Wednesday, 10 September 2014

Happy birthday!

Tomorrow my youngest turns one.

A year ago, I was waiting to go into labour. A year ago, my husband and I were in the mad throes of finishing off our second round of renovations on our home. My in-laws had arrived to help out for several days. Our other two children were looking forward to meeting their sister.

A year ago I was absolutely exhausted after renovating, working full time, juggling two kids, not sleeping well and dealing with the anxiety caused by simulataenously knowing my marriage was in trouble but also certain that it wouldn't be about to end. When I arrived to hospital to be induced, I had no idea how I was going to get through labour. I felt absolutely exhausted, spent, shattered and labour hadn't started yet.

But he reassured me I could do this. That I'd done it before and I'd be fine. That I'd get the energy from somewhere, that it would be over and it would be worth it. He was quietly supportive, and during the day we laughed a couple of times, something we hadn't done for god knows how long.

He did the right things - passed me drinks and snacks, found me a trashy mag, made sure I ate, joked about bad baby names and tried to help me keep my gas intake under control. But I knew for certain then that the love was gone.

He was exhausted too; from work, from renovations, and something else I couldn't quite pinpoint at the time. He was going through the motions and I tell you there is no weirder feeling than giving birth in front of someone you know has become indifferent to you. Actually, it's not weird. It's fucked up and I don't wish it upon anyone. It is a terrible memory to have, and I work hard to make sure it doesn't define that day.

A month after I gave birth for the third and last time, he left.

There were many times since that day that I felt unfocussed, distraught, like I could climb the walls, that my world was falling apart. And at those times I kept reminding myself I'd somehow get through this, that somehow this would pass, that I would get the energy to keep moving forward for the sake of the children and myself.

I was lucky to have a couple of friends who would be a shoulder when I needed. Or pour me a drink.

Looking back now, I can also just begin to see that the pain was probably worth it too.


  1. Enjoy celebrating your baby girl! Glad to see a new post from you.