Having a baby comes with a whole lot of positives and some negatives and at whatever age you are the learning curve is always going to be a steep one. Here's a list of what being a young mother as taught me:
- Selflessness
Gone are the days when I would get paid and spent nearly all of my bank balance on clothes for myself! Now William comes first - always - and I wouldn't have it any other way. I am ashamed to admit that there have been times when I have walked around in glue stained, paint stained, crotch-worn jeans that would get refused as a donation to a charity shop, just so that William would have something brand new. If I'm feeling tired and William needs his bottom changed or some play time with Mammy then there's no having a quick nap on the couch any more. I truly believe that sacrifice is an integral part of being a parent, whether your sacrificing your time, your money or your mental health. I also believe that young parents usually have to sacrifice a lot more. They are more likely to have to give up work because of child care issues, more likely to be in education and have to give that up, and more likely to enjoy an active social life which become severely diminished. Young parents are also less likely to be financially secure and will probably struggle more with money than an older parent of say thirty years old who has been able to establish themselves financially. I have been so fortunate, I have not had to give up work, or Uni and while I don't go out for drinks and meals with friends as much as I would do if I didn't have William, I still see my closest friends on a regular basis. Although I miss being able to go out on any given weekend on the spur of the moment, and I would like to spoil myself with some new clothes, William is my number one priority. For nineteen years of my life my only priority was myself, so having a wonderful and fragile new baby to look after and tend to twenty-four-seven was a big shock!
- Being Comfortable in My Own Skin
Before William was born I was a over a stone lighter. I dyed my hair on a regular basis, wore full make-up everyday and always had something new to wear. If I didn't have all these things I felt uncomfortable, and when I'd go out for the day, even if it was just to the shops I'd feel like people were scrutinising me. I could walk around with a full face of make-up and immaculate hair and feel like the ugliest person in Wales. Now, for the first time in my life, and despite being overweight, I am more comfortable in my own body than ever before. I can happily leave the house with no make-up and my hair just tied up neatly. I don't have time to pamper myself any more, and even if I did, I wouldn't. Having William has made me realise so many things, but one of the most valuable lessons has been that there is a lot more to life than how you look and what other people may or may not think of you based on this. Now I am content and happy with myself on the basis that I know I am a good person and a good mother and I will never feel bad about myself for not being a size six or not having perfect teeth and hair again. - Patience
Anyone who has tried getting a hyperactive twelve month old to sleep has learned the art of patience, and while I'm lucky that William is a genuinely pleasant and well behaved baby, he still manages to test my patience every now and again. There have been a few nights recently where I have been trying to get him to sleep and have found myself counting the thirty, or even sixty so that I don't get too stressed out. The thing that helps me to maintain my unfaltering patience is the thought that the more frustrated I become, the more upset William is going to get. I hate the thought of him going to bed upset, and on the odd occasion that I have lost my patience and said something like 'Shush William!' or 'Just go to sleep!', the sight of his little face crunching up, and the sound of him crying has been enough to upset me and make me feel absolutely awful. In extreme patience testing scenarios I will leave the room for a minute or two, make sure he's safe and that I can see him (I usually go into the kitchen) and then go back in when my stress levels are a bit lower and I'm ready to approach the situation with more understanding. When you are a parent you have to be patient in many ways. I felt like it took William ages to cut teeth, then to sit up, then to walk, and although he's talking now (he says 'no', 'Mam', 'Dad', 'Nan', 'hello', 'hiya', 'down', 'tata' and 'Tilly'), he's not using language in a way that I would say is conversational, so at the moment so I feel like I'm waiting for a talking breakthrough. I've spent so much time being excited for him to start doing all these things, and at the time I felt like I had waited a lifetime, but when I look back now I'm staggered at how quickly he's developed. This time last year he was still a proper little baby but he becomes less like a baby and more like an independent young boy everyday. A year ago he was just learning to sit up and cut teeth, now he roams around the living room, playing with toys and irritating our cats. - Compassion
It's hard to explain how becoming a parent can make you compassionate and I suppose everybody likes to think that they are a compassionate person. Let me give you an example of what I mean. You know those charity adverts that they show on TV for abused animals and children living in poverty? Before I had William I could watch one of these absent mindedly and although I felt sorry for the poor children and the neglected animals, I wasn't emotionally invested. When these adverts come on TV now I have to change the channel instantly because they really upset me. I was watching a documentary on North Korea a few weeks ago and it was about how the citizens of North Korea are living in poverty. There was one boy who caught my attention. He was living on the streets and a spy collecting footage of North Korea recorded him. The little boy was eight years old, and his mother hadn't been able to afford to look after him, so she told him to leave and he had been living on the streets ever since, begging for pennies to buy food and going through rubbish to collect scraps. His clothes were tattered and worn, and I couldn't help thinking 'What if that was my son?' and I actually cried. I also have a lot more compassion for parents. We've all been in close proximity to a parent trying to console or control their screaming child. It could be on the train, on the bus, on a plane or in a shop, and most people will agree that it's bloody irritating. While the sound of a screaming child goes through me like sharp nails, I can't help but feel a deep sense of sympathy for the child and the parent alike. While there is obviously something that the child wants or needs that is making them so upset - perhaps they're unwell? Perhaps they're hungry? Perhaps they're just spoilt? It is the parent who ultimately has to deal with the exasperated sighs from strangers, the annoyed looks, and the judgement. There is very little that is more frustrating for a parent than being out with your child, have them scream and wail for the entire outing and not be able to appease them. Not only is this a stressful situation to be in, but parents who go through this (myself included) often end up feeling like failures to their children, and on top of this they have to deal with the social pressure associated with having crying children in public.
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