Mum feels

They say no one can prepare you for motherhood. You’ll never sleep again, you’ll never get your old life back, you’ll never stop worrying. Well true, but do you know what I was least prepared for? The constant self doubt, the constant questioning of myself as a mum. What should I be doing? How can I do better?  The constant comparison to other mums that I might not even know I’m doing. It’s quite silly really, when you think about it. As a human, and even more so as a female, isn’t it what we spend our whole lives doing? Questioning ourselves and comparing, looking for that impossible perfect? So why didn’t I see that coming?
Maybe because we never really acknowledge it. I’m not sure if it’s a pride thing, or we’re just a little embarrassed to admit it. Because if we admit we spend our whole lives in uncertainty, then we’re surely highlighting our insecurities, and that’s the last thing we want.
No matter how many friends say “You’re doing a good job” or “You’re a great mum,” you don’t really buy it. You just smile hesitantly, maybe give an awkward laugh. Because what you’re really thinking is “How would you know? You didn’t see me cry myself to sleep at 3am or scream my lungs out when he wouldn’t resettle.” What you really feel like doing is rolling your eyes and saying, “Yeah, sure, whatever.” Because you don’t think you’re doing a good job, in fact you’ve convinced yourself you’re not. No, your friends don’t see all the struggles, the mess ups and the “Oh my God” moments.
If there’s one person who does see all that, it’s the husband. If you think he’s seen you at your worst before, think again. And for some reason, he’s the one person you feel like you need to prove yourself to the most. You’ve been telling him you’re ready and have been pressuring him to have a baby since what feels like the third date! Now that the baby is here and you’re asking yourself what you were thinking, all you can do is feel guilt, shame and judgement for forcing him into something you’re failing miserably at.
Yep, if its one person you want to be “perfect” for, it’s Mr Perfect himself. That’s how you feel. And being a mum while being a wife is like being on trial, or sitting an exam, and he’s the one witnessing every wrong answer.

Mr Perfect can do no wrong. He settles the baby when you can’t, he gets him to eat when you can’t, hell, he even manages to get him to lie still to change his nappy (no one prepares you for that arm wrestle!). But instead of breathing a sigh of relief, feeling thankful or even taking a breather, all you can think is “What’s wrong with me?” You start feeling bitter, maybe even a little resentful. You spend every waking second with his little human and he likes Dad more! What gives!?
Any small victory you might have had during the day is forgotten with questions like “When did you last change his nappy?” Or “Isn’t he due for a feed?” He thinks he’s being helpful but you find it completely patronising and degrading. ‘I spend 24/7 with the little guy, I know what I’m doing!’ you say to yourself, which is really quite a laugh, when you’ve spent all day in your head telling yourself you’ve got no idea.

Yes, he really is the one person we need to hear that we’re doing a good job from. We probably still won’t believe it, but it always means a little more from someone who sees us at our most vulnerable, at our most desperate, as long as it’s not followed by “and we are too, right?” That probably sounds incredibly self-centred and selfish, but we are the mums who give 120% of ourselves to someone else in every single moment of every single day, so don’t we have a right to be? It means a little more when we don’t have to tell them how wonderful they are too, especially when we’re sure they already know.
That’s a female mind for you, irrational and emotional.

You’ve got to feel for the husbands. They just thought they had a handle on your insecurities (or had at least learned to live with them) and now they have to pander to your emotional roller-coaster ride while rocking the little one to sleep.

That’s the other thing I wasn’t really prepared for, what being a mum does to your “wife material” self. Because every time you think you’re failing as a mum, it means you think you’re failing even harder as a wife. Being a tired, grumpy, overwhelmed mum are not ‘sexy’ traits. It also takes being a people pleaser to a whole new level. Not only are you trying to please a baby (yes, that’s right, I honestly expect to please a newborn infant), I’m also trying to please my husband while I’m completely on edge and about to lose myself.

If we could all take a step back and realise we are raising tiny humans, and that in itself is pretty amazing, then maybe we wouldn’t be so hard on ourselves. When we’re questioning if we should have breastfed for longer like our neighbour, let them “cry it out” like our cousin or rocked them to sleep like our best friend, maybe what we should be doing is appreciating the little things we did do. The silly voices that made them smile, the games of peak-a-boo that had them in hysterics or the fact they can entertain themselves but stop momentarily to give you a cuddle.

I write all this on the day that our little Logan turns 10 months old. It might be hard to believe, but my frame of mind now is a lot more positive than it was at the 10 week milestone. I still have the doubts, I still question myself. But I guess I’ve come to terms with the fact that I always will, and that’s just the way it is. I’m also starting to come to the realisation that I’m the best mum that I know how to be, and maybe that is good enough. Or at least, it will have to be. I’m certainly not perfect, I know there’s plenty more meltdowns in the future and days when I’ll just want to quit altogether.  I’m under no illusion that things get easier, but maybe they do get better.