My enjoyment of my last
pregnancy was seriously clouded by the miscarriage that preceded it, I put so
much effort into protecting myself from further heartbreak that I barely
breathed out for nine months, my entire body was tense throughout, desperately
trying to hold onto this one, yet at the same time permanently braced for
trouble. I even spent most of my labour trying to detach myself emotionally when
Taters heart rate kept dropping in the run up to the emergency c-section, I
thought my worse fears were coming true, that I’d been right all along, I wasn’t
supposed to become a mother.
So when my son arrived all big
and bouncy and healthy, I struggled to adapt to motherhood. I might have been prepared
for problems, but I was completely unprepared for actually having a baby.
So if there is a “this time
around” I want things to be different, maybe even enjoy the experience? Fearing
the worst offers no protection from bad things happening, it simply stops you
enjoying the good things when they occur. I don’t want incessant worrying to
taint the experience this time. And if I am unlucky, I don’t want to have
denied my baby’s existence and not loved them for whatever time we are given
together. But obviously, that’s not something I want to dwell on.
The message is this: If I’m
blessed a second time around, I want to celebrate every moment of it.
So I have a few little ground
rules for myself, things I might need to remember if the going gets tough to
keep the stress at a minimum. There aren’t many, but this is what springs to
mind so far:
- Only ever wear black underwear
and no obsessive checking of TP looking for blood – I think anyone who ever
lost a baby can relate to that, it’s the constant checking that you haven’t
started bleeding and it is seriously bad for your nerves (is that a spec of blood or a fleck of something ingrained in the toilet
paper??) – looking back/down is
completely and utterly banned!
- For the same reason, do not
buy white toilet paper, then you can’t analyse “things” so obsessively because
minor changes don’t stand out the same… (ahem, I am trying to steer away from
too much information here)
- Ditch the perfectionism and
austerity measures and just do my best instead - but be kind to myself. To
explain, I wanted to do everything absolutely by the book last time and get
everything 100% right. Looking back I put far too much pressure on myself and set
myself up for failure (because no one is perfect and the books were full of
rubbish anyway, none seemed to cover either my pregnancy or my kid!). This isn’t
to say I don’t want the best for the baby, but a stressed out mummy is not the
best thing either. I’d like to cut myself some slack this time round (pretty
please may there be a ‘this time around’).
- Eating as healthily as I can
manage goes without saying. But considering Taters was 10 pounds and 8 ounces,
gestational diabetes is a genuine concern – to be on the safe side I think it
would be prudent to keep sugar to a minimum.
- I may well refrain from major
daydreams about the future, but I want to thoroughly appreciate the “now” and
live in the present. I have my brilliant little (nearly) two year old to enjoy
after all don’t I? It wouldn’t do to wish this time away when it is so special
in itself. So just enjoy the now, and squeeze as much happiness and joy out of
it as possible. Hopefully the future will fall into line.
- Keep active as long as
possible too. I was so terrified of losing Taters I was almost afraid to sneeze,
then I started fainting at 18 weeks and before I knew it, I felt like a 90 year
old. I’d like to carry on as normal for as long as possible and not treat
myself like a fragile china doll. I’m doing yoga now, the plan is to continue.
- And if things go well and I
find myself at some point in the future with a delicious little baby in my
arms, a serious word about breastfeeding. I will give it my absolute best,
utilising all the hard won lessons I learned with Taters – but I will not let
another baby scream at me in hunger while I try to please the health visitors
and breastfeeding counsellors and government statistics... Breast milk is
absolutely best, you’ll get no argument from me there. But breastfeeding IS NOT
best when you hardly produce any milk and the baby is frantically hungry, you
are utterly miserable and every feed is a heartbreaking battle. In this
instance, a bottle and a loving cuddle from a happy mummy or daddy is better.
So there it is. Fingers crossed
eh? Let’s see how this goes, I am 36 now after all, that’s practically ancient
in tabloid terms!
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