New regime, mornings at 5,... and a lot of self-pity

Before I begin, I need to say something important to start with.

I am perfectly aware that by writing this post, most of the moms who will end up reading it, will either:


A) get angry / get all judgemental / not understand how on earth can a mother feel this way and probably put me on some kind of personal black list (with which I don't even want to know what they would do about :D)


or


B) feel relieved / feel connected / feel understood and accepted for feeling the very same or similar way and they won't feel alone in this mess that motherhood sometimes is.


Whichever group you choose to belong, whether A or B is totally up to you, I am fine with either (as long as you don't know where I live :D).


So, Mikey was born. We already know that. But what is absolutely necessary to note is the fact that he was born to parents who were NOT EVEN REMOTELY READY to become parents yet. I get it, nobody is 100% prepared ever. Although, it makes it a complete game changer when two people make a conscious consensual decision to conceive a kid. You see, back in 2015, all me and Steve were ready for was a trip to African Malawi, diving in a local lake, watching crocs and hitting our chests shouting "oonga-oonga" while drinking a coconut milk. Seriously, that was our plan. Having a baby was as realistic for us as a Pluto expedition.


This fact, that we hadn't even spoken about a baby and yet this small person "made his way" to become our kid, changed everything.


That said, with the birth of our son Michael, there was yet another person that came into existence that very same night he was born.... His totally whiiiiny and whimpering MOTHER. (a.k.a. ME!)



Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking back then, if it was going to be easy or what. Looking back now, I did not think anything. But my lamenting was endless! I swear to my last pair of underwear. I was being a bigger baby than Mikey. I am that type of a person who considers SLEEP a sacred thing! And this completely obvious and essential thing turned into a luxury overnight. Veronika couldn't / wouldn't / fought to accept it. I don't know about other moms but I ain't any Wonderwoman. Giving birth meant pushing almost 4kg melon through a keyhole as well as pushing every last kilojoule of energy that was left in my body to survive. I swear I never wanted to wake up afterwards. I thought THIS IS IT. My eternity has become! I was welcoming the white light when the nurse walked in handing over my son to me for an immediate care and bonding. Yeah,... like I was going to do that! With a blink of an eye, I explained to the nurse that I went through a living hell and this baby "thingy" has to wait cos I am about to have a looooong ass nap!

Apropo, this popular bonding thing - never happened. What can be slightly justifying is that I did not even know what bonding between mom and child was back then :D. No idea.

I managed to give Mikey away to nursery care for 2 nights but with the third night coming, I was explicitly told that I can no longer withdraw from my role and that the baby is sleeping with us. I am saying "us" because Steve insisted on having a VIP room, where he could also be with us nonstop and spend our first precious family moments together. Family moments my ass! When I had to shush him like a millionth time to stop snoring cos he was waking the baby up, he scolded me with "what should one do here to get a proper sleep!". I was soooo in love with him that moment, you can imagine!

To sum up, we were ready for our first baby as much as Poland was ready for Hitler's attack in 1939...


5 days in hospital appeared like 5 lifetimes to me. I could not imagine the day when we would have to take our child to home care, a place with no doctors or lactation nurses at hand. I saw things quite dark and demonic back then, painting pictures in my head of me having to wake up quadrillion times a night for the upcoming 18 years, getting my nipples chewed until they vanish bleeding, and many other nice things that were causing a panic rush in my head.


To makes things look even "prettier" back then, you must know that a week after Mikey's birth, my husband had to go back to Abu Dhabi (UAE), where we normally lived back in 2015. Since he was still employed there, he had to go back. See, I decided to give birth in my home country - Slovakia. Simple reason - I WAS SOOOO SCAAAARED and wanted to have my own mommy by my side, which meant that my husband missed on the first 4 months of diaper changing, nursing, waking up at night or waking up at 5 am, which I hated even more than walking the baby in a stroller for hours outside in the winter cold. (OK, a big FAT LIE, I hated the stroller walks in any season or weather, cos it's boooooriiiiiing).

The worst time came when Steve was about to leave to UAE. Because that's when my postnatal hormones kicked in. I think I left claw marks on the car he was driving to the airport.


If Mother Theresa was really such a people lover and had she ever reincarnated, she must have turned into my Mom. This poor woman (not Mother Theresa, my mother) put up with soooo much! An ever-complaining, whining own daughter with luckily not-so-much whining little baby. She was always there, every day for 4 months. So was my poor Dad. Every weekend they took my son into their bed so that I can sleep and every little free time they had they went for a walk with him. These people are saint! I want to publicly thank them for they must love me to the moon and back! I don't know who was a bigger child, me or my son (=> ME! Of course me!)


Safe to say now - parenting was NOT MY THING. But here's the trick - you can't take it back. There is a reason I called my website "mAmateur", because I was an amateur in every sense of the word. Self-pity used to be my favorite activity no.1 at 5 in the morning, right after I changed my son's incredibly messy diaper (at this point please refer to section "ONLY IF YOU DARE" on my website, if you dare...). Denying the reality I was living, having to sacrifice my sleep and body, my entire life surrendering to this tiny little person was the most difficult thing I had to deal with.


Selfish? Oh yes!

Immature? Absolutely!

Guilty? NO.


It is important to forgive oneself. I am not sure how Mikey was / will ever be affected by my behaviour back then, I was not there for him other than helping him survive physically. All I can say I did my very best back then. I love him and always loved him very much and this love has been growing on me year by year.


Whether you belong to group A) or group B) from my opening above, I appreciate you read this article of a deep self reflection of one deeply reflecting mom.

And just because me and my husband are so stupid and probably love self torture a little, we made another child when Mikey was 10 months old. (WHAT - WERE - WE - THINKING?!!?!)


But that's another story for another time :-).



PS: Here's a proof that Mikey really had a BLAST with me :D.






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