I don’t believe it matters how old you are; being a first time mum (or dad) is scary. We failed on the practicalities from the beginning! The nurses on the ward wouldn’t let us go until they had fixed the fastenings in the baby car seat.
No matter how much you read before hand, that first night away from the doctors, nurses and sensible people who know about babies is absolutely terrifying and what made it far worse for me was the gaping hole where my mum should have been.
My mum passed away in a busy hospital ward with my sister and I holding her hands the Saturday night before David was born. When I went in for my caesarean on the Wednesday, I was grieving and scared. I can’t remember much about the delivery but I do remember the surgeon saying afterwards that she hoped the safe delivery of my boy would help. It did help. I was distracted and full of those positive hormones whose name I forget. However, my body was not coping so well and I was not producing enough milk.
The health visitor came for the routine check up three days later. David had lost more than 10% of his birth weight and I was a sobbing mess. She sent my husband and I to the community maternity centre where I sobbed and mourned for two days and nights while the fabulous midwives made me tea and toast and taught me how to pump, feed and subsidise my breast milk. If my mum had been here, then she would have been with me at home. she could have shown me how to do the things I learnt from the midwives. She could have reassured me that I was doing okay.
David is now 5 and I still feel that loss. Every time he reached a milestone, every time he did something that made me laugh, every proud and happy moment (as well as the scary ones) I want to share them with my mum but I can’t and so I continue to grieve. At times I have felt hugely angry at her which I am sure is normal but feels a bit unfair.
I talk about her and my dad to David. They would have loved him.