Who am I now?

I was chatting to some other mums at our swim class last week when I realised that although I could reel off the name of every baby in the class...I had no idea what their parents were called. These were people I had spent more than an hour with every week for the last 12 weeks, but they had been shifted into second place behind their tiny new human.

Sidelined

Marginalised

Dehumanised

I had done the one thing I swore I wouldn't do and had lost sight of a person in favour of their kid.

Life as a new mama is hard enough without feeling as though you have lost yourself too. So many new parents can suffer with PND (it's not just for mums folks, so please be kind to daddies too) after the arrival of a wee one, particularly in those first 3 months...those 100 days of darkness, when all you seem to do is feed, burp and clean their bum, then attempt to grab a few moments of sleep before you repeat the process. A few minutes of rest before you wipe up drool/spit up and change a soaked onesie or your own filthy clothes (if you can get that chance!)

All too many new mamas feel frumpy, lumpy and lost....so you can imagine my surprise when I felt the total opposite. yes, I know it sounds strange, but despite the exhaustion I felt invigorated. My confidence soared. I stopped apologising for my lumps and podge and began to stand tall.

Yes, I am fat. Yes, I am tired. Yes, I have scars and wrinkles and thanks to the anti-clotting injections my frankenbelly looks like a junkie's. But, with a lot of difficulty, this body made my boy. I will forever love it for that, and my husband tells me often that he loves my body even more now than he did before. I was lucky. I found my tribe & have fantastic support from an amazing group of mummies who remind me often that I am still me and that I am looking good. I try hard to return the favour to them all as often as I can.

I think what I am trying to say is that your bodies are amazing, each & every one of them, so please, every now and then look at yourself in the mirror and see the true reality. You are beautiful and unique and deserve compliments, so don't shrug them off. Accept them with a gracious smile like the goddess you are. When knobjockeys diss you, as they are wont to do, tell them to fuck off. Just remember to enunciate clearly, for you are a lady. And ladies...try to remember each others names. See those gorgeous mamas, not just their beautiful babies.

You Can't Hurry Love

I think Pat Benatar might have been on to something. Love could possibly be a battlefield. I’ve spent a fair chunk of the last 6 months actively pursuing a relationship. I figured that I couldn’t whine about being single if I never left the house or met new people, so I re-activated the online dating profile, and accepted all offers from friends to hit the town, or village, or even the opening of an envelope. I was putting myself out there and praying that the right someone (if only for now) would magically appear. 

Now, I’m not totally unrealistic. I didn’t expect to find true love on my first date, or even the second or third. I even anticipated a few dire messages and dates but I genuinely didn’t expect the god awful quality of responses that I did get. They were bad enough that one could justify asking the truly clichéd question of: Where have all the good men gone and where are all the gods?

From the obvious, but highly boring, “Hi, how are you today” to the rather worrying “I used to write longer messages”, I think I’ve had every response possible. My current  favourite is the guy who simply wrote,” I read your profile and liked it. Now reply”. You’ve got to love his (misplaced in my opinion) confidence!

It wasn’t all doom and gloom. There were some possibles that actually made it to the real life date stage. Sadly, in all those cases, it rarely went beyond one date. 

One lucky man did make it to two dates, but spent his whole time on the second one whining about his ex and calling her ‘Her Ladyship’ in a really sarky tone of voice. Plus, not only did he not offer to pay for my cinema sweeties (not a deal breaker in my case) but he visibly cringed at the price of them. Now I can be as cheap as the next girl, and having worked in this particular chain of cinemas, I know all too well how over-priced their food is, but it was only £3. I thought that was quite restrained for me actually and when I added tight-fisted to being hung up on his ex, short (hey I tried!) and not as much chemistry as the 1^st date, a third one just wasn’t going to happen.

Now I know the online dating thing can work for some people. I have many, many friends who met that way, some of whom are even married now (Yes Katy, I mean you!).  For many it is a lot easier than trying to pluck up (or drink down) your courage to cross a crowded bar and try to speak to a stranger. Seeing a group of guys, or girls for that matter is very intimidating and even the most confident of individuals can falter when confronted by pals out in packs. 

I did try speed dating again this week. I went into town on Wednesday and in one evening dated 13 men. I do think that seeing someone in person, actually talking face to face, is much better than messing about online. At least you can tell within a few minutes whether you’’d actually like to speak to them again ;-) I apparently have 2 matches from that night, as well as several friendship matches, so I will be a good girl and go email them when I’ve finished talking to you guys. I’m just not holding my breath.

After many months of  trying, and with rapidly flagging enthusiasm for checking my messages, I’m beginning to think that love might not be for me. Much as I’d love to experience the loving husband, white picket fence and 2.4 children (though after my week of pet-sitting, I’ve crossed faithful doggy off this list), maybe they just aren’t meant for me. That’s not to say that I’m unhappy, because I’m not. I have a good job, fabulous friends all over the world and am in fact possibly the happiest I’ve been in a very long time. I am lonely though, and I’m not sure I can resign myself to be lonely forever, even though I’m starting to think I must. I'm beginning to think that a pint of haagen daz will be my only companion

For once, I’d actually like to see some comments on this, especially from people in a similar situation. What are your experiences?