Three months of motherhood

Well, well, well. Back in July, I thought I’d never make it here. I still remember the days when crying and meltdowns were my daily ritual, and the longest stretch of sleep I ever got during the night was a measly 2.5 hours. In those days, it was hard to believe that life could ever get better. To my amazement, it has. Last night, in fact, the little bub broke his record and slept for 8.5 hours straight. Oh, sleep, how I adore you.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s still hard. Time does not fly by for me like it apparently does for many mums. Even now, I spend my days wishing my baby boy would grow up faster. Because as much as I love him—and I’m going to be shot for saying this—I do not enjoy being a mother. At least not right now.

Perhaps it’s also because the Covid has prevented my family from visiting, but my days with the little one have been dreadfully lonely.

This societal expectation that women should enjoy mothering is absurd. Before the baby, my life was filled with intellectually stimulating activities: lawyering, writing, coding. The most thinking I do these days is working out his wake windows and next feeding time.

I miss adult interactions. I miss going out for fancy dates and dinners. I miss holidays and staycations. I miss freedom. And unfortunately, these are now luxuries I can no longer have in the coming months. Or years, even. It also didn't help that all our plans of easing into parenthood (enjoying those nice cinema dates and a last babymoon holiday) during my third trimester went straight to the bin along with lockdowns.

I am honestly impressed by all the mothers who actually find their life with babies rewarding and fulfilling. Maybe I’ll get there someday as my baby grows?

And what about dads? Why aren’t they the ones that people expect to stay home, caring for the baby all day long and attending parenting groups? For now, I'm just glad that I'm not alone in the way I feel.

Despite sounding like a negative Nancy, I am still eternally grateful that I have a healthy, happy baby, and his feeding and sleeping have finally, sort of, fallen into a routine (here's to hoping I don't jinx myself). At long last, I feel like a semi-functioning human again. A human with too little 'me time', but I'll take what I can get. Fingers crossed, this continues. Toes crossed, the four-month sleep regression doesn't hit our household.

And I must hastily conclude this post, as that little guy has just woken from his nap earlier than I’d like! Hmph.

Month of firsts

I can’t believe I actually hit my Camp NaNoWriMo goal in July. Granted I had to cheat and adjust my initial 20,000-word editing goal down to 15,000, but that was fully justified, methinks, given that my little one arrived 8 days earlier than his due date. So yay! My first Camp NaNo participation and win, and with that,

As of yesterday, I have also survived my first month as a first-time mum. I wouldn’t have thought it possible back in the first week, but somehow, things feel even tougher now than they were weeks ago.

I guess back then, I had a little hope that there would be an end to all the cluster feeding, and that I could start seeing some longer stretches of night sleep. Indeed, I enjoyed 3-4 hour overnight stretches for a few days, and now it’s gone down to 2-hourly wakings like clockwork, and the baby is a little eating machine whose appetite is off the charts. *yawn*

The small achievement I will celebrate, however, is that I’ve now made it through the first day of the hubby returning to work after his month of paternity leave. Phew.

Really can’t wait until I start to enjoy a little more time to myself during the days though. When can I stop being a milk cow 24/7?