Half-Birthday

Half a year has gone and suddenly everything is changing, and my tiny scrawny bundle of hunger is a 19.5lb scamp who could beat me in a wrist-wrestle. I wanted to write a list of highlights, but really he has just gone through all the usual stages, like smiling and sitting and cooing at christmas trees, and everything he does seems wonderful. Well, everything apart from the monster nappies and the 2-hourly nightfeeds and the evening grizzling. But everything else is wonderful.

Being Bernard’s mum is a challenge, and working full-time was a lot easier, so I’m not at all sure how I’ll cope with going back to work part-time. I am looking forward to having some mental space in the day, when I can focus on something non-baby-related, and I think the quality of the time I do spend with him will be better for it.

I am hoping that over the next few weeks he starts to eat some more solid food, and to sleep for longer stretches at night. At the moment we are going through so many changes with the feeding, that sleep is even more intermittent than usual. We had a bit of a plan to move him into his own room at the end of January, but at the moment I don’t feel ready for that, mainly because it will make night-feeds so much more arduous, just when I’m needing better sleep. But perhaps it will work out.

I have found over the last six months that things do eventually resolve themselves, or we adapt to them. After all, it took me nearly three months to learn how to breastfeed, but since it started to work, I have really enjoyed it, and found it such a useful tool to have in my belt, for comfort and cuddles. One day in the future, when I have time, I am going to volunteer as a breastfeeding counsellor – the world certainly needs more of them. We were sort of unlucky that he was born in the middle of a heatwave, which made it feel even more difficult; and I was informed by a most unhelpful midwife, in the first hour after he was born, that I was going to have trouble getting Bernard latched on to the breast – I do wish I had ignored her, but it was one of those insidious comments that might have been better kept to herself. It did take a long time, but thanks to Pete, Alice and Lisa, we made it to six months, and I’m very happy about that indeed, and will carry on for as long as I can.

The advice I would offer to a new mum [if asked!!] is to relax and trust your instincts, and above all don’t watch the clock, time the feeds, or worry about how long or how often. A baby knows better than you do when he needs to feed, and if you spend all your time keeping records [like I did], it just makes it harder. Accept that there will be days when he spends more time on the boob than off it, and don’t plan to do any dusting. Oh, and ignore your visitors.

I love making Bernard giggle, or when he smiles at me during a feed. I love it when he’s peacefully asleep on my lap, and when all three of us wake up together in the same bed; I will miss having our breakfast there with him sitting in between us, now that we all have to get up and come downstairs to do the sensible family thing. I love him chattering and doing press-ups on the rug in the nursery after his bath. I love listening to Pete talking to him in his bath. I like spending time with him, whether it’s maintenance chores or fun or comforting him when he howls. He’s just great: the best baby I’ve ever had.