The day I found out I was pregnant will be forever etched into my mind. It was the start of December, incredibly warm and I was getting ready to visit my GP. I was sure the back aches and exhaustion I was feeling were pregnancy but five days in a row of pregnancy tests disagreed. Our spare room housed a very treasured elderly family member who was suddenly unwell and staying with us and I was about to check if she was awake.
’One last test before the doctor’ I thought, to be sure.
It was positive.
Extreme morning (all day! Why do they call it that?) sickness followed for the next 20 weeks. Daily hypnobirthing practise, consults with my beautiful OB who I worked so closely with to ensure the best chance of the birth I wanted (‘as natural as possible, but keep us safe, I trust you’). I went into labour two days before my due date and was so excited – I was never scared of birth, only ever excited. The timing was perfect and everything was lined up. I could not have done more.
4 days before going into labour (I was as tired as I look!)
I spent 24 hours at home after that first contraction before going into hospital. They were every 10 minutes for 8 hours, then turned to every 6-7 minutes.
I got to hospital and it was definitely labour. I was well on my way and would be meeting my baby today. The best news.
Seven hours later my OB came back and nothing had changed. What I now know was an undetected heart-shaped uterus was stopping little A from being able to get into the right position. We made the decision that I needed a c-section and the unraveling of everything I’d planned and visualised for the last nine months hit me like nothing before. I was distraught.
He was about an hour old here and I’d just come out of recovery.
I had no idea at the time just how much those moments were going to affect me. They affected my first few months with my newborn significantly – I struggled, a lot, and although I don’t feel ready (and may never be) to go into detail about how, I just want to say it was so, so hard, because at the time I felt like the only person on earth that was struggling as much as I did.
I wasn’t, and if you’re reading this relating, you’re not.
If I’m truthful I’m still processing what happened that day, but on a much larger scale. That experience bought to light the rigid way I’ve led my life, particularly since recovering from chronic illness in my early 20s. I used to plan everything to a level people used to laugh at me for (but at the time I really deep in my soul thought they would be able to get more done if they just organised their whole day in 15 minute increments in their calendar from waking until sleeping, too). And at the time I’d also much rather have made no plans than make plans that might change (can you imagine how that went for a new Mum with a baby? Hah!).
He would only nap on me for 6 months. He rarely does it now but when he does it’s THE BEST. I miss this.
I lived my whole life extremely calculated. I knew exactly when I’d work out and what I’d do. I knew at every time of day exactly what I’d be doing – even if I scheduled down time, I’d schedule the way in which I’d spend it (‘Magazine reading and a cup of green tea’, says the outlook calendar. ‘Ends in 15 minutes’).
The Instagram feed you saw was planned a month in advance, and so were the six clients I managed Instagram for. I’d work and work and work and work and be SO exhausted but still get into the garage or gym for a two hour work out. I had no regard whatsoever for how I felt on any given day and treated myself like a robot – if I just did all the right things, programmed myself the right way, prepared myself the ‘right’ way, then there was no excuse to not perform the function I’d planned.
I really felt this was a productive, normal way to live.
Enter baby.
You can’t do this. You can try, and you can definitely find ways to continue work and hobbies, of course. But I definitely could not be this rigid anymore.
So, after months of trying to work out the same way I used to (on sometimes an hour of sleep, three on a good night). Months of trying to get my perfect little baby to sleep like the books/internet/friends said he should (‘Why are you awake so long?’). A year, really, of fighting against EVERYTHING while I tried to get back to exactly-what-I-used-to-be-like, I finally got the chance to come back to work only to realise I didn’t even like working the way I used to. I took on a job my heart told me was too big and not what I wanted, because ‘This is what I used to do and I should be so grateful to even have the opportunity’. I couldn’t finish the job.
I slowly started to wonder if there was a lesson there. I mean, I respond to my son’s every need. If he’s not tired, he doesn’t sleep. If he doesn’t want to be cuddled, I don’t force him. If he’s feeling emotional I sit with him, comfort him and try to understand why he feels that way. I don’t force him to get up, get on with it and forget about it.
I started to realise I should be doing this for myself. I should be doing what feels right and need to realise what feels right can change from day to day, and that’s OK.
So here I am, no logo, no new web site, no fancy ‘I’m back!’ launch, because today I want to get back to work. I want to be creative again. Even if, technically, nothing is ready.
I have two days a week I can work and I’m just doing what feels right to me. Being here, writing, writing this, taking the photos I’ll share going forward, is really me learning about who I am now. I know it’s not true for every new parent, but I definitely changed significantly with the birth of my son. I think I’m learning that it’s been for the better.
For the first time ever I don’t know what work and creative life will be like for me. I have no real plans, no goals, and have given myself full permission to not work on my work days if I feel what I need more than work, is rest. It feels great.
I hope you’ll come along for the journey.
Nat x
(I just want to note how grateful I am for two things – firstly the incredibly privileged position I’m in to not have to work like I used to, and secondly, despite my struggles, the healthy birth of my beautiful son. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t realise how incredibly lucky I am).