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A mum working the baby night shift
The night shift is always hard. I stare into those bright blue eyes looking back at me. His delicate soft hand holding mine. Glancing at the clock Its 2am and I want to be asleep, but the love for this little man drives me on to provide for him. The cries in the night, the need for mummy, the need to be comforted and held. I never imagined how hard having a baby really is.
We have had nights where the exhaustion and crying were so bad that we worked out that white noise would console him. Yes, leaving him swaddled in the Moses basket with the vacuum cleaner going actually made him stop crying. However, impossible for us to sleep with the noise.
Spending our days in each other’s company, a cosy closeness. Mummy cuddles and adoring looks. The smiles that completely melts a mother’s heart. Nap time, where I could watch him sleep in his pram and feel grateful for him. The night before forgotten, where I could crawl back to bed for a little while.
I don’t think any of us can really know what it’s like to be a mum for the first time. The tears, the wailing, the nappies, the feeding, the constant demands, the worries, the cliquey baby groups, the health visitors. The hope for a friend to be there and listen, to understand what you are going through. The advice from parents and in laws. Sometimes bad advice but as a new mum what advice do you take? Well, I followed my heart, that was all I could do and tried my best.
Doing the night shift for my son soon passed, sitting in his room by his cot feeding him. Kindle in my hand, willing him to fall back to sleep. Daddy still snoring, warm in bed, whilst I sat and shivered. The times that he finished feeding and fell asleep then as I placed him gently back in his cot he would wake again and start crying.
Maybe a mother’s torment. I just wanted to get out and get warm, but no. Nights now, baby in my arms with my blanket around me, sat on his bean bag. No space for a nice nursing chair.
After the tiredness and work of my first, I then had a second baby. A different personality who did not sleep much during the day and was often awake at night. Yes, the mum exhaustion was great. I now proudly had a double pushchair that I pushed them both around in. The children loved it. Trips to the town and trips to the zoo. They would call to each other across the pushchair.
They both enjoyed the Zoo. My son would climb out and start running off. They both loved the monkeys the big cats and elephants. Me, tired, pushing one and shouting at the other to stop running.
Those days when they were both confined to the pushchair were so much easier. I knew exactly where they were. Now they both disappear frequently in shops, leaving me praying that they are safe. Two blonde haired, blue eyed children, both very trusting despite all my warnings.
The double pushchair was heavy, but we must have walked miles. It was great for loading the shopping underneath. Despite all my efforts to take them out though, and despite times asleep in the pushchair. My daughter would wake most nights, forcing me once again to do the night shift.
As a mummy, looking at that tiny bundle in your arms feeding at a crazy hour of the morning, it is hard to describe the love. Despite the tiredness and the cold, you would do anything for your little one. It is a strong tie that nobody can come between. You will fight for them and do pretty much anything for them. I worry over mine constantly though actually, they are doing well.
Now at ages five and seven, they are both happy at school, their school reports could not have been much better. My son is exceeding in Maths, I’m not sure how as Maths is my weakest subject. They do honestly make me very proud to be their mummy. I will never forget doing the cold night shift and one day I’m sure my daughter will face it too. Not sure about my son, depends if he wakes up and helps. I’m sure some dads do, but daddy here quite rightly said, well what can I do? The answer was nothing really. I had baby and I had my Kindle.
So, now there are still nights where my daughter will wake. It’s usually me that will wake up to help her. Once more, doing the night shift, whether it’s a wet bed, being sick, or coughing fit, I am there once more doing my best. As mummy that is all, we can do. A few weeks ago, she had a very bad coughing fit and I was raising her pillows, then I spoon fed her some honey.
Willing her to be well enough for school the next day as I had a full workday arranged. Balancing work commitments and child commitments are not always easy. My five year old would have happily stayed at home that day but I took her to school. Advising them that honey had helped with her coughing and worried that my phone was going to ring. It didn’t and she managed her school day. I have now learnt that raising her pillows really helps to stop the coughing.
