I am, in general, an optimistic soul.
I tend to see life as an upward curve, and difficulties as problems that have yet to be solved. My glass is not half-empty; it just has room for the aromas to circulate.
And yet, the first trimester of pregnancy floored me. Despite the fact that this was about as far from an accident as possible – we’d thought it through for thirteen years, for goodness’ sake – I was swamped by pessimism. Clearly, few people feel entirely jolly when they’re permanently exhausted and nauseous, and are additionally on high alert lest this turns into their third miscarriage. But there was something extra here, a dredging-up of fears and anxieties that I’d never been conscious of before.
Who the hell was I? Laying on the sofa for hours at a time, there was little else to do but inventorise my life. I was happy with everything, as long as it was a work in progress. My twenties had been devoted to laying foundations, learning to create a stable relationship, making a home, working out how to become a writer, finding work that interested me. I felt like I’d made a slow start, but had plenty to build on.
But there loomed the great unknown. What would a baby do to me? Sure, I understood that there would be huge changes - I wanted those changes. But would there be any room left for me as an adult, who needed to achieve things? How would I ever find a balance between the baby and my ambitions? In my imagination, motherhood became claustrophobic, lonely and desperate. I could only picture myself stuck at home, bored to tears and desperately conflicted. I hated myself for putting such a negative spin on such a wonderful event, but equally, I felt engulfed by a tide that I couldn’t push back. I was terrified.
After a few months, this tide washed away as suddenly as it had flooded in. I had come to terms with a few things. This is the biggest rite of passage you’ve ever been through, I told myself. It was comforting: I was enduring a test that millions of other women had endured before me. It was okay not to cope, to take my time in understanding it all.
I was haunted by the thought that I wasn’t enough of a grown-up yet, that I’d always imagined I’d do so much more before I became a parent. I thought I would have seen more of the world, had a stable career in place, become a bit more, well, interesting. I thought I’d be routinely invited to glamorous parties full of fascinating people, to which I could sneak out in a gorgeous, perfumed haze that my children would still recall with great awe in their later lives. I thought, frankly, that I’d be able to afford good childcare. But here I was, slightly skint, with a peeling bathroom ceiling and a blank space where my future should be.
But then I hit an idea: there was still time. In December, I got my energy back, and was overtaken by the urge to turn out every last cupboard and drawer. And I felt like I needed to sort out the less tangible things in my life too, the emotional cupboards and drawers in which I’d stowed things away for an unknown future date when I’d know what to do with them.
Barring the vomity bits, the forty weeks of pregnancy can be seen as time to prepare, with a clear deadline at the end of it – hopefully. I decided to make a list of all the things I want to do before the baby comes – a kind of gestational ‘bucket list’, if you will – and work my way through them over the next few months. Some of them are about taking stock of life, some are just plain fun, and some of them are loving goodbyes to the things I’ll miss, even if only for a short while.
Tomorrow I’ll be sharing my list; but in the meantime, tell me yours. If you’ve already got children, what are the things you did, or wish you’d done, before the birth? If you’re planning children in the future, what would you like to achieve before that happens? And if you never want to have children, what are the things that you think you’d lose?
I don’t have kids and I don’t want them.
But I wrote a novel last year and that was a massive thing on my ‘List’.
Writing my first novel felt like the most massive liberation to me – even though it wasn’t any good, I needed to know it was possible. And, of course, once you’ve written one, it’s so much easier to write more. This sounds dramatic, but I felt less scared of dying young once that one was under my belt.
Time for a hen and stage weekend. FAR more relevant than before marriage imo.
Get all the DIY done now, by the time you have time/ energy again they’ll be sticky fingers in the paint, and stealing the tools…
Ha! Just got told off by my midwife for tiling the fireplace this week! You would not believe the amount of DIY I’m making H do. Would love to do it myself, obvs…
This blog is way more productive than decorating the nursery! I missed and still miss dancing – much more than I miss drinking, though they do often go hand in hand. First trimester you feel too sick and any time after 6 months, it just becomes impossible to bend in the middle, thereby limiting your dance options to YMCA.
