I remember the first that I became a Mother, it was exciting but overwhelming. This tiny child that I now held in my arms, had become my world and even though he had now emerged from his secret home, he was still very much a part of me.
I felt connected, so deeply. His cries tore at my heart, his peaceful sleeping brought me peace. There was an intensity in looking after him that I had never known before. I watched as he woke, I looked on as he slept, I often wondered how best to care for him. He was my obsession and everything had to be just right for him.
It had been nine long months of waiting and now I hardly knew myself. What had become of me? This tiny child ruled my life and punished me severely each time I failed to meet his every need with deafening cries.
The days passed and melted into weeks, I felt like I was living on a treadmill, rushing from one job to the next. My tidy house seemed dishevelled and my long, brown hair had become a knotty mess. It was hard to believe that someone so tiny, could be so demanding.
Those gentle walks to Manly Bower brought me peace, the motion of the walk calmed his anxious heart and soothed his mind. The waves tumbled and the gulls rose. I was at peace again.
The first few weeks home, with a newborn babe, can seem tumultuous and never ending, but these days pass. And with it the new awakening that you are not the centre of it all… your catch up for coffee dates, your hairdressing appointments and surprise parties are not what life is all about.
It can be painful and intense, but looking back it was a great way to learn to get over yourself. To learn, for a moment that life is about others, it’s about serving and about giving and in that place, we can be made whole.