Wednesday, 10 August 2016

I'm Sorry I Was Smug

Dear Other Mums

My first baby was an easy one. He could be a little highly strung at times, but on the whole we never really had many issues to deal with during his first year and my word, wasn't I just the biggest dick about it. When I encountered those of you that were dealing with the curve-balls that I wasn't, I would often make remarks about or, worse, to you about how the situation could be improved; about what you should or shouldn't be doing to put things right, as though a baby's behaviour is somehow down to more than just plain luck (it isn't) and that I was actually in control of what was happening in my own house (I wasn't).

So, to all the mums to whom I offered unsolicited and unwanted advice and to those that I expressed my 'concerns' about to my husband (honestly, what a dick), this post is for you about the things I said/thought that deserved a punch in the face.

"You need to take some time out for yourself." - I'm sorry. I didn't know. It was easy for me to achieve me-time when Blake was small simply because he let me. I could go out and enjoy myself, safe in the knowledge that he would sleep soundly through the night, unaware that I was even gone. It turns out that there is an entire flip side to the scenario in which any alone time is spent feeling anxious and on-edge because you just know that your baby is refusing to settle/feed/chill the fuck out for whichever poor sod you've left in charge. I get it now.

"If they're hungry enough, they'll take a bottle." - I'm sorry. I didn't know. Blake took to the bottle no questions asked. I would provide him with self-righteously expressed breastmilk whenever I had to leave him in the care of others and I knew that he would be happy and satisfied when I returned. I have since discovered that there is a breed of baby for whom starvation is apparently preferable to taking milk from a bottle. I get it now.

"You should try formula to get them through the night." - I'm sorry. I didn't know. I was a particularly enormous dick over this one because I didn't even do it. Blake slept through from early on so I sort of assumed that my milk was somehow superior and far more nourishing than anyone else's. Admittedly, on the odd occasion that she has allowed me to give her formula, Merryn has slept a lot better despite the fact that she is receiving the exact same 'superior' breastmilk as Blake had, but it turns out that actually she doesn't give a shit about any of that. I get it now.

"You should try controlled crying." - I'm sorry. I didn't know. I thought that crying at night meant a bit of angry whingeing and occasional shouting that eventually tailed off into blissful and complete slumber. I didn't know that there was a very real level of distress that existed in the wee small hours in which your baby sobs breathlessly and inconsolably until you pick them up. I get it now.

"You shouldn't let them dictate when the day starts." - I'm sorry. I didn't know. I simply could not get my head around parents that got up with their children at five o'clock in the morning. To me, that was still the middle of the night and, on the slim chance that Blake woke, I would always settle him back down in bed and go back to sleep. Yet there are babies who will thrash, shout, sing, flip over and crawl across your head until you get up with them at four thirty and play with Megablocks on the front room floor, watching the scene unfold through a veil of your own tired tears. I get it now.

"You're making a rod for your own back by co-sleeping." - I'm sorry. I didn't know. Blake would come into bed with us at about seven in the morning for his morning feed, after which we would both doze happily until we were ready to get up. Shortly after his first birthday, he dropped that feed completely and now we can't bribe him to get into bed with us for cuddles. And that was okay; it was good and proper and he didn't form bad habits. I had no idea about the dark, early hours of the morning when all you can do is submit to your exhausted baby's need to be close to you in order to sleep - in order for any of you to sleep. I get it now.

To all of you, I extend my sincerest apologies. I honestly just didn't know.