Lucie has just started in the world of blogging and her first entry is being guest appeared on Mummy Deer. WELCOME LUCIE.
I’m Lucie and I’m 32, living in Cornwall. Lover and mama to one beautiful specimen who forgot how to breathe and just be.
A week ago I sat in CDG airport in Paris, without my bebe but with my lover; I sat in the departure lounge silently patting myself on the back.
If you would have told me three years ago that this would be possible, I would have laughed, primarily at you for even suggesting this and secondly at myself for the state I was in.
Three years ago I was trapped, trapped within my parents’ house, trapped within myself holding a six month old bebe.
I sat on my parents sofa, frozen in time, crying; my parents questioning the ‘baby blues’ to which we all believed that what I was experiencing was a natural feeling for all first time mothers.
Truth be told, eight weeks before my due date, my parents and I packed my bags and left the house I was sharing with daughters father. Fast forward six months in and I was finally coming to the terms of bringing up a child all on my own. Overcome with responsibility, guilt and personal inadequacies I sunk into a deep hole of crippling anxiety.
Anxiety was not a new friend to me; I welcomed it into my life in my late teens following secondary school bullying, shitty boyfriends and a few too many bad choices. Despite my amazing childhood that my parents had provided for me; it simply wasn’t enough; or more to the point I wasn’t.
I assumed that my ‘magical’ pregnancy would wave goodbye to my demons, turned out they were lying dormant waiting for the most opportune moment to strike.
Fast forward to the present and I am finding that the more mothers that I cross paths with is that this is extremely common; and many, many birthing stories aren’t picture perfect. Not quite the classic ‘one born every minute’ episode and after experiencing this life changing moment, mentally, physically and psychologically we as mothers are drained; and how can we turn to someone and ask for help when selfishly we have been granted with the most perfect creation: our child.
Once when I reached out for help, I was told to look at what I had and realise that what you have is more than enough; to hear what I was experiencing was ‘alien’ and shouldn’t be happening as I had been blessed. If only it were that simple; I could see a beautiful bebe, I could also see fear, guilt and people’s opinions on my forthcoming judgements and child rearing abilities.
Anxiety and depression within pregnancy and post birth can strike; I painted my face in clown make up, I slathered my face in a ‘show’ smile. Ironically I hate clowns, funny though I feel like the last three years I have been trying to remove my stage makeup and hang up my bowler’s hat, gregarious iconic outfit and exit the circus tent.
I found solace in endless cups of coffee, laughing with my mother and my best friend sending me endless love via a postcard.
All I needed was a vent; a blank page, possibly an ear, time and a mirror. My dads theory; a mirror. ‘Get in front of that mirror’. That god damn mirror, the mirror to stand tall in; to take a look at your miraculous self and tell yourself out loud that today, just today, as tony would say you are grrrrrrreat.
Once you realise that what you feel and write down is not the end of the world, it’s actually not that bad and neither are you.
Love Lucie x
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