Motherhood

I don’t know what to do with myself

 

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Monday, September 1. A day I had been dreading since we decided Georgie should attend pre-school. I kept mentioning to my friends and family how wonderfuly excited I am. It will be good for him, they would answer and I agreed. Still, having him by my side for three and a half years meant that separation anxiety was bound to rear its ugly head. It did and last week I fell into the deepest depression hole. I would burst into tears at least once a day and hold him a little longer every night before bedtime. He isn’t going anywhere, papa would say. He’s still your baby. But he’s wrong. And that’s the problem. He’s not a baby anymore.

Dressing him for school and preparing for those first-day-at-school photos, I could barely keep my shit together. My stomach was doing summersaults, my voice broken from holding back the tears. With his school bag on his back, he walked hand in hand with papa towards the school entrance and I drew a deep breath. This is it. School.

Yesterday, we survived Day 3. I say ‘survived’ because the first day was a breeze. That’s something that did not hearten me because I knew at that moment that he thought this was a one day activity. And why wouldn’t he? I’ve had time to process this change whereas he has been tossed into the spin with no warning. Day 2 he had to be torn from my body. It is a memory I decided to block. The only reason I am able to bring it up is because I called the school ten minutes later and the teacher said he was outside, playing. It had to be done, I told myself. Day 3 began on a sad note but ended shortly after his darling teacher appeared with a bucket of water. ‘Bye mummy’. Day 4 and no stress. Georgie looked forward to seeing his new friend, Matias and now my heart is at peace.

When I found out I was pregnant with Georgie, the plan was to…well, there was no plan. I imagined I would go back to work after my maternity leave, spend hours at the gym, drop Georgie at his grandmother’s every morning and kick back in the evenings with friends and wine. In no way would my life be disrupted apart from the extra accessory I would be carrying or pushing around, of course. Now I imagine the world must have stopped revolving at that moment and spat out the loudest BAHAHAHA!

I ended up staying home with Georgie and adopting the life of a stay-at-home mum. It still rings strangely but I have never enjoyed anything so much. This little man is my best friend and though I may not know what to do with myself at times, I do know he’ll always be my baby.

 

 

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