So, what would I advise mums doing the night shift? It does get easier eventually and those nights will become memories. Enjoy baby and the cuddles now as they grow up too soon. My mobile phone and Kindle helped me, but also don’t forget Facebook groups where other mums might be awake at the same early hour as you, and happy to chat. Especially if they are in a different time zone. Follow your heart and mummy instinct with all the advice thrown at you. You have to do what is right for you and your own sanity. Most of all enjoy your baby, enjoy the journey because it is a fantastic one to take.
Written for Blog battle Shift
For more see, Dusk the time between day and night
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Mother’s Day today poetry
It’s Mother’s day today, another Mothering Sunday,
Greeted by coffee and cards but it will be a long day.
Still have the homework battle, the cleaning and the reading,
The kids want to play, rather than learning.The weather is dry, the garden is bright,
The kids went outside, mum is too tired to fight.
The war of dirt walked all through the home,
After mum has vacuumed in every room.School reports are here, and mum and dad are proud,
Both very good, the kids are working hard,
Sitting here now, the ironing behind me,
Daddy is cooking dinner, just for us three.Daddy is not hungry, he will manage,
I listen to him cook and not discourage.
Digging in the drawers for all the ingredients,
Mummy is trying to exercise some child lenience.So, far today what have I achieved?
A pile of ironing when I just wanted to read.
Life continues on despite it being Mother’s day,
And there’s too much to do, to just rest and play.This last week has been long, it has been hard,
With many words written but the kids have been stars.
Through all our nagging and all our efforts,
They are finally showing great improvements.My 7 year old is supposedly a keen reader,
It’s a battle at home, he is the leader.
For to me he says, that he hates reading,
But his teacher says, that in reading he is leading.For all the efforts these two put in at school,
Maybe I need to relax at home, let them play the fool.
For mum, it is hard to get the balance right,
And not worry when trying to sleep at night.So, today it is Mothers Day, I need to rest,
Very hard to stop, when mum is trying her best.
My daughter has just appeared with the vacuum cleaner,
I wish with her homework, she was keener.So, the end of the weekend it now beckons,
Having built a castle, the stress it heightens.
For a return to the busy stressy work week,
Back to school and early rising, I need more sleep.Mother’s day is now almost over,
Time for a bath, kids to sleep under their covers.
The kids have read, more homework for the week,
Mummy just wants to curl up in a heap.Happy Mother’s day to all of you mums,
Hope the kids have treated you well, as it comes.
With the need to look after mum even once a year,
Time to look after your mum right here.If your mum is sadly no longer with you,
Time to remember as every day, just how much she did do.
For no one loves you as the one you call mum,
Reflect on the time you have had and do your sums.So right now, I’m stopping, I’m going to run a bath.
The kids are sat here having a laugh.
Playing together on a game simulator,
Talking in cyberspace, I blame the creator.For more see, It is March again poetry
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A dream house and a new baby
Ingrid sat with her hand on her tummy, feeling the small kicks inside her. 25 weeks yesterday and she was excited about meeting her baby boy. Married to Pete and now trying to move from their one bed flat in Clapham, they desperately needed a house with a nursery. She thought of the dream house she had wanted as a girl. Those with a veranda and a white picket fence. She realised she would not find one of those in Clapham. She then imagined an indoor heated swimming pool and a servant. Pete would have to change his job for that. Smiling she imagined the house that would go with it.
Pete worked in a small office as an environmental health officer. He worked hard and was looking forward to purchasing their dream home. Looking forward to having more then one bedroom and their own private stairs. Two toilets, one up and one down. In just a few months his family would be to big for their one bed flat. The flat was now on the market and the viewings meant they had to keep it permanently tidy, just in case the estate agent bought anybody to look around it.
They had met on a quiet evening in a small pub. Both on a work night out, coaxed by friends to talk to each other. They spoke at the bar and talked over a few drinks. After a lot of laughing they arranged to meet the following night and their relationship went from there. Now married for two years and their first baby on the way they had so much to look forward to. He thought about what life was going to be like. Of Ingrid as a mummy, he knew she would be wonderful. Ever calm and patient. Thinking of the life they could provide and their dream house.
