5 weeks feels like a milestone. I walked back from the park with Pip this afternoon and I didn’t feel worried by looking after her. I’ve finally started getting to know her and have started to fall in love with her. It feels less like a very small stranger came to live in our flat and more like she is supposed to be here. Even her screaming in the queue in Marks and Spencers didn’t faze me like it would have done previously
Last week, I was asked straight out if I was depressed. The health visitor skirted round the issue* (I saw her notes had a highlighted *history of depression* marked out on them – her bizarre questions just made me angry) and I’ve obsessed over the question, tears streaming down my face. Faced with at least the requirement for an internal response to the depression question though and the answer crystalised. Not depressed. Just adjusting.
That isn’t to say that I’ve worked out how to be a parent. I haven’t. Not even one bit. Real parents don’t wake up in the middle of the night and shout at their babies to be quiet. Or, at least, apparently that is what happened. I don’t even remember it. I’ve just started to be able to breast feed and stay asleep. That’s helped. That and the arrival of some sunshine. It’s a lot easier to make yourself go out of the house every day if the sun is shining.
I think it’s also helped that Pip’s personality is starting to show. She interacts with us more and we’ve started to understand her more. She has discovered her hands and can grab things; she has unfurled and is starting to look more like a baby girl than a new born. She follows us with her eyes and has fallen in love with her rabbit mobile, wriggling to the music on her changing table and reaching towards the revolving rabbits.
*and her visit is a whole other post…