When the fog lifts
When the fog lifts, I feel like superwoman. Every now and then its like I wake from some kind of anxiety-induced hibernation and all of a sudden, little things no longer threaten to send me over the edge. So the baby turns into Teddy Spaghetti when i try to fasten him into the pushchair. Fine. I’ll just wait it out, or perhaps sing wind the bobbin up or something child friendly like that. So the baby has thrown his entire dinner on the floor and is climbing out of his seat, which means that he won’t be eating again and so will be spending all night up with a bottle of SMA’s finest tonight. Fine. I’ll just go with the flow. Thats because the fog has lifted, you see.
I don’t always know when the curtains are drawn until it starts to feel like I will have to see someone if I want to get out of bed in the morning. When the fog has descended, the small things that make my baby who he is become great things. The fourth or fifth time tucking him back into his bed at three in the morning makes me cry. I’m so ashamed of not coping that I don’t tell anyone and for the first time in my life I am crying myself to sleep.
When the curtains are drawn, some days are greeted with a cold, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Sometimes I think I won’t actually get through the day at all. When the curtains are drawn I know for a fact my children don’t deserve a mother like me and that makes me sad. It makes me want to run away and let them all live freely, with happiness and laughter.
The fog can lift suddenly, without me really knowing why. All I know is that it always lifts. I have no faith in GPs anymore, since I went for help and came home with a label that made me feel sick. I never wanted a label. I only ever wanted to talk. I only ever wanted some answers. I only ever wanted to do it all again and get it right the second time.
I know that one day I will fall asleep easily and I will not dream about the things that have been waking me since my son was born. I know that eventually the fog will lift for longer and longer periods of time and eventually I will forget this feeling. I know that will happen.
When the fog lifts, I am supermum. I am happy to be. I am able to be. I am all that I want to be.