Often the reality of what becoming a first time mum looks like varies drastically from the image we had in our heads.
I like to call this First Time-Mum Delusion.
5 Things Pregnant Women Romanticise Versus the Reality of Motherhood
1. Baby Massage: Images of your future little baby's gurgling and smiling face dance in your head, and you romanticise about all the time you'll spend massaging your baby's chubby little limbs. You'll rub your pregnant belly and think about how bonded you'll become in those delightful moments. They'll coo and giggle as you rub their tummy, and curl their toes and smile when you gently caress their feet.
Reality: You finish breast feeding then pumping, and pop another pill for your mastitis. Dinner was half-hazardly cooked and you hope your husband won't notice you ran out of capsicum pepper for the fajitas (a main ingredient that you substituted with green beans, but who cares). You fill baby's bath, and check the temperature 3 times to make sure it's not too hot. Checking once would have been enough but you're too f*cking tired to remember if you already checked the temperature already so you do it again. And again. You get the baby in there. Things are going smoothly until baby poops in the tub. You can't think straight, remember? So you end up grabbing for the poo with one hand and picking up the baby with the other. Realising you have a hand full of poo you turn to the toilet as quick as you can, because you now know what it's like to try and push poo through the drain of the bath tub from that last time this happened. You do a one hand wash, then grab the shower head and check the temperature of the water. You hose your baby off. You finally get to the change table, and baby pees all over the change table cover you just washed the day before. Baby in one arm and baby wipes in the other, you scramble to clean the change table before you clean the baby. Ahhhh. Finally time for baby massage. You start by grabbing your organic, fair trade lavender-jojoba baby massage oil (that cost $1 a drop), only to have your baby kick it out of your hands and all over the dresser. You scoop as much as you can back into the bottle and try not to be sweary. You promise yourself you will try again tomorrow, only to discover they hate being rubbed. The gig is up. They beg you to stop the massage by screaming until you give in and give them what they really want. More bitty.
2. Baby Sign Language: You imagined teaching your future child the signs for apple, water, milk, or tired, because you've already watched the Baby Signs Program. You'd imagined having a dialogue with them before they even knew their first word. You'd understand them, and anticipate their needs. No tantrums or tears of frustration for miscommunication. You'd show off how clever you both were for mastering the secret baby sign language in front of your friends, who struggled to get it together with their babies.
Reality: You're the friend who's trying to "get-it-together." You didn't sleep for more than 2 hour blocks last night. You went to the toilet with your baby on your lap. You haven't brushed your teeth in 16 hours. You thought you'd be back at the gym by now but you're still healing down there, and the thought of having enough energy to walk further than the petrol station for milk and bread weakens you further. You watch other women run past your house in lycra and jogging strollers and wonder when the stinging will stop every time you pee. Or when you'll be able to wear lycra again without having to wear the big, fat maternity mattress pad between your legs. Things won't always be this hard, you think. True. Soon enough you heal. Months have passed, you thought your baby would be sleeping through the night by now. Nope. You remember how you wanted to teach them to baby sign but right now all you can muster is the middle finger. Which you give to anyone who gets in your way on the road, (because you've only got 20 minutes to get the shopping done before nap time).
Reality: You manage to get in the car with out forgetting a single thing; nappies, change mat, wipes, spare change of clothes for both of you, towels, snacks, bottle, wallet with change for parking, makeup remover (because you stupidly put on mascara trying to feel and look more awake this morning), travel mug of coffee, phone. Oh yeah, and your baby. You get to the pool after circling for 5 minutes to find a parking spot. You find a safe place to lay your baby down in the change room (what does that even mean)? The wet shower cubicle covered in hair (from where)? You feel too huge to fit your swimsuit, even though everyone told you breastfeeding would get rid of the baby weight. Dirty liars! You try with the might of a thousand Samson's to pull it past your thighs. Success. You add that to your list of little wins for the day. But then you notice you forgot to shave your lady bits and your arm pits. Panic is followed by surrender because it's too late to turn back now. You stare forlornly at your boring, unpainted toenails as you try to remember the last time was you booked a wax. You try as elegantly as possible to get in the pool without drawing attention to your hairy bits, and all is going well until your baby chokes on some water and starts inconsolably crying.
4. Reading: You've watched all the YouTube videos of baby's reciting poetry or reading young. You just know that's going to be your kid. You think about the stories you will read together that will blossom their relationship with letters. You become friends with the local librarian to get their picks on the best books to read
Reality: You return the baby Einstein DVD's you bought once you discovered that Disney is now offering a refund on them because they don't work. You agree with them after seeing little improvement in your child's ability to recite the alphabet backwards, play Bach on the mini-piano, or speak Spanish.
You aren't reading Wuthering Heights to your baby as they drift to sleep because you realise there are ten other ways to get your baby to sleep, and reading isn't one of them. Plus, it delays you in your all consuming quest for your own bed. Your baby rips pages out of the library books and you feverishly search the house looking for tape while wondering if the library charges for books at retail price or higher. From now on you will only be checking out the board books. Your baby is the one who won't sit still during library reading and song time. Instead he breaks one of the cabinets in the room, yes - the door comes clean off (this happened to me, true story).
You totally got this though!
*Linking up with Essentially Jess for I Blog on Tuesdays