18 Months of Motherhood

On Tuesday, Hannah was 18 months old. What?! Where does the time go? I remember the day Hannah was born like it was yesterday.

To be absolutely honest, when I first saw her face, I had mixed emotions. It was a combination of: ‘oh my goodness, I’m so in love’ and ‘oh my goodness, what have I done?’ – it was finally real. I was a mother, and this little person would rely on me, and hubby, for everything, for at least the first few years of her life. She was mine, my daughter, and how on earth could I ever be a good enough mother?

You could say I’m a slightly anxious person. I tend to worry a lot about things that may or may not happen. I always prepare for the worst and that way if things are better than the worst, I am happy. And yet, contradictory to that I am a positive person and prefer to smile rather than to get cranky. I love nothing better than to see other people happy and if I am somehow behind that happiness, I am happy.  So, I was extremely worried about constantly keeping this little human happy.

I was quite surprised then, when Hannah was merely a few hours’ old, most of these worries somehow melted away. Helped by the fact that my husband is a total natural with babies (and is a naturally relaxed person), I soon realised that newborns have very few needs – to be fed, to be kept dry and warm, and to sleep. The fact we were yet to set up the nursery at home or didn’t have enough size 0000 singlets (she was born three weeks’ early) didn’t matter one iota. ‘I can do this!’ I thought. That first day I was on top of the world and we welcomed many visitors to the hospital.

A few days later, however, I realised how much I could really love something that showed so little love towards me. (In the usual sense – there are no smiles, no hugs and no ‘I love You’s from newborns!) Those early hours of the morning when I would gingerly peer into her bassinet to check she was still alive (!) after only sleeping for an hour, and all of those times I fell asleep in the nursing chair with her bundled on my chest made me feel the strongest love I have ever felt.

The next 18 months were filled with ups and downs. At first, I struggled with filling the day with a baby – what on earth was I to do? Coffee dates and wandering the shops with a sleeping baby in the pram had their appeal, however I found myself cleaning, baking and basically driving myself nuts looking for things to do. And then, she laughed. She then learnt to giggle, to look me in the eye and to cry, properly cry. Hannah crawled, and then walked, and talked, sang and danced, ate basically anything we gave her, and apart from the zero sleep she seemed to need at night, was the perfect, little, curious, human being.

And now, Hannah, you’re 18 months old and I want to say thank you. The past 18 months have been the hardest 18 months I have ever lived, yet they have been by far the best. Seeing you grow and change and learn is so amazing. Seeing your dad in a new light, as a brilliant father, is so wonderful. I never thought motherhood could be the catalyst for me to become a more relaxed person, however your unpredictability has taught me to simply ‘go with the flow’, to not worry so much about sleep, to just enjoy the small things. It sounds cliche, however you have actually made me stop and literally smell the roses. Hannah, you are funny, smart, gentle yet strong, caring, confident, kind and a giant – I know you’ll be much taller than me. You are my shadow; and although sometimes you only want me to comfort you, and that’s tiring, I couldn’t live without you either. Happy 18 months Hannah, and thank you xx