This year we’re celebrating Christmas the 4 of us: me and F, Madde and Sam. ❤ I’m trying to find the Christmas tree foot stored somewhere in the attic, ’cause, guess what: We’re getting a tree! I’m so excited I could jump for joy, had I not been so sleep deprived that.. But that’s another story.
Since we moved into a new apartment in February, we’ve been negotiating a new style together- I have things to fill a whole house, but it’s stuff I bought on my own or in “my previous life”, so we’re trying to find something that both can live with. 😉 Which is why we’re not gifting each other anything this Christmas, instead we’re getting this lovely lamp from &tradition. It’s called Copenhagen, one of my favorite cities. We wanted to make sure it would come on time for the holidays and because I dared to ask, we were able to buy the one on exhibited in the store with a big discount. Yay!
My George Nelson bubble lamp is not double insulated and so we have to find another pendant for our living room table. And who would have thought it would be such a hard task? I’d been looking at Louis Poulsens PH lamp, but it has the same shortcoming, so we’ll have to search some more. Do you have any advice?
I had to get a new Mac since my old one ended on the floor with a cup of coffee aboard and I need to buy an Apple Card for my memory card, or else I can’t seem to transfer pictures from my camera. And you know me, these things take a lifetime to get sorted, which is why I only have pictures from my mobile. But I’ll leave you a cute picture of my two babies who seem to make friends with each day that passes.
I hope you have a lovely holiday and drop me a line if you feel like it.
Our little baby has grown up and what do you know, yesterday she turned 7 months. For each day that goes by, she’s cuter, funnier and more agile. She’s been crawling for a couple of weeks, feeble attempts here and there, but today was the day she chose to race towards my purse in no time. You should have seen her, so purposeful, so self-assured. This little missy has a mind of her own and I love that about her.
For many months now I couldn’t wait to go back to work. I found maternity leave rather boring, child rearing pretty exhausting, I struggled to find room for myself in this new role, I so wanted to be more than just a mom. Amidst this quest for validation, sleep deprived and on the verge of depression, I forgot I love this baby more than I love myself. And now that I’m starting work in less than a week, I’m kind of sad. Not that I suddenly started loving the endless weeks filled with coffee dates (if the weather allows it), trying to time everything so that she sleeps when she’s tired, walking the pram without entering any place so as not to wake her up, having her food ready the second she’s hungry, and so on. But I’ll miss her warm body onto mine on the couch, every time I pick her up from her bed after a nap, messy hair and flushed cheeks, her tiny hands looking for my moles to pick on. I’ll miss going to the coffee shop and seeing her stretch after my muffin, walking home and singing along with her, telling her daddy is on his way home while washing her cheeks after porridge. I sound like I’m leaving her for good- haha. You see, I had an epiphany yesterday- having turned 40 three weeks ago, I got a gift card for massage from a friend of mine and she offered to mind Madde for an hour, too. Easier said than done, you have to find a day that suits both of us, meet at a slightly precise time, feed the baby before and leave the baby with the friend. It’s strange that I have sometimes felt the urge to be on my own so bad I’ve gone to the toilet and locked the door (when daddy’s home to sit the baby), but when I had to part with her for an hour, I felt my heart cringe.
I enter the premises. No baby, no babbling, just silence. I take off my shoes and find a couch to sit on. Such bliss. Or is it? I wonder if the baby’s fine. The masseuse shows me in to a candle lit room, some background music on, she’s soft spoken when she tells me to remove everything except for my knickers. I’ve done this so many times, my muscular pain has forced me to take so many massage sessions it’s effaced all my natural prudishness. I climb on the heated bed and under a crisp sheet. I place my head on the pillow and try to decide if I should fall asleep or not. At this point there is no baby, just me. The masseuse is a professional, her touch is divine. I want to fall asleep, but the rubbing is so good I almost feel like crying. I’m also counting minutes. Do I still have 20 or 30 minutes? If I fall asleep right now, it would still count for something. Ten minutes before the session ends and I hear a baby crying. Is it Madde? My mother brain plays tricks on me.
