Post Natal Shopping

One  of the things one learns very fast after having your firstborn, is that nothing happens ‘just quickly’. You don’t ‘quickly’ run into a shop, you don’t ‘quickly’ feed your baby before leaving the house and you don’t ‘just take a quick shower’.

The latter is not possible due to all the bodily changes, creams and special care needed, especially after a C-section. ‘Quickly’ feeding…well, that’s simply just not up to you!

The one thing you definitely don’t do is a quick shopping spree. My rude awakening was when I tried to do my first monthly grocery shopping with a six week old baby. The first wrong assumption I had was that a snug ‘n safe (mobile safety car chair that fits into a pram) fits onto a shopping trolley. If you also wondered about that, the answer is NO! Some grocers have their own chairs fitted onto the trolley and, because they are for public use, they are usually gross. So, there I was having to push a trolley with a baby sitting in a snug ‘n safe and pulling another one, with the groceries in, behind me. Please take a moment to visualise this and add the anxiety of maybe having to feed , change a diaper or trying to calm down a screaming baby in an unfamiliar public place, as an undercurrent.

The bread and fresh produces isles went fairly well – baby fast asleep. ‘No problem’, I thought, ‘Make way for super mom! Eat your heart out Lara Croft!” I felt my coat suddenly becoming too hot when baby woke up before entering the next isle and she was not happy. Luckily this blew over fairly quickly and we could move on.  Next I met the human obstacles I would keep on encountering in almost every isle from now on.

Firstly there were the grandparents, each with a trolley – one with a toddler in and one with groceries. ‘Great’, I thought, “At least I would get some sympathy/ empathy from them’ Alas, not even eye contact and believe me, two people attached to two trolleys moving together very slowly can take up a lot of space (Please remember the drive caused by aforementioned anxiety.).

In the baking isle we met a lady with a crutch and trolley, suddenly I felt guilty about feeling very sorry for myself. At least I got a sympathetic glance from her.  We would cordially move past each other in every second isle without any grudges.

And there she was – the REAL super mom. Her peaceful baby hanging in a sling in front of her motherly bossom, serenity radiating, she floats past and remarks ‘Always a mission, isn’t it?’ ‘Really?’ I thought. She did not seem to struggle with this at all. It looked like she had more well-behaved offspring at home, probably doing chores while singing ‘A spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down…”.

In the sweets isle we encountered the fat lady. She did not sing. I was well pleased with this. She was, however too heavy to stand and had to be pushed in a wheel chair by her scrawny partner/ husband. She did not notice us at all, while she was ordering him which kinds of sweets to put into the basket. We squeezed past.

We/ I, properly sweating by this time – two trolleys can become very heavy-, also got stern frowns from a very well dressed career woman, each time we passed. Career…hmmm…something I used to have…’can’t eat it though.

Just as I thought we managed to overcome the most intimidating obstacles of this course, we faced the till. More importantly we faced the will operator. After this exhausting journey, I met the grimmest looking person I have seen in a long time. She mumbled something inaudible thrice while glaring at me. I still don’t know what she said, I simply answered ‘yes’ after the third time. She sighed. By now I was not in the mood for someone else’s mood. So, I tried to make conversation after our unfortunate introduction. ‘I see your name is XXX. What does it mean?’ More mumbling, so I asked again. ‘It comes from the word xxx, which means friendly,’ she said. ???! Seriously?! Before I could think I spat out, ‘‘Well, you sure are not friendly today’. More glaring. I could feel a blush creeping up my cheeks. Not the best line, I know. Also not the way to brighten up a crack pot. ‘Gmf’, as Garfield would put it.

We made it to the car. My baby was fast asleep and this time we had a peaceful journey home. I think I was allowed to level 2 after making it through this day’s course, despite the loss of points in the last quarter.

A mother ?

So, everybody says, "Your life changes when you start having kids." This is not really helpful, since you already know that, but there is no way you can really know just what that REALLY means or how you should prepare for it. Everybody says, "Get all the sleep you can, before your baby is born", but that doesn't help either, since a pregnant body is not the best vessel to spend long restful nights in. Some people say your life is over when you start having kids...now that's just an outright lie... the way I see it, anyway.

All of a sudden she was there - our little bundle of joy. After months and months of preparation, anxiety, expectation and excitement...but what now? It struck me on the second last day in hospital - I am a MOTHER! For the rest of my life and irrevocably, a mother. What does that even mean? I started looking around for clues. In the bed next to me the 'second time mom' was talking to her newborn the whole night. 'I don't have so many words', I thought. Opposite me the other 'second time mom' radiated a calm serenity, her life was complete. 'I am not calm!' I thought. The heeby jeebies started running up and down my stomach. "If I ran now, would anybody notice?"

At home it didn't take long for us to make a panic stricken phone call to the mothership - "Come sooner, please! A.s.a.p.! Tomorrow if you can!" All help and supoprt were accepted, asked for, demanded!

During the next few weeks I was thoroughly introduced into the world of cabbage leaves, nipple cream, bumb cream, sleep deprivation and question marks. No time or space for inhibitions or privacy. That seemed to be over for good. But every time our little girl would look at me while feeding, yawn and stretch or even just lie there peacefully, it made all the effort seem like a distant memory. No, really. I probably would not have believed this before either.

Pretty soon Mother's Day came. I still hadn't been able to define what a mothe rwas/ is, but the acknowledgement of being one sure felt good on that day.

I think I might be gradually moving closer to a definition now. I see a mother in every kind word, in every ear that listens, really listens, in every unselfish act of service and in every soft touch. I don't think the capacity to mother is only dependent on actually having delivered a baby. Some people naturally mother, others have to be stretched, pruned, grown into being one. I am probably the latter.

There is still much more to it than that, but this is what I have so far.

Suddenly I am so thankful for this rough opportunity to be stretched, moulded and tested. Hopefully the mother in me will gradually grow to be someone I will be able to describe and get to know well.