*Since I’m having surgery today and will be recovering for the next several days, I asked Jayne from Mum’s The Word if she would do another guest post. If you haven’t checked out her blog yet, run on over there.
I think I can safely say that my expectations of parenthood, from the moment I found out that I was to become a Mum, right up to the trials and tribulations of caring for a toddler, have been completely shattered by the actual reality of it all.
I found out that I was pregnant because I was suffering from such severe morning sickness that my perpetual vomiting caused me to tear a hole in my oesophagus. That was the start of an increasingly difficult pregnancy, during which I developed diabetes, SPD, polyhydramnia and a multitude of other delightful conditions.
There was no pregnancy glow for me (unless you count sweat on my brow and vomit on my bottom lip). No one ever told me that pregnancy suited me, or that I exuded any sort of nurturing serenity. No, I was ill, huge, ungainly and largely miserable. Pregnancy was not what I expected it to be.
Then, there was the labour part. Oh god, the labour part. High blood pressure, medical inducement, errant consultants, a failed epidural and then an emergency c-section. By no means the natural, wondrous experience I’d hoped for.
As if to compound the bad pregnancy and labour, my precious baby then spent the first 8 days of her life in intensive care. If there was one thing that I didn’t expect, it was that I didn’t get to hold my daughter until she was a week old. I had to stand by and watch as she was cared for by nurse after nurse, unable to do anything for her.
The thing that I was least prepared for of all was the fact that I had to go home empty handed, leaving my baby behind in the hospital. I did not expect the first week of my daughter’s life to be tinged with worry and sadness.
But more than any of this, I did not expect that I was capable of feeling so much love for one tiny human being. I did not expect to be so happy to be tired and covered in sick/pasta sauce/Play Doh. I did not expect to be happy to give up my social life.
I did not expect to take more pleasure from buying clothes for my daughter than for myself. I did not expect to be so excited by every new word, action or facial expression she learns. I did not expect to be so happy to spend every minute of every day with my mini human. I did not expect to want to spend my holidays at Euro Disney.
Nothing about parenthood is what I expected. But I wouldn’t change it for a second.