Looking through house’s for sale, Ingrid should have been working. Her mind had not been on work for a while now. Focused more on her future then the typing in her tray. What girl honestly would be more interested in typing letters then looking through dream houses? She knew that some they could not hope to afford. Thinking maybe the owner might accept a wild offer, they might be desperate to sell.
“Ingrid, Ingrid, I’ve told you before I don’t pay you to look at houses, come on” Mr Miles tapped the table. “These letters will not type themselves”
“Ok Mr Miles, sorry”Pulling a face as he walked off, she picked up the first letter on the pile. She thought to herself this office is in the dark ages but, his hand-written scribbles do at least keep me in a job. Proceeding to type she put aside her houses for now
* * * * * * * * *
Once home she sat down and spread out the houses again. Not one had a veranda, but it is always the American shows that seem to have the veranda on the front with the decking, steps and hammock. Smiling she thought that maybe Pete could make her a white picket fence. They just needed to find the right home. After all a home is what you make it, it is not just the bricks and mortar. It was now she had a phone call from the Estate Agent. A couple had put an offer in for the flat. She said she would have to discuss it with Pete. Whew she thought, now we just need to find our home.
Pete arrived home excited, he had seen the house in an estate agents window. Set in a quiet cul de sac, he knew he could add a fence. There was no veranda on the front of the house, to put a hammock on like in the movies. However, there was a large British one on the back. Adding up the sums he knew that they could not really afford it, but this really was the dream house. Three bedrooms, a dining room which could be a play room and a lovely garden. This had to be it. No swimming pool but he did not want the stress of a pool anyway.
Now crying, Ingrid was surprised by Pete’s find,
“Can we go and look, now, please please, oh and a couple have made an offer on the flat”
“Excellent, I will phone the Estate Agent tomorrow, Ok, let’s do a drive by, we have a viewing in the morning” Even more excited now Ingrid was getting her hopes up. They had seen so many houses that were just not right. This one sounded perfect.It was a sunny Saturday morning as the young couple stood looking at their dream house. Pete had negotiated and had agreed the sale on the flat, so now it was the dream house. Would this work out? Would the bank give them the mortgage? Pete was hoping for promotion soon so that would help, plus he did have many years of saving and there was equity in the flat. He was very frugal which had made Ingrid a little mad. Glad now though that they had gone without unnecessary things as they needed the money now. They both knew that this was the home they wanted. She was already decorating the nursery in her mind. Rubbing her tummy and telling baby what a nice room he was going to have.
Sitting now in the office with the estate agent, they anxiously made their offer, first a crazy offer that they didn’t think would be accepted. The owners thought about it and phoned the estate agent back. They had refused but had a counter offer. Pete then offered a few thousand less back to that, they then counter offered again. Pete then accepted this as he knew that they a good deal. They were finally going to have their dream house.
* * * * * * * * *
A little while later they moved in, Ingrid started to decorate the nursery immediately. A few days later on a cold morning she was sat alone drinking coffee in the veranda when her contractions started. She phoned Pete who left work immediately. He got home to find his wife lying on the floor crying in a pool of water. He phoned 999 and was put through to a lovely lady who talked him through delivering their baby. Soon after Baby Luke made his entrance, screaming in to the world. The paramedics then arrived and helped to cut the umbilical cord and deliver the placenta.
Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com After a trip to the hospital mum and baby were discharged as doing well. Luke was happily breast feeding and Ingrid was wincing with the pain but getting used to it. She had been prepared for this and had bought some cream that she read would help her. However, she had not been prepared for the dramatic entrance in the veranda. Now their family was complete, lovely new home and Luke was quietly sleeping in his pram. She looked up at Pete who looked back at her, both happy and content with the world for now.
For Word prompt – Dream house – on Lornas Gin Lemonade blog
For more see, The secret time warp
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