I keep having these realisations…. I. am. a. Mom. ***Looking in the mirror, “Yes, I am a Mom.” When I called the GP to set up an appointment for my son to get his injections at 8 weeks old, the receptionist asked,
I am exhausted. I feed my son. 9pm. 12am. 2am. 5am. I wake up. 6am. I hussle to the train. I get into work. 7:30am. I tell colleagues I’m happy I’m back at work. I breastpump in the toliet. 12pm. No lunch break.
I pretend to smile. I pretend I am awake. I want to cry. I miss him. I rush out the door. I just make it to the train. Thank god. 4pm. I get off the train.
I’m really good at holding all of these feelings inside. I hide behind “I am great!” and “I’m getting used to being tired ha ha!” and “It’s a nice break from being with a baby all day!” Smile. Smile. Smile. I am fighting to be the person I used to be. But it’s not about me anymore, my son is in charge. I need to accept that I have changed. I glance at the photo on my screen saver….
In a very fast-paced walk, I pretty much run to the nursery. I’m so excited. I pick my son up and he smiles. 4:30pm. I get an extra hour and a half after work with my son. I try to convince myself that I am lucky because I get this extra time. I breastfeed my son. 5pm.
I can’t keep my eyes open. Live in the moment Meagan. Be present. My body feels like it’s dragging in the mud. My brain has melted into my ears. I kiss my son on the cheek. My heart and body feel warm. I read him a story. 5pm. I turn on the bath.
My son smiles at me while he’s in the bath. My heart flutters. I wrap him in a towel. He is safe and warm and still smiling. I breastfeed him. 7pm. I lay him down and say goodnight. He looks up at me with wide eyes. I shush in his ear and say I love you.
(this is Monday night after my first day of work, after I rocked him to sleep, I held him a lot longer that night)
A group of mums sharing their experiences on pregnancy, post-birth, breastfeeding, work-life balance, and more.
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