New Mummy: And so it all begins

It’s 2.30am and I’m sitting in bed, carefully cradling my new baby girl, Honor, born just hours ago. My husband Adam has been sent home for the night, the midwives are busy at the other end of the hallway, and it’s just Honor and I, alone together for the first time.

No matter how I tried, nothing could have prepared me for this moment. Not fully.

The jolt of unconditional love came instantly, unequivocally, the second she was born. In fact, it had been growing for nine months, ready to hit me at that moment when, shaking with adrenalin, dripping with water from the birthing pool, and sobbing with relief, I first held her in my arms.

And from that moment, I haven’t wanted to let her go. I did, of course, to let her proud daddy take her, and then her grandparents, who had covered the length of the country to meet her, bursting into the hospital room brandishing champagne this afternoon and prising her from my arms.

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And now here she is back in my arms, just the two of us. Me, an emotional wreck. Her, a tiny, perfect being, so new to the world she can barely open her eyes, cries like a kitten, and depends on me, on us, so utterly for her survival – so small yet so unbelievably important we already cannot imagine life without her.
Rewind a bit. Yes. That ‘utterly dependent’ bit. The enormity is now hitting me. Of course, I knew she’d be helpless, she’s a newborn. But I underestimated entirely the overwhelming feeling of responsibility.

Suddenly my focus and perspective on the world has changed; I’m starting to view everything as a mother, an overprotective one, clearly. Global warming, national debt, terrorism - they suddenly seem to be personal problems as I want the world to be just right for this brand new baby of mine. Likewise violence, crime, cyber bullying. Even the thought of driving the car, sharing the road with other drivers, unpredictable drivers, makes me sweat.

I read enough parenting books while pregnant to know by heart every emotion I ‘should’ be feeling.  I had fleetingly worried as I read chapters on not bonding with baby, and postnatal depression. What I didn’t read about was the sudden, irrational panic that Armageddon would rob my daughter of her future!

But then, I’m not surprised I’ve already encountered something I didn’t expect, something I hadn’t read in a book. These are my first few hours of motherhood, my baby not even a day old - I don’t know what I’m doing. Honor no more came with an instruction manual than via stork all tied up with a pink bow.

But that really doesn’t matter. Okay, we’re only hours in, but I think this protective instinct might just see us through. There will be mistakes, of course, hundreds of them no doubt, but I’m making a promise right now that I’m going to do everything I can to give this little girl the very best start in life. Everything I do from here on in will shape her into the person she is to become.

I can’t dwell on this thought for long - it scares me something silly. Plus it’s been almost two days since I last slept and philosophical thoughts aren’t coming easily.

Instead, I think I’ll just stare at the baby again. She is beautiful. This surely is the most beautiful baby anyone has ever seen. The midwives said so too... I know they probably say that to everyone, but with us they really meant it, right?