Oh God what have I done? It’s a question I ask myself daily now that I’m a mum to twins. It comes to me when I’m trying to get them to sleep. It pops into my head when I’m feeding them in the small hours. It hits me when I’m comforting them over my shoulder, bouncing and swaying too and fro like a woman possessed. I ask myself every time I change a nappy or wipe sick from my clothes. Every time I look down at my deformed belly button and crinkly mum tum or attach my poor nipples to the expressing machine…I ask myself;
What have I done?
I’m exhausted, I’ve got no time for myself or my relationship and my whole sense of self has been turned upside down. The things I used to like to do like go to yoga and go to the gym just don’t feature on my radar anymore. I only seem to talk about babies and I’m living through ground hog day where the feed, change, play, sleep routine goes on and on. And yet I don’t really mind any of that. The thing that gets me, the thing I find hardest, is the L word.
I didn’t expect it to be the hardest part, but it really is. Way more than the sleeplessness, the stress, the crying or worrying.
I’ve created two little people that I love more than anything on this earth. I’ve given life to two little treasures that will never realise just how much I love them, until they have their own children, and maybe not even then.
I’ve burdened myself forever with the kind of love that has to be experienced to be believed.
Having a baby (or babies) opens up your heart wider than you realised it could stretch. It demands your full attention and puts you through every emotion and it’s so all consuming that nothing can prepare you for it.
From now on I’m a slave to the love that I have for my children. It’s all powerful and dictates every decision.
I have so much respect for all other mothers, especially those who have children older than mine, because every day, the love gets deeper and stronger, and those mothers have already had to live through a thousand little letting go moments.
From putting them from their moses baskets to a cot, to letting them go from breast to bottle, to letting them go to nursery for an hour or two without you, to letting them go to school, to letting them leave home or travel the world… Putting your faith in your child and in life that everything is going to be ok.
It’s the hardest part of parenting.
The sleepless nights end, the tantrums end, everything else finishes one day, but the love goes on forever.
They’ve only just arrived in the world and I have to let them go little by little, when all I want to do is draw them closer, hold them tighter, keep them smaller and younger. They’ll grow to need me less and less while I’ll grow to need them more and more.
How could I do this to myself? If only I’d known. If only I’d truly realised what I was letting myself in for.
The suffocating, life enhancing, all consuming, heartwrenching love that I would feel a thousand times a day…it’s too much. It’s the hardest part of becoming a mum, but it’s also the very best.