(rated PG)
Resolving the old you with the new parent-styled
you can cause some angst, writes
Orla Breeze
.
Knowing me,
knowing you
I
was a bit naıve when I became a
mum. And I don’t just mean about
the HUGE amount of work involved in
taking care of a baby. Everybody gets
whacked around the face with that one.
It was more to do with how the woman I
thought I was before childbirth suddenly
turned into someone altogether different,
and how I’d be required to get to know
her all over again, whilst also trying to get
to know my newborn. And we all know
how long
that
takes. The timing couldn’t
have been worse.
In my case, the old Orla legged it out
of the hospital just as soon as my baby
entered the world. That self-assured,
laid-back, emotionally stable version of
me ran as fast as she could, bellowing,
“Taxi!” I don’t blame her, although I do
sometimes think she could have waited
until they had finished stitching me up.
That’s just manners, right? But, as she
gleefully waved from the back of that
speeding cab, she left behind a terrified
newborn woman, desperately wishing I
was in that car with her.
The thing is, I liked the old me. She
had conquered her demons. Shouting
was something she hadn’t even thought
about for the vast majority of her
gloriously self-involved 20s. Anger had
no chance of ever overcoming her, what
with all the personal time she had to
contemplate her life lessons. And as for
guilt? Well that was something she didn’t
give even the tiniest of thought to. But
Orla 2.0? She was a whole new animal.
She thought and felt things I didn’t even
know were possible:
Shouting as a new way of
communication. Anger at creating
herself anew as a 24/7 carer of a baby,
who literally never stopped crying. I
mean, who knew anyone could feel
irritated by a beautiful baby boy? Guilt
became a layer of new tight-fitting
clothing that she had never intended
to buy, let alone wear. But man, was it
difficult to take off at the end of the day!
Or at any time actually. “Should I have
breastfed for longer?” “Should I have put
him in his cot instead of letting him sleep
in his stroller?” “I should be holding him
more, shouldn’t I?” She spent most of her
time “should-ing” all over herself.
Needless to say, I wasn’t very fond
of the new me. And with the old version
slowly becoming a distant memory, the
idea of even trying to get to know her
wasn’t the least bit appealing.
So I ignored her completely.
Until one day when the old me
called me up out of the blue. She’d been
sipping cocktails by the pool when she
realised that something just didn’t feel
right. A part of her was missing, she said.
And that part was me. So, after a little
conversation, we agreed to get together
to see if we could come up with a new
version of Orla that was acceptable to
both of us – one that combined her fun,
carefree attitude with my newfound
understanding of life from that clearer
perspective of parenthood.
Which is exactly what we did.
And although she never apologised
for her total abandonment of me at a
time when I really could have done with
her support, I knew she was sorry. She
simply couldn’t cope with the changes
that were coming. But, the truth is, I’m
grateful she ran away. If she hadn’t, I’d
never have known how important her
fun and laughter were to my happiness.
And I’d never have known that
my
happiness would make such a HUGE
difference to the happiness of my family.
Turns out that getting to know the new
me was just as important as getting to
know my new baby – and definitely just
as rewarding.
22
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