I definately recommend a baby shower, or something, before the birth. I enjoyed having one last party that was all about me, me,me, me. We did guess the price of the baby kit, test your memory with a tray full of nappy paraphenalia and timed hang out the washing. Could have done without the pressies, but it felt like a lovely rite of passage to celebrate and laugh with other mums in the face of the horrors to come.
On a serious note – I do wish I had taken more time to do stuff for me. I spent my twenties mothering my partner and now in my thirties I’m mothering my children. I’m looking forward to my forties when it might be time to mother myself a bit, and enjoy it. Some things you don’t really appreciate til you can’t do them though and that will make them all the sweeter when I get there.
First on the list for me of course will be sleep………
Can’t wait to read more of The Final Push
Amy, when you’re 40 you’re going to become a wild, crazy lady and start climbing mountains in your bra or something. And I’ll be waiting at the bottom, pouring a cocktail! xx
Hi,
I have three small children. it’s all very well to say “take time for yourself” before the birth…. but it’s AFTER that you will really need it and appreciate it ;-)
I’d say, go with the flow: the first months (3, 6, 9, how many you need is personal) you’ll be totally absorbed by the little one, but then, slowly, do accept help, do get a babysitter even if you just want a walk around the block ALONE, do enoy a pampering session in a SPA. If anything, I would say put some money aside now, money that you will spend for yourself afterwards in whichever way makes you feel better!
And of course the same goes for you as a couple: now that the youngest is two, we have a regular babysitter once a fortnight, and we go out for dinner, to the cinema… Nothing mind-blowing, but it gets you out, and out together ;-)
That’s great advice Paola, thanks. Sounds like you do a great job of finding a balance.
What a lovely post! Like you, I haven’t even vaguely achieved the things I’d hoped before having children. It’s frustrating, but I look on the bright side- at least I’m not giving up some amazingly glamourous lifestyle. I only had one item on my pregnancy bucket list and that was to have one last holiday, just my partner and me. We only went as far as North Wales but it was magical. I was 6 months pregnant so past all the nausea and firmly in the glowing stage, full of anticipation. We went for walks, read books, went to museums not suitable for small children and just enjoyed the peace and quiet. I think it’s probably the best holiday I’ve ever had (and I’ve been to Hawaii!).
That’s such a lovely thing to do! We’re off to Tromso next week for a final fling, watching the Northern Lights and staying out in unsuitable weather. Can’t wait!
I like the idea of a baby shower being the last thing that’s about ‘me, me, me’ but I don’t see the appeal in all of that guess the weight of the poo-ey nappy stuff and timed hanging out of washing (!!!!).
I think it’s probably nice to get prezzies (and I’m sure friends will want to give you some) but I would make it a grown-up girls lunch or tea and cakes or something. You will have nappies and washing coming out of your ears soon enough. x
I love paola’s comment about making time away to spend as a couple, it is so easy (and very unexpected!) for one’s life to become completely focussed on the baby and to forget that he/she isn’t the only important person around.
I second that! It’s amazing that it’s almost become politically incorrect to say so – I wonder if we don’t see our adult relationships as a bit disposable once children come along?
I’m less than 4 weeks away from my due date with baby no3, so mostly my list consists of ‘drag yourself through the next 4 weeks somehow, making sure you don’t forget any drop offs/pick ups/ballet lessons along the way’. I’m not planning any great adventures, as I’m knackered at the moment and not really in the mood to appreciate them (although I did get to the World Cup 2006 in Germany in my 3rd tri with #1, and indeed a 2 week tour of South Island, NZ at 32 weeks with #2, I’ve earned my rest this time!). I’m mostly trying my hardest to treasure this time when I have mostly 2 hands at my disposal (knitting) and only two children to worry about, enjoying the silence when they’re both at school/preschool and making sure I’m documenting this last pregnancy photographically. It would also be nice to fit in a little more sex with my husband, as I know that gets WAY more difficult for quite a long time post birth.
Wow, South Island at 32 weeks? My hat it truly off to you! *jealous*