I stretch my bones, I rub the oil into the skin, wash my hands and get a glass of water to drink. Then I go outside and look for the baby. Turns out she’d been crying a little, but now she’s asleep. We find a place and order some pasta and a beer to celebrate. Madde wakes up and the first thing she sees is me. I’m so happy to be reunited I feel like shedding a tear or two. She wants to eat my pasta, I give her small bites to try. This must be how it is for many of us, overwhelming, yet we couldn’t be without them. The tyrants. The babies. The love of our lives.
There were so many things I had no idea about when it comes to babies and motherhood, I thought maybe there’s somebody else out there like me! 😉 So I figured I should share some inside information with you.
Before doing that, I have to admit that sure, I have seen the occasional anecdotic sequence of pictures depicting how life is over (and in so many ways!) when you have a child, but it’s not that bad (at least for us it isn’t) and so I don’t find it representative. Nobody tells you this other stuff, though.
Whereas some women put on a considerable amount of weight during the pregnancy and lose most of it afterwards, others (like me) gain little weight before they give birth, but compensate afterwards. Yesterday I was swinging my bottom in the mirror while saying “Repeat after me: Big is beautiful!”
The mothers jogging with a pram, it’s a myth. I see them everywhere, but I know literally nobody who has the energy for that. So they must be visiting from another planet.
I used to think babies had to be fed, changed, bathed, cuddled with, put to bed. Wrong. Most of the time will be spent trying to guess what the baby wants. The baby is tired, but also hungry and the baby can’t fall asleep because she’s too hungry and won’t eat because she’s too tired. I have no idea how many swear words I invented trying to figure out how this baby thing works. But, as a friend of mine put it, the interior monologue doesn’t count as long as you’re sweet to the baby. Phew!
You spend 40 years yearning for a baby just to get a baby and spend most of our waking hours hoping that she’ll go to sleep.
There is no better smell than a baby. No cheeks more kissable, no toothless mouth more beautiful when it breaks into a smile.
You’ve never known love until a cutie pie comes into your bed in the morning and pulls your nose, your hair and everything else she can grab.
You spend all your time wishing for a break and when she sleeps you start missing her. If she sleeps longer than usual, you’re so happy you’d do a little dance, but also a bit worried, because she might not be waking up any more… Sometimes you can’t stop yourself from checking up on her and end up waking her up and she’ll be cranky and you’ll be mumbling “I’m such a moron!” for the rest of the day. Other times you’ll take a shower, put on some lotion (now that’s what I call a luxury!) and then settle under the blanket with your beloved Mac and a cup of coffee. Next thing you know, the cup is slipping from your hands, coffee is spilling on the Mac and both of them end up on the floor. Hello poverty!
At some point during this journey you realize your parents were people like you and just like you, they probably did their best and you still think it wasn’t enough. And you see yourself dining with your grown-up daughter in 20 years’ time and toasting for better days when she brings up this and that that hurt her, the way you used to do to your parents when you’ve had one too many.
That waking up in the middle of the night for countless times and many months in a row still enables you (somehow) to care for a baby throughout the day.
That it’s getting better by the day, for the ones of you who felt maternity leave was one desert of time and no validation, just know that for each day you’re closer to going back to work, your baby is getting bigger and sweeter and almost (just almost) makes you wish you were a stay home mom. (Just not really) 😉
In the morning we cuddle, I put her tiny body onto mine and she starts pulling my face with her little hands, shrieking with excitement. The sun is dripping in through the tomato plants in the kitchen window, its long arms reaching the couch. My feet are cold and so are her hands, there’s fall in the air.
When she’s sleeping (finally she accepted the pacifier), all I want to do is read. Or write. Throughout the day my head is full of stories, but when faced with a white page, my brain is blank. The screen is staring back at me.
