggest concern is burnout so I'm hoping to find a pace to suit. Some days, I've literally not stopped from school drop-off to school pick-up. I guess it's finding that balance and the right ebb and flow that will take some trial and error.
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