To the lonely mum or dad...

To the lonely mum or dad...

My early days of newborn glee I remember hazily. I was fueled by my overpowering love and utter disbelief that I in fact had created a tiny human with ten little fingers and ten little toes (I think I spent the first few weeks just gaping at Arthur and saying, "He's actually real. This really did happen." 

This eventually dissipated and whilst the love still grew, the reality of cluster feeding, engorged tits, brutal loneliness and sleepless nights took it toll quite heavily.

It's the hardest job in the world, really it is, and no one will ever understand until it's them.

So, if you're spending another day at home alone, just you and the kid(s) and you're on the 4368 episode of Teletubbies, If your partner is working long hours or there's nobody coming home to you. If the baby is fussing and you're feeling the pressure. If the bills keep piling up and you're scraping to get food on the table. If you're fighting silent battles or struggling to crawl through the day. If all you want is cup of tea that doesn't end up deserted again and a peaceful nights slumber. If you're feeling despair or it's not at all what you thought it would be...

Well, I just wanted to write to let you know that I'm with you. That I'm feeling pretty submerged in this lonely bus ride that is being a parent. That I'm tired, and lonely and depressed with the unfilled days. That I just need a break and a flicker of hope. That I'm losing battles and struggling most days. That I sometimes wonder if it does gets better. 

I wanted to promise that you're not the only one, despite how it seems. That things will, in time, feel less overwhelming, a little less hectic. That although you pick and doubt every decision, you are doing a fantastic fucking job. That you should be so extremely proud of how far you've come. 

I'm still falling asleep in my coffee at 4 pm. I still haven't worked out a routine. My child, at one year old, still refuses to be more than 1cm away from me, will not sleep in his own room and holy hell, will not remain comatose for a full eight hours. I'll finally get us into some sort of functioning system and then find it collapses three days in.

I'll give him potato waffles for dinner some nights because I'm so bloody tired, because I can just pop it in the oven and because I don't know what else to cook. I am functioning only through excessive coffee consumption on the hour. I spend some days staring blankly at the T.V whilst secretly plotting Mr. Tumbles sudden disappearance.

I find Art's separation anxiety exhausting and hard to cope with at times. When I can't pee alone or he clutches to my leg like a new accessory. When I just want to relax with a rum after a crap day at work. When I just want to meet a friend, hell any other human being for a coffee without him screeching in my ear for my undivided attention.

I have no idea why he cries half the time. I do get annoyed when he just won't GO.TO.SLEEP! because I'm as drained as he is and his bedtime is the only small window I'll get at possible me time (I know, what's that you're thinking? I'm not quite sure myself.)

I know the demands of being a parent can seem incessant. I know it feels a little chaotic. I know you may have lost people you thought were friends. I know it can feel a little mundane and like it just won't get any easier. I know the days feel long and the weeks seem pointless.

But I can say you're not on your own. That somebody out there knows how you feel. That your little ones love you with all their heart. You are their person.

That you've got this. That you can do it.

One step at a time.


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