“Why do you keep posting all these details on motherhood on fb? Do you really think people care?” To tell you the truth, the response is secondary. I mean sure, it’s nice if people can relate, not so nice when others write things belonging to a totally different era and you can sense the scorn of others again, for why did she have to wait until 40s to have a baby, “other people have 20 years old children already”, as someone told my mom.
But with all the risks of oversharing, writing is cathartic for me, it’s always been like that. And the funny little stories are a coping mechanism with days that are pretty much alike, too little sleep and the realization that, as much as I’ve always wanted a child, this child is here to stay. I mean forever. Good God in heaven! (Don’t get me wrong, I feel blessed every single day!) I remember this feeling when I got a cat- they live for 10-12 years?! And then another and then Sam- what, will I always be a dog-owner, for as long as he lives? I would think it’s the responsibility of it that sometimes feels overwhelming, nothing else.
Contrary to many of my friends’ experience, I managed to read quite a lot of books during my maternity leave. Mostly because she sleeps so lightly and I don’t want to wake her up. But also since I need some me-time and folding bed linen can be done when she’s playing next to me. 😉 And reading is supposed to lead to writing… haha!
I only have 4 weeks left, before daddy takes over. And then 6 more weeks from February. I can’t wait to talk about other things than the baby. To be able to get a massage or go to the hairdresser without needing a baby sitter (not that I have had a baby-sitter!) To the string of Sundays that my freelance life combined with paternity leave I’m hoping will feel like.
Until then, I have to go to the veterinary with Madde in a pram and Sam in a leash. I’ve been dreading it since last week. Wish me luck!
So I got a call from a friend just after I wrote the last entry and she told me she’d laughed so hard and asked me if I’d had Madde all over again had I known it was this hard- or maybe I interpreted her question that way, since I’m even more easily offended these days than usual- haha. And so I thought I should clear up any misunderstandings by writing a bit more about the good stuff this time.
First, I just needed to get the other things off my chest. The things you never talk about, the difficult and embarrassing feelings, the shame, the guilt. I hate pretending and smoothing things over, although I’m a badass at that, too, people with my background tend to be. (Eastern Europeans who grew up with their grandma and spent their whole life begging for other people to love them.)
But now that I did all that, I’ll tell you more about the amazing feeling it is to be a mom. Because even if it never stops, even though she’s in bed and you still think you can hear her cry, even though you go to her room to check up on her and end up waking her up and restarting the whole shebang of her trying to lull herself to sleep, even when you’re so tired you hang up half of the laundry just to discover the other half still wet on the table the day after, motherhood is the best feeling ever! Nothing can even come close to having borne a human being inside you (even though I hated being pregnant most of the time and I’d never do it again!), pressed her out of you (the most painful thing there ever was, even with an epidural!), held her in your arms, fed her, soothed her, stroked her skin, smelled her breath.
At night, she wakes up shivering from hunger and she eats with her eyes closed, while we kiss her cheek or stroke her hair. When she had fever from the vaccine, she would cling to us like a bird with a broken wing, save me, do something, make me better. (That’s when the picture is from, she’d been crying for 4 hours straight.) I’ve never had that before. I mean sure, I’ve had pets as long as I can remember and I’ve loved them to death, but it’s not the same. I used to get upset when people said you can’t compare a dog with a child, but it’s true. Sure, you can love the dog to the moon and back (and I do!), buy him all the fancy toys and the best beef jerky and check on him at night to see if he’s still breathing, hold him in your arms when the fireworks or storms are raging outside, but it’s still not the same as having your own baby. Or anyone’s baby, for that matter. (For many years I considered both adoption or foster parenting, but I’m glad I didn’t have to go through all that paper hell, in the end. Plus it’s so much fun to see yourself or your partner in the baby, I have to admit that!)
In the morning, she wakes up happy and wants to play. You could say it’s her job. It’s so funny to see how dedicated she is to discovering the world! Back and forth, from one toy to another, touching, tasting everything, turning around to see what I’m doing- usually I’m boiling feeding bottles, making milk or brewing coffee- haha.
