Parenting with Anxiety

I have always been of a nervous disposition, ever since I was a child. I was shy, withdrawn, paranoid and socially awkward. There was a reason for this, it's not one that I wish to share just yet (if at all). As I got older, left school and went to college, I pushed through it all and for a few years, managed to grab ahold of some semblance of a normal life, free from irrational and unfounded fears. I say 'free', I still dreaded going to work, thinking I was in trouble. I'd done nothing wrong, I liked my job, it paid well, and had been given no warning that I was in trouble...yet every shift, I had butterflies thinking that I had forgotten/missed something.

It's a horrible, horrible way to live and sabotaged many an opportunity. 

Looking back, I'm impressed with myself, with what I achieved and the progression I made in my career before becoming pregnant with Moo, I handled some difficult things whilst working with children and I know that the me now would struggle with some of the things I encountered back then. Looking at myself now, I wouldn't think I was the same person.

My first pregnancy wasn't so bad, but once she was born, I was struck with the most awful fear of everything. The first night I brought her home, I cried for about half-an-hour worrying over her inverted jaw and whether or not she'd be bullied at school. I barely slept the first week for fear of SIDS and I'm sure that it was exhaustion that got me through the first six months of her life with sleep. I couldn't get down the stairs without imagining falling and dropping her, of hurting her...and then as she grew, it expanded to myself. I find it difficult to walk down the street for fear of falling into the road, I don't drive for fear I might have an accident and harm someone else...a rarely eat when alone in the house in case I choke...becoming a mother brought a whole new realm of fear to my life...one that has upped it's game since having a second baby. The constant fear of the dreaded SIDS is back, despite my religious following of all of the advice and guidelines...I still imagine falling down the stairs, or my new one, dropping him over the banister in the dark and the butterflies in my tummy when I think I'm in 'trouble' extend to all destinations...friends and relatives houses included.

I know that mental-health problems are quite openly discussed in parenting circles and I do talk to my parent friends about my anxiety but it doesn't stop me from feeling like a failure and it doesn't stop the constant paranoid that any day, any second, I could lose one or both of them to something I can't protect them from.

I wish I could tell you what my coping mechanisms are, how I control it...but I homestly don't have an answer...I just do. I have two options; collapse into a puddle of quivering fear on the floor and try to hide from it all, or I can stand up tall, accept that what happens, will happen and be the best mother I can be to the children that I chose to bring into the world. I get up, I go to work, I earn my money and set an example to the people that I selfishly gave birth to. I show them that you can overcome your past, that you can get through things and that having a problem, doesn't mean hat your life has to stop, in fact, it should dive you harder to carry on.

I'm not a gracious loser and yes, I live in fear constantly, but I like to think that I parent with the best of them! I am winning at this and my anxiety knows it...and is running scared!

Clare

The Second Child

Having a baby is a big change in anyone's life; whether it's your first or your fifth. Towards the end of my pregnancy with Bear, I started to worry that I might not be able to love him as much as I loved Moo. The love I have for my daughter, as with any parent and child, is immeasurable and I struggled to understand how I could possibly have room in my heart or another.

When he was born. I'll be honest, put my hands up and say, that or the first hour I was in such shock from the birth, I didn't know how I felt when I looked at him. I wasn't over-whelmed with love or emotion when I gazed at him, though I know that I loved him, was proud of him...but it didn't come flooding over me like it had our first, perhaps it was the trauma, I don't know. Whatever it was, it quickly passed and I love the little squidge with everything that I have.

It's hard, having a second baby. Harder than having the first...emotionally and physically. When Moo was born I could sit and stare at her for hours with nowhere to be, nothing to do...just sit in with her or go for a walk with her...but with Bear I don't have that luxury...I have to divide my attention, attempt to maintain constant and steady stimulation to a toddler and be every thing I was before, plus more!  I am still my daughter's teacher, dresser, put-to-bedder, chef, entertainer and everything in between whilst breast-feeding and bonding with a new baby who needs me. 

When I was younger I used to look after a brother and sister. She was the eldest at seven, he was five and I remember the favouritism being so apparent that some days it would bring me to tears to witness. Their mother adored the son, showered him with love and praise whilst the daughter was constantly left on the outside. I hated their mother for it and now more so as a parent myself. Now the mother of two, I understand slightly how and why she felt that way; it is so, so easy to get cross and impatient with your eldest when a new baby comes along. Moo has been trying at times in the past week, waking in the night and refusing to go back to bed because I'm up with her brother, or blatantly not listening to instructions...and let's not even discuss the lack of bladder control that's suddenly taken over her. Team that with the hormones, the sleep deprivation and exhaustion of being a new mum, I've never been such an impatient parent in my life (well, maybe the last days of pregnancy). I'm struggling emotionally because as soon as I snap at her, I instantly regret it, the guilt takes over. The other day she was in the throws of a colossal tantrum and I shouted 'bed' at her so loudly, I frightened myself. When your eldest is behaving like that, and then you have this perfect little baby that does no wrong, it is so, so easy to wish you could just get away from the 'naughty' one for a few minutes.

That's not the parent I want to be, that's not the parent that I am. How do people do it? I have a new-found respect for single mothers and the parents of large families...I genuinely don't know how I would cope without my husband (and because of his work, he's around a lot).

I spend a huge portion of my day sat worrying over whether or not I'm good enough a parent to do this. Am I? Does it get easier or will I get better? I try so hard to be a good mother to both, to encourage Moo and show her thati love her as much as I always have, and she is a very happy child, but I worry.

It does get easier, right?

Clare