You know those moments,
From when you first find out there is a new life growing inside of you and you experience the rollercoaster of emotions that comes with probably the most expansive unexpected news you will ever hear. For us, it came on the day Jasper turned one.
Abject shock, smoldering excitement, and a simmering worry on so many things which once that life is realised no longer matter.
Through each following week and passing season when normal life keeps on, filling your world with anxiety and stresses that in six months, one year, three years, a decade, will be forgotten. Cast aside by new anxieties and stresses. But also overwhelmed by memories filled with love, friends, good food, laughter, expanded families and other milestones achieved.
Then that new life is here. Given a name and so a part of your life, your family and your world so instantly that unless you stop and think really hard about it, the life you led before they came into the world seems distant, shadowy and so a work in progress.
And those early days and weeks go by in a haze of sleep deprived survival mode. When this little person does little more than suckle, sleep, burb, fart and poo more goop that you ever thought could possible come from such a little being. And it all washes over you. Seems so overwhelming. You look at your older children and think of all the things you haven’t done with them that you promised you would – that science experiment, that book, that movie, that recipe, that time. And feel such immense guilt. Make a silent promise to try harder, to find that time, to make the effort when all you want to do is lie down and close your eyes.
When there are nights and indeed days when no amount of nursing, patting, singing or cuddling will comfort this new little person who seems to be shaking their fist at the world.
And that just when you feel your spirit breaking – that it’s all too much, that you can’t do it, that your boobs can’t take it anymore, that you just.need.some.sleep. and why won’t anyone give you some space – you get the look.
When this little life stops going all crazy cross-eyed, stops staring at the lounge fabric in complete fascination and looking at you with a furrowed brow and looks at you. Holds your gaze. Stares into the corners of your soul while pulling on your heart so hard in makes you cry.
And you hold this little person tight and sob that you love them no matter what and that they are the most precious person in the world. And still they hold your gaze as if to say, “It’s OK mama, I know.”