Those of you who pop by the blog regularly on a Monday to read the latest adventures of Mabel are perhaps a little surprised this morning to see a baby boy gracing your screens instead. My name is Lolly and I’m the newest member of the Rock My Style team; yep the self same individual responsible for creating the Pineapple board on our Pinterest account. Guilty as charged.
Some of you may already know me however as the previous Editor of Rock My Wedding, a role which has now passed to the very lovely Fern following the birth of my baby Hector which Charlotte touched on in her post here.
Given that Monday seems to be our designated maternity day and that Charlotte is off sunning herself this week in Portugal, she suggested that perhaps I might like to step into the breach and talk about my experiences of being a new mum in her stead.
I’d be lying if I said that there wasn’t a part of me that hasn’t been procrastinating about writing this piece. It’s not so much that I don’t want to share my experiences and thoughts but more that it’s impossible to know where to begin. How on earth do you fit seven months of the most exhilarating, tiring, challenging and awe-inspiring part of your life into a bite size blog post. You can’t as I expect many of you well know.
I will never quite forget the look on the boy’s face when I announced I was pregnant. We hadn’t exactly been ‘trying’ (blame a fancy dress night and bucketloads of gin) and although I knew I wanted kids ‘some day’, for me it never seemed quite like the right time. Perhaps I was scared, scrap that I was bloody terrified. Not so much about the pain/labour side of things but about the overwhelming responsibility and the possibility of ‘getting it wrong’ thus screwing up aforementioned child in the process. As a self-proclaimed perfectionist and a straight A student at school, ‘getting it wrong’ makes me break out in a cold sweat. Ste meanwhile just beamed from ear to ear.
Perhaps, more selfishly, I worried about the impact it would have on my relationship with my husband, on our dynamic duo. The timing wasn’t ideal; we were and still are encamped at my parents’ house whilst our own house refurb continues apace (more on that in future posts). My vision of our first family Christmas as a trio in our own house ended up being a pipe dream and this will always be a regret of mine.
I didn’t enjoy being pregnant (gosh would you listen to me…what a moaning nora!). You’re not supposed to say that but I’d be lying if I said otherwise. I didn’t get the ‘glow’; instead I had raging heartburn throughout and I gained more weight than I intended to (I blame Green & Blacks). I was also stubbornly determined to not let a drop of alcohol touch my lips despite it being a glorious summer yet all I wanted was gin; ironic given it was this vice that had got me into this situation in the first place.
Hector made his appearance slightly earlier than expected on a rainy Sunday near the beginning of October announcing his arrival with a fierce cry. Mercifully the labour was super quick, yep I was the lady that almost gave birth in the car park – just like you see on One Born Every Minute. What wasn’t so great was doing it without ANY form of pain relief whatsoever – apparently I was too late to the table. That wasn’t in the birth plan. You can guarantee that I bring this up at pretty much every appropriate opportunity.
And then there he was, my perfect boy and within a nanosecond I fell in love.
Ste revealed a whole new side of himself to me; one of eternal love, admiration, pride and unending patience. I’m not sure why this surprised me, after all I married him didn’t I. But I think the depth of his devotion caught me unawares and made me cry pretty much every day for the first two months. Yep every day.
Perhaps more significantly I surprised myself. My ability to function on very little sleep (by god I love my sleep), my passion for steaming and blending every vegetable known to man (I don’t even cook for myself!), my capacity for pain, for endurance and the amount of love I feel for one tiny human being. Yes it’s tough and yes there are times when I wonder if I/we/us will ever feel normal again but I wouldn’t change it for anything.
Hector is completely and utterly worth it.
So there you have it; the short version. I hope to share the trials and tribulations, the laughter and adventures in more detail over the coming months and to hear your stories too.