During the day we play, we go out for walks with the pram, we meet friends, sometimes we visit dad at the office, we sit in the shade and clap our hands, we read books with furry animals you can touch. And we play music, all kinds of baby music- from Brahms to silly tunes I never saw myself listening to, let alone humming! 😉 haha!
When she sleeps, I usually research things she needs and order them online or agree to meet with people selling used baby stuff. A baby has all sorts of expensive needs (haha) and the maternity leave payment is around half the money I used to make before. No, not complaining, just doing my best to keep everybody happy, including mommy. ‘Cause mommy loves shopping and in 5 months she’s just been on one “shopping spree”, at Fretex (Salvation Army Shop)! haha! Don’t let yourself be fooled, I chose silk and designer wear there, too! haha! They have pretty amazing stuff if you’re in the mood for searching, which I can be once in a blue moon, if money is tight. 😉
This corona shit messed up our plans of going to Romania and France to show Madeleine to our families. It’s been lonely to raise a child alone, without anybody offering to even take her out for a stroll. Friends tell me the culture is different here, that people are afraid to offer, they’re afraid they might be imposing, that I should be the one asking for help. But I’m different, too, not only culturally different, but on account of my being so messed up, I’d rather cut people off than ask them for a favor, because the fear of being rejected is greater than anything else. And then there’s my pride. I’d rather die than admit to needing help. 😦
My mother was supposed to come for a month and help us out a bit, like minding the baby a couple of hours here and there, but she tripped on a stool and fell and she’s been recovering slowly for the past week. I really hope she didn’t break anything, they’ve been reticent to go to the doctor’s on account of Covid, but she’s having a scan on Monday. So what can I say, not only I don’t have a lot to look forward to in terms of baby sitting, but I worry about her, too. 😦
But I’m sure it’ll get easier. I’ve just bought baby oat meal and she seemed to like it. This might mean she’s going to be fuller and sleep better at night and God knows that would come in handy. Until then, I’m off to play with her on the mat. She seems to be getting bored of entertaining herself.
So what can I say, besides long time, no see, because time has become a precious commodity and my thoughts feel scattered all over the place, irrelevant or just boring. Most of the time I worry about Madeleine’s sleeping pattern, get annoyed at the fact that she’s discovering her voice-with sheer shrieking all day as a result- and wonder if I’ll ever get the feeling of being myself back. But today we’re celebrating the nothing-less-of-a-miracle called Madde and I’ll be rewarding myself with the long overdue personal space by going out for drinks with a couple of girl friends. (Bring it on, bitches!)
I’ve been meaning to write a stripped down honest review of motherhood for so long, I don’t even know where to start. For 5 months now I’ve been deliriously happy, tired as f*, angry as never before, irrational, apprehensive, anxiety-ridden, disengaged in the world and hateful- towards corona, people who don’t give a damn about my pram, scooters and men, in general.
I’ll start with my body. Good old body that has served me for 40 years and used to do a pretty good job. Suddenly it didn’t feel like mine any more. For the longest time, it was like living in a nightmare. Although I’d only gained 8-9 kg during pregnancy, which I lost right away, the irregular meals and the corona baking transformed my belly into a snail-looking flab. I was so disgusted every time I took a shower, I started eating cottage cheese for breakfast and cutting down on the 10 pm ice-cream bowl. Slowly (and painfully haha), I’m starting to resemble myself again. A pale version of myself, but still.
Then you have the boobs! First, you can’t believe your luck, when the milk is filling them, you look like Pamela Anderson before she removed her silicon. Then, after only one week of trying to breastfeed, they started looking like empty shells. Not to mention they were constantly leaking and they hurt so bad I felt like cutting them off altogether. The doctor didn’t give me medicine and so I had to tie them up with a scarf and I’d sleep like that for 2 weeks. I would stare at them in the mirror, sickened and feeling like covering them up. All of a sudden I was 17 again, powerless and shamed by my own body. Somehow, they seem to have mended themselves, too, in the course of these months. Phew! (I was seriously considering a lift.)
