So I am sitting in the back of the car in a lot of pain, squashed besides the car seat which is bearing my son all of two days old. As the car drives on my mind fills with conflicting thoughts.On the one hand I am excited to finally come home and experience the joys of motherhood on my own, sans the help from the hospital and finally fulfil my lifelong dream.
On the other hand I am somewhat hesitant and fearful. Doubt enters my mind and I question myself wondering if I will cope at home on my own and manage without the security of the hospital.
With trepidation, I glance out in the darkness, whilst gently caressing the sleeping baby in the car seat and I notice with fear that we are close to home. We arrive. The car parks outside my home and I gingerly climb out, wincing in pain and feeling helpless whilst everyone unpacks the car. I stand empty handed following the Doctor’s orders of “carrying nothing heavier than your baby”.
We enter our apartment. The door closes. We are on our own.
What now? My husband is busy setting up the baby gear. I am relieved that the baby is still quiet in the car seat so I have time to tend to my needs and get it out the way to be ready to feed the baby when he awakes.
I settle in and take in the transformation of my apartment. It is full of baby clutter.I head to take a shower. My husband has to step out for a short while to take care of something, but I am too worried for him to leave when I am in the shower. Nervous that the baby would awake and feel abandoned. So he waits until I complete the shower and then leaves.
I struggle for a while with feeding the babe as I am still learning on the job. I do a bit of tidying up from all the overwhelming presents I don't know what to do with, we then finally relax in bed. I breathe in and the past 72 hours swirl through my mind. I close my eyes in relief when: waaa waaaa....
A long night has begun!
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