Breaking the Band Up

I think one of the things that I found so hard about the first 4-6 weeks of Daisy’s life was that my old life had completely disappeared and I felt so totally out of control of everything that I knew how to do, what I had created, what Rob and I shared that was all of a sudden so very different and surely never to be the same again. Sure, I knew that a baby was coming (der…we had planned the pregnancy and eagerly anticipated her arrival), and was SO excited about it but also SO totally unaware of what was about to happen the moment she came into our world.

I think that along with the crazy bitch hormones that were surging through my system, with trying to cope/grasp/understand the overwhelming love I had for this little person, and that she was my number one focus now, not Rob, or anyone for that matter, I went through a little grieving process for my old life. There I said it. I know that many people are all roses and powder and babies bottoms when they have a baby but for me those first weeks were fear. And anxiety. And feeling out of control. And completely overwhelmed by a sense of “what have we done?” “Why didn’t anyone tell me it would be like this?”. I distinctly remember the moment that she came into the world – crying (real tears for that matter) that I thought to myself “Oh shit. I am the ONLY person in this room that can make her stop crying. Oh shit.” All of sudden the pressure to do look after this little person was SO overwhelming. And I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I always knew what I was doing but here I was, no instruction manual, no freaking idea, and off we were sent. Oh shit indeed.

The next few weeks were hard for different reasons, mastitis that turned into a breast abscess that led to a few nights in hospital on IV antibiotics and my breast being drained every day (how revolting and how painful can you possibly get?). Feeling suffocated that I had to be within 3 hours of the next feed, the sheer amount of time that it took to feed, and then not be able to do that right. Being so jealous of Rob being able to leave and walk out the door and be a real person in the real world going to a real job. It was just awful. And overwhelming.

But then it somehow got better. I talked to LOTS of people and talked A LOT about everything that I was feeling. And that made it better that they too found it so hard the first time around – I wasn’t alone! We somehow got into a rhythm the minx and Rob and I, and started to work out what all needed. We got a little more rest, and things (as everyone said they would) just got a little bit easier. I felt a little more in control and on top of things and that made me feel better. I took some pressure on myself to not know how to do everything perfectly, and that made things better. And then months passed by and now years and the life that we once had, well while it was far more relaxing, and so very much easier, it was by NO way better than what we have now. The three of us are far better than just the two of us. Daisy brings out things in Rob and I that make us both better people to live with, work with, be friends and family with.

And what a trio we make. How much fun we have. And how we all love each other. How was there ever a time when she wasn’t around?

And now here we are looking down the barrel of another massive change in our lives. ANOTHER little person. And I have to admit we are both a little scared (actually for me, a lot scared). We have been open and honest with each other and talked about how we are sad that our little band will be soon breaking up. It’s like before Daisy but we know now, rather than when we get home that things are going to be SO very different for all us.

I know that in time, when we sort out all the teething issues – the fights for attention from Daisy, the hormones and tears from me, the helplessness from Rob that it will be a better band, a richer and stronger unit than before, and we will wonder how on earth we never had this little person in it, but right now I am holding onto all the sweet little memories I have of just the three of us. They are locked away in pictures and stories in here, around our house, paintings on the walls of the kitchen and of course in my heart. I am scared and nervous and excited but my feelings of “oh shit what have we done?” are so much shorter this time around because I know it’s just going to be better.