I can try and pretend its all honey and roses and how obliviously happy I am. I could wrack my brain to write scintillatingly funny posts full of wit about how grand motherhood is.
Or could I be honest.
I started this blog as an outlet for my emotions and thoughts while battling with infertility. And it helped to be honest. It was very therapeutic to get it out by writing it down, and sharing it made me feel less alone. I think I need to do the same with motherhood.
There is an expectation, after infertility, that once the baby/babies arrive, nirvana is finally achieved and happiness and joy abound. Airbrushed pictures of the mother and long awaited child are bathed in soft rose tinted lighting. The mother is rested and at peace. The child in the mother’s arms is healthy, happy, and NOT CRYING.
There is also an expectation, mostly on the part of every one else, that the new mother should be so enormously grateful to have finally achieved their dream that no complaints or moans should pass the lips of the new mother. You have to suck it all up because after all ‘you wanted this’ and ‘this is what you fought for, for so long’.
Then there is the unspoken admonishment of your fellow infertiles to present the good side, not to complain, because they would gladly, completely embrace any thing you might complain about in order to have a child.
YOU UNGRATEFUL THING, YOU HAVE A CHILD, HOW DARE YOU COMPLAIN.
And yet. It’s fucking hard. This new motherhood thing. The pressure to cope without complaining, to be grateful and happy. And all of this on little or no sleep.
How dare I complain? I have what I fought for, for so long and so hard. And other people cope with far less help than I have.
Well let me tell you, I am not having a fun time. I love my children, v v much. I am eternally grateful to have finally got my children, but it is over whelming. It is scary. It makes me want to cry. I feel helpless, I feel totally incompetent.
I have no food in my house. I have not eaten a meal in days. I look revolting. I feel revolting. I have a runny tummy, I am still bleeding clotty blood. My boobs look ugly, my tummy still looks huge. I feel drained, I feel empty. All I want to do is have a glass of wine and tune out for a while.
(oh THANK GOD they have both just fallen asleep while I push the stroller with my one foot while typing).
Kate is still constipated and straining. It makes her fretful and she wont sleep. Which means she is up in my arms all the time. My heart breaks for her. I feel like the worst mother in the world because I can’t fix her pain. Poor Adam gets sidelined because I can’t hold more than one baby at once. Again, what a horrible mother am I!
My mother came over this afternoon to help with a feed and I went into the bathroom and cried.
I wanted twins, I am happy I have two babies, I love my babies v v much, but its hard hard work. One baby you can hold all the time. You can't with two or more.
I sit with Adam, trying to get a burp out. I can see it is hurting him and I can’t get it out. My poor son, his mother can’t help him. I rush Kate’s feed because I can hear Adam crying. Instead of getting 100% attention and love, my babies have to share and get away with less. That feels so wrong.
The enormous pressure to make sure they drink enough. I have to force them to feed, I have to make them uncomfortable while feeding so that they don’t fall asleep. I wipe their little faces with a cold cloth. I feel like the feeding nazi. When other people feed them I find myself shouting ‘don’t comfort them! They are going to fall asleep!’ How horrible of me. Force-feeding them. Shoving bottles down their throat. When all I want to do is hug them, cuddle them and hold them. Instead I force feed them and then pray they sleep afterwards. What kind of a mother am I?
I would do any thing to ensure they are happy. And yet sometimes I can’t fix it. Sometimes no matter how much I love them, they still cry. And that breaks my heart.
And yet every one wants me to be happy. I feel like I am letting every one down by my tears. This is what I wanted, why am I feeling so tearful?
And after taking over an hour to feed, burp and change the babies, their next feed is an hour away. I still have to wash their bottles, try and find something to eat for myself, prepare the bottle for the night, shower….. They say nap when the babies nap. How do you do that with two?
I love my babies fiercely, completely. How dare I say that I am not having fun? That this way harder than I ever expected? And yet I am not allowed to complain. When I do say how hard it is, people say ‘but this is what you wanted’, or similar. And so I complain less and cry more.
My darling mother has just phoned to say she is a phone call away and that I am doing an excellent job as a mother. That is what I needed to hear.
Sigh. Onwards and forwards and hopefully I wont do too much damage to my children in the process. How can you not be happy when you have this?