Saturday, 23 October 2010
Honestly, I found this year many things: Surreal. Testing. Surprising. Lovely. Engrossing. Frustrating. Scary. Tender. Enriching. And, well, HARD!
Maybe it is because I never ever babysat or had any experience with babies except for an occasional, quick and fearful hold of a pal's offspring. I've never been broody. Babies seemed nice, if foreign beings.
And my own sweet boy really was no exception. I remember going out with him in total fear that he would kick off crying and I Wouldn't. Know. How. To. Make. It. STOP.
And in fact, that did happen on occasion. I often felt like he was an unpredictable bomb which may go off at any time. It made me twitchy and jumpy. Not that he was by any means a particularly fussy or troubled wee babe. I was just a fussy and troubled mum.
Slowly, very slowly, I started to trust myself. Started to understand what he wanted, needed and took pride that going into MY arms often made it all better.
And now. Yes, Really only now, 12 months later, do I feel a bit calmer.
More space to relax into motherhood. Relish in the sunny, clear and uncomplicated love. Soak in the loveliness of holding hands.
And in getting to know my very sweet, smiling, curious, affectionate and heart melting boy, I am growing into the mother I want to be.
But the best thing is hearing my very favourite all time word.