I wasn’t much of a worrier before I had Erin then after a pretty laid back first few months of Erin’s life the worry gradually crept in.
My boyfriend and I had muddled through together during his paternity leave but once he returned to work I had slowly become number one decision maker and carer of this tiny person the majority of the time. Having debates in my head on a daily basis about whether I was making the right decisions and worrying that I had not usually over seemingly small things - socks or no socks? long sleeves or short sleeves? and that was before I had even started getting Erin dressed. Am I doing all the things I should be doing with her for her age? If I don’t sign her up for this music and movement class will I permanent stunt her developmental growth!? Should I leave now, but if she falls asleep in the buggy its too early for her nap and it will screw up the whole day and nights sleep but if I don’t leave now I’ll be late!?
When she was a few months old we arranged for a family member to baby sit for us one Saturday afternoon so we could go for a meal and to the theatre in town. I excitedly expressed all week in preparation. As we walked to the tube it felt slightly wrong and I didn’t really feel excited anymore, just worried. We had a nice dinner at Bodean’s restaurant and then a couple of drinks at a bar in soho, this is when we should have probably gone home but we had theatre tickets booked. I sat watching the show, feeling my boobs throbbing just counting down the minutes until it had finished. I considered asking my boyfriend if we could go but I didn’t want to ruin the afternoon.
The worrying for me has definitely got less consuming as she has got older. And many successful nights out and even an Erin free (and worry free) holiday followed. There have also been phases or worry which have past as Erin has grown such as - is she eating too much? the right things? what if she chokes! during the weaning phase but my two main reoccurring worries that have remained fairly consistent since she was born are:
1. The - is she too hot or is she too cold - circle of worry
A constant worry whatever the weather. As winter set in last year I sat on the sofa in the evening, turned to my boyfriend and asked ‘“should I put a blanket on Erin, do you think she might be cold?” He replied: ‘’Nooo, she’s fine” turning back to the tv and obviously not giving it any more thought. After a minute or two more thought on my part - She has a fleece pyjama top on, but thinner pyjama bottoms and a grow bag, so her feet may be a little chilly - I went up stairs, sneaked into the room and put a blanket over her lower half. Yes thats better. Return to sofa. Think to myself - but what if she gets too hot with the blanket over her? - return to bed room to remove blanket. Return to sofa. Keeping thinking about it - actually it is very chilly tonight I don’t want her to get cold feet. Go back upstairs to return blanket. Return to sofa. Think Umm the heating control thingy that is set to keep the temperature at 18.5 degrees is on the top of the chest of drawers on the opposite side of her room, her cot is also quite low, so it will be colder there - return to room to put heating controller under her cot on the floor. Return to sofa. Think - What if the heating control gives out carcinogenic signals similar to mobile phones - its right under Erin’s head! Return to room to return heating control to top of chest of drawers. Return to sofa.
2. The - getting them to sleep/please don’t wake up/should I wake them up now - roller coaster of napping:
Erin was was a pretty good sleeper when she was born, as far as babies go, gradually building up her sleep per night and not needing as many feeds as the first 4 months past. The ‘week by week’ book I had brought on bringing Erin home from the hospital revealed in manageable weekly chunks that she was on track without me doing anything at all. Then the 4 month sleep regression hit, and by 6 months old when ever she was placed in her cot at bedtime already asleep she would wake up so we were forced into sleep training her. This involved me pacing the garden so as not to listen to the crying while my boyfriend checked on her - coming to tell me when she was asleep and it was safe to re-enter the house. This process worked really well for us and had the added bonus of when Erin got to sleep on her own would sleep for much longer too.
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| Nap time |
I decided this was also the time to get into a nap routine. The napping schedule was a daily roller coaster of firstly getting her to sleep at the right time, and once asleep keeping an eye on the time (come on you can get at least an hour), please postman, bin men don’t come now, why is that man sawing in his back garden now the selfish bastard! Then, christ its been an hour and a half, should I wake her up? One nap a day since she was one was much more manageable and consistent and I have got used to our days revolving around this time which is an enjoyable break for both of us! Please never end…
Even if someone had told me about the worrying you do when you have children, I don’t think I would have really got it until I’d lived it.
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