The first three months of your newborn baby’s life are
a really exciting and magical time actually pretty dark and depressing. I know its meant to be all lovely and cute and full of bunny baby grows and fucking cotton balls. But actually, in my experience it’s not. In my experience it’s a bit shit really.
I’m only now, just re-surfacing from my newborn baby enforced imprisonment. Niamh turns 4 months next week and I honestly feel like Andy Dufresne in the Shawshank Redemption. You know the guy who spent twenty years chiseling away at his cell wall and then waded through sewer pipes full of human excrement just to get out.
Yep, getting through those first few months with a newborn feels just like that.
The thing is, and I don’t mean to sound like such a terrible mother – but the thing is I don’t really like babies. I’m not a fan of babies, mine, yours or anyone’s. They just don’t do anything do they? Apart from cry and sleep and feed and scream for fucking hours on end. They don’t even have the decency to acknowledge you, even though you are half killing yourself trying to keep them alive. They just look straight through you, like you are a bloody amoeba or something.
I swear, for the first two months with Niamh, I could have been anyone and she wouldn’t have noticed. She didn’t know who I was, she didn’t care either as long as she was getting whatever it was her two second whim demanded in that very moment.
The thing is, and I don’t mean to sound like such a terrible mother – but the thing is I don’t really like babies.
Honestly the first three months are the worst. Sorry but they are. There’s just milk and sick everywhere and all over you. You live in a rotating cycle of five pairs of pyjamas and the only peace you get is the eight minutes you grab to have a bath when your husband gets home from work – before your four year old appears in the doorway to begin his nightly poo. That’s just how it is and there is no magic cure. There is nothing that you can buy on the internet at 3am that will make it all better. Believe me. It is what it is and all you can do is survive it.
Although having said that, I must add that I am a great believer in white noise. White fucking noise people! Sometimes it was the only thing that would shut her up and calm her down. I don’t know why. I don’t care why. If you have a newborn and you haven’t tried it then do – here is Niamh’s particular favourite. I have listened to this for literally hours and hours…
Anyway, the point is that the first three months are brutal – they are the darkest days. But now at nearly four months, I can see the signs of progress – that she is smiling and holding up her head. That she is reacting to other people and things going on around her. We have had the first hints of a laugh and I’m dying to hear the actual full thing. Finley had the best baby belly laugh I’d ever heard, so fingers crossed hers is just as hilarious. It won’t be long before these dark months are a distant memory.
The dark days are over and the good times are coming! Now let me just check whats in store, ah yes – the fourth month sleep regression, teething, routine setting, weaning, crawling and chewing everything we own…. Sounds like a piece of cake 😉