But the worst humiliation was peeing myself every time I sneezed (I still do!), laughed or even turned on the tap. A couple of times it was so bad F fetched a wet wipe and cleaned me up. One night I was walking Sam, I saw a rat and got so startled I peed my pants. Really peed, not just a little. I came home wet and shameful and hid in the bathroom until I convinced myself it’s not my fault.
And that’s just the body. The lack of sleep is an altogether new story. Simply excruciating. Although you somehow get by, not so much by getting used to it, but rather by knowing you don’t have a choice and that it’s not going to last forever, sleep deprivation makes you ruthless. I could scream to people all day long- bus drivers for not caring to lower the floor, so I can get on board with the pram, F for not choosing his words carefully, older ladies for telling me how much they enjoyed being at home with their babies and making me feel like a horrible person because I sometimes get bored. Because let’s face it- if you’ve been your own person for 40 years, are used to napping during day time just because you can, both your work and your social life are that of a busy bee, staying at home with a baby and tending to its needs all day long can be challenging. First, the change is pretty drastic: Madeleine’s first two months were those of a monkey baby, she only wanted to be on top of me. She slept on my chest and my belly, I carried her around in a baby wrap and the minute I put her down she’d wake up screaming. I could barely shower, I went to the loo with her in the baby wrap, I cooked with her sleeping in the baby wrap, I walked Sam with her in the baby wrap. At 6-7 pm I would wait for F to come back from work so eagerly that, when she didn’t want to be held by him, I’d burst into tears. On a couple of occasions, I threw myself on the floor and sobbed. He was so puzzled that instead of giving me a hug, he started poking me- hey, what’s up with the attitude?
At the other end of the scales, she’s the sweetest thing you’ll ever see. She gives purpose to our life and now we know what we’d be missing if we didn’t have her. She wakes up smiling and although it’s wayyyy too early (somewhere between 4 and 6!), she brightens up our day. When she takes my face in her tiny hands, my fear melts and so does my pain. I still can’t get over the fact that I’m somebody’s mom and that she needs me and loves me more than anyone else in the world. It’s such a blessing. And she’s such a happy baby. No colic, no colds, no fuss.
We’re reading books and we’re singing songs and all the things I thought would be boring, until it’s about her and it’s not boring anymore. Now she turns from her back to her stomach and back and she sometimes screams for help because she rolled on a toy or her own hand. So I sit myself on a sheep’s skin beside her mat and I tend to her needs from there.
As for the personal space, she goes to bed somewhere between 6 and 8pm. So until we fall asleep on the couch, there’s “plenty” of time to gather oneself. I usually don’t know what to do first- cook, eat, have a long shower, have a beer, water the plants, be. When we have Sam, I walk him and ring my mom. When we don’t, I read a couple of pages. Most days I want to do so much I end up “wasting my time texting”.
Almost 10:30 am, need to get ready to hit the city, otherwise we’ll drive each other nuts at home. You see, when I walk her in the pram, she sleeps most of the time! Win-win!
On account of this stupid virus and since Madde is so little, we decided not to go anywhere this summer. Instead, we’ve been waiting for the sun to come back and although the hot days of June seem to be gone for now, we’ve done our best with the Scandinavian temperatures of 18-21 degrees. We’ve been meeting friends for coffee or beer, roaming the woods with Sam and Madde (in a pram!) or cooking a better meal at home. And is there anything more summerly than a bottle of bubbles? Sometimes a label catches my eye and this is how we ended up with this cremant– it tasted like unripe apples and the sea. Continue reading →
Although she’s had ten days of growth spurt when she woke up every other hour at night for milk and the heat prevented her from sleeping well during the day to the point where I felt I had nothing more to give, I still have to pinch myself every time I see her face- I’m a mother! The thing that others take for granted has been such a lifelong dream for me and what do you know, I’ve got the “café baby” I’ve always wanted! At least for now. What I meant to say is that she’s usually in a good mood and puts up with all my socializing without complaints.