Since the day you were born, I’ve not truly felt like I was your mummy. I’m not sure why – maybe it was because I was convinced that we would lose you or something else would happen during my pregnancy. Maybe it was because nothing ever went right for your daddy and me.
We both have been through a lot over the years, before we became a couple and thereon after. But one thing will always remain true, we always make it through together, no matter how difficult things got.
Your daddy was the positive one while I was carrying you. You see, your daddy was led to believe he couldn’t have children, until the moment the result appeared on my pregnancy test – positive.
From thereon, you became his shining light, his everything and more.
Me, on the other hand, I couldn’t get my head around that you were real. My body has been through a lot over the years and, as a result, I had low expectations of how much more my body could endure.
But you’ll learn that as you grow; I always underestimate myself.
I remember the moment when everything suddenly felt very real – our 20 week scan. Because of my hearing loss, I really wanted to find out, at the same time with your daddy, if you were a boy or a girl.
I looked at you on the scan, turned to your dad and smiled, then looked at the sonographer and said, “Girl?” To which the sonographer nodded and smiled. I had tears in my eyes as I turned back to the scan monitor, watched you wriggling about, smiled and whispered,
“Our Little Daisy”.
… but I still didn’t feel like I was your mummy.
When you were born, and held up above the screen so that me and daddy could see you for the first time, I smiled and had tears in my eyes.
You were finally here. Safe. Healthy. Carrying you for 38 weeks and 2 days was definitely not easy, and definitely something that nobody thought would ever happen. But you were most definitely real. And here, in my arms.
It pains me to write this, but I still didn’t feel like I was your mummy.
The days that followed were a mixture of elation, bliss, agonising pain and ultimately ending in tears.
Despite the pain, and exhaustion, I couldn’t stop smiling because I was still immensely captivated by you. But then things started to go downhill. Not because of you, instead it was me.
In any other circumstances, we would have been able to go home the day after you were born, but the majority of the nurses didn’t have any experience of caring for someone with my needs. Therefore, it had an impact on me.
I’d never experienced back pain like this before, the tiniest movement was excruciating. When nurses transferred me or helped me to change position, they didn’t do it slowly, which made my back feel like it was going to break. I was extremely fragile.
Morphine was the only pain relief that managed to ease it slightly, but it was a huge blow when I found out I wasn’t allowed to be prescribed any Morphine to take home with me. I didn’t know how I was going to cope, I thought you and your daddy would go home without me.
The thoughts triggered flashbacks of when I was in ICU, the time I spent on my own, the countless hours of staring at the ceiling praying I would make it through to the next day. Instead of being able to enjoy the second day of you being in our world, I felt scared, anxious and very emotional.
You also had your first hearing test that same day. Me and your daddy were worried sick that you would have hearing loss like me, or deaf in one ear like your daddy. We were worried because my experience with hearing loss has been frightening, isolating and left me feeling uncomfortable in social situations.
We were scared that that was going to be the reality for you.
While you were having your hearing test, every second that we waited felt like forever and a day. The lady looked up and spoke to Ewan. He acknowledged what the doctor had said and sat down beside me on the bed.
“Daisy’s hearing is perfect”.
I broke down in floods of tears; relieved. Even your daddy and the nurses were tearful because they knew how much it meant to me. Knowing you could hear our voices, the hustle and bustle of the world around you – I’m at a loss for words as to how to put how I felt into words. Simply and truly happy.
And even though I knew you meant everything to me, I still didn’t feel like I was your mummy.
All of the emotions, anxieties, exhaustion and pain resulted in me having the baby blues. When we were finally discharged home, I struggled to bond with you. It was causing me so much pain to even hold you. I felt completely useless.
Daddy and your Nanny looked after you for the first few weeks, I was scared to even hold you at times because, to me, you were so tiny and fragile. Plus, it was heartbreaking for me to watch your Daddy and Nanny bond with you so easily; what was I doing wrong? Am I not meant to be a mother? Am I always going to feel like this?
Until one night…
You were about 4 or 5 weeks old when you started to become really unsettled at night. Milk wouldn’t help you settle, nor would a dummy, or being all cosy and warm. Daddy tried singing to you, to no avail. As the early hours kept creeping forward, I was more awake so I held you close to me.
I made sure you were comfy, with your head on my chest, so that you could hear my heartbeat. That’s when you started to settle.
Because you needed me, your mummy.
That was the moment I finally felt that I was your mummy. All my worries, bad thoughts and feelings faded as I was completely focused on you. I stayed awake for the rest of the night to make sure you got some sleep, and do you know what? I loved every second of watching you sleeping so peacefully, your little fingers and toes flexing with contentment.
Since then, my love for you has grown more and more, every single day. Your smile is the most beautiful of smiles. You are turning into such a little character and it’s truly wonderful to watch your personality blossoming.
I am beyond thankful that you are my daughter, that I am your mummy. I love you so much, Daisy-Doo, more than you’ll ever know.
Always and forever,
Love Mummy 💚