Today I was reading about a fellow blogger who has just had a baby and is back at home.
I’ve been there and done that. Three times. Each one different and fun in its own way.
I thought I’d take a moment to share some thoughts.
- The first time we brought our new baby home, we thought the smallest thing might break her and I drove at about the speed of a ride-on lawnmower, oblivious to the honks and shrieks of other drivers and passing joggers. By the time, we’d had the third baby, I think we might have stopped by the shops and a restaurant before going home.
- After the second baby, Danielle had an hilarious case of the ‘hormones’. Even she thought it was funny (after the event). We’d been back in the house with Brigitte for a night or two and we were watching a movie. Not a sad movie. Something normal, maybe an action movie. It finished and the credits started rolling. She burst into tears. Big leaky tears. I asked what was wrong. “The movie,” she sobbed, “it’s OVER!” Yes, guys, new moms have raging hormones. No harm done, just expect to be there for the new mom. Expect to be mystified. Don’t worry, she’s just as mystified. Also, it passes in a few days.
- For the first baby, we had advanced radar tracking her at all times. We watched her, knew and monitored all her movements (both kinds), and generally loved her rather restrictively. By the time the second baby was born, we’d keep her in sight unless we were busy with something important, like a good book. With Charlotte, we’d have conversations like this: “Where’s Charlotte?” “I thought YOU had Charlotte!” “No, didn’t you take her with you to the store?” “I might have, let me think.” (Charlotte cries upstairs). Together: “Never mind, that’s where she is.” This is sad but true…
- There were quite a few years between the first and second baby. This is because of a miscarriage which won’t be covered in the blog. Nevertheless, I had forgotten that new babies are ‘trained’. My first one used to lie still and giggle while I changed her diaper. When Brigitte finally came along, she’d wait until I was just about to stick the tie down and then squirm. Again and again. Uggh! It was a few months before she figured it out and enjoyed having the new diaper put on (so she could fill it with a special movement, just for me to clean up).
And now for something serious:
Sometimes, post-partum depression happens and you don’t notice. For me, I discovered something was seriously wrong when I couldn’t find my wife. I eventually found her in the garage, in the car, with the keys in the ignition. The engine was off or my life would have changed that day. Prior to that, no one had even mentioned post-partum depression to me. It’s real. Read about it. Don’t ignore it. It’s treatable. It’s no one’s fault.