The Survival Guide for Rookie Moms

Ok, so when exactly does the angst stop? The worrying, I mean. It doesn’t, does it? Just tell me… I can take it… it’s not going to end is it?

The funny thing is, I’d guess that most people who know me – be it very well or not much at all – would use ‘relaxed’ or ‘care-free’ as one of the adjectives to describe me… Or they WOULD have prior to arrival of my son. That’s what’s changed, you see, I became a mom. And now I worry.

I worry all the time – about absolutely everything. I worried through the first trimester of the pregnancy, prayed and hoped that I’d get through those 13 or 14 weeks that would then make the pregnancy ‘safe’. I got through those weeks (thank God) and then became obsessed with my doppler. That poor little guy. I swear I was listening for his galloping little heart beat 2 or 3 times a day… then a few weeks later he started moving a lot and I could feel him and … I relaxed … for about 5 minutes… because then he wasn’t moving ENOUGH… so out came the doppler again … gallop gallop gallop… fine … phew relax… Then I got really, really pregnant and he was moving non-stop, growing … phew … relax. Then he was too big and I had to be induced… terrified…. induction didn’t work… worry worry worry… C-section…

BABY. A healthy, kicking, screaming, purple-faced little person who was not shy about expressing his annoyance at being disturbed and unceremoniously removed from warm, comfy home… Phew… relax… Happy mommy.

Ok, I thought, now I can stop worrying. He’s fine. He’s healthy.

WRONG. Then I worried MORE!

A baby? Who knows what the hell to do with a new baby? I mean how do they work? Man did I worry. I didn’t think I would manage. In fact, after about 3 nights at home I insisted on being rushed back to hospital because I thought he couldn’t breathe. Wrong. He was fine. “Is this your first baby?” asked the somewhat bemused Doctor. Yes. First baby. Worried. He had a slightly blocked nose. Whoops.

Now he’s 14 months old and, um, thriving. Ok he’s enormous. He’s an 83cm, 13 kg, walking, babbling marvel. Still I worry. He sleeps too much. Worried. He isn’t sleeping. So worried. He won’t eat. Worried. He’s hoovering down vats of food. So worried.

So this is it now, I guess? I just spend the rest of my life being terrified and worrying. I tell ya, being a mommy is not for ninnies. But, man, is it great.

Margaux Nissen Gray, lives in Dublin, Ireland and is mom to MacKenzie
Read her Shades of Grey blog at http://www.jamesandmargaux.blogspot.com/

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