I thought I should come back and update this!
We had our baby. We had a boy. He was born at 40+4 on July 30th and he is now 7 months old.
His name is Samuel Joseph, as God said it would be. (Samuel is the 'prophet' of the blog title.)
Life is so wonderful with my little Sam-man around. I thought I might start blogging again, as a record to look back on, but honestly I am struggling to settle on something to write about.
So what has happened?
Pregnancy passed, mainly uneventfully. I grew huge. I always so longed for a bump, but when I had it, I kind of resented it. I felt so self-conscious once my pregnancy was obvious. People comment so much. I felt so peaceful, content and calm during my pregnancy; so inward focused. I wanted to hide myself away, but instead I had to go to work and interact with people who kept drawing attention to my advancing state. There were a lot of feelings I had during pregnancy and labour that I didn't acknowledge or work through, because I was so focused on surviving day to day, accepting the moment, and remaining calm and content for the well-being of the baby. (I do think my mental state during pregnancy eased his transition to the world. However, I think this would only have been improved by greater reflection during pregnancy - something I was afraid to do for fear of disturbing the balance.) I wonder whether, had I brought fears out into the light, Sam's birthing would have been easier.
What I feel he gained through my deep sense of calm throughout pregnancy, I feel he lost to my
disconnect to the birthing process and upcoming role as parent. I was so aware of the temptation to fall into anxiety during pregnancy, given the journey to get there, that I didn't look outside of the moment. I was so afraid that I might not give birth, and that I might not parent, that I didn't accept and explore either. I couldn't believe that either would actually happen. I am so proud of the way I handled labour. I am so beyond proud at how I have adapted to motherhood (my theory through pregnancy was that I would just adjust as I needed to, and really, that has happened). I am blessed to have built a breastfeeding relationship with my son easily. I have a sense of the realness, the tangibility, the omnipresence of God that I didn't before. He is no longer something I hope for. He just is. That sense is despite the lack of time and energy I gave had to invest in my faith. In that, I feel God's mercy, His grace, His forgiveness, His understanding, His compassion, His humanity. I know that He is with me, knowing how much this journey asks of me, and, amazingly, I feel His approval - such a strong sense that I am doing OK, it isn't perfect, but it's really OK... And that's awesome.
However. As I wrote, I also feel my son lost out. He lost out because I wasn't prepared. I focused a lot on the physical reality of labour, but I neglected to address the emotional transition it brings. I neglected to prepare myself for the early days of his life. I couldn't imagine going through labour, or having a newborn, and even the day I went into labour, these changes seemed so intangible, so impossible.
It took 4.5 days to birth Sam. When he arrived, I hadn't slept at all for two nights. I was so unprepared for bonding. I don't remember meeting him. I have a sense of him being in his little hospital fishbowl, sleeping in the same room as us but apart from us, and that makes me so sad. My son should have spent his first day in my arms. We should have focused on getting to know one another, and nothing else. We stayed in hospital for two days, to establish breastfeeding. Oh boy am I so glad we did that. And yet - while we were in hospital, I didn't sleep. By the time we came home, I was a shell. We spent two weeks going through the motions of being a family, entertaining visitor after visitor. And then, my husband went back to work, and I was terrified. I got into bed with Sam and took all our clothes off and just lay together. And I began to know my little boy.
Since then, we haven't looked back. I'm really amazed at how well we have bonded/attached (I have an attachment disorder!). Sometimes I second guess myself and wonder if I am deluding myself. And then I look at Sam and how he thrives and I hear God's voice.
I didn't look into parenting styles before we had Sam. I didn't want to build a picture of myself as a parent in my mind that I couldn't live up to. Overall I feel that was the best choice. Parenting is so hard; I had no concept of the pressure I would feel as a new parent, without adding expectations of perfection into the mix. I have tried to follow a basic rule, which suits both the hubster and myself, of listening to instinct. That has rather naturally led us down a path that might be described as 'Attachment Parenting', but that was an accident! I was actually really scornful of AP when Sam was born, which I feel rather silly about now, but I guess I felt threatened, and that if I looked into AP I would feel inadequate. I didn't actually look into AP until Sam was 4 months, and then I realised that we were practising it.
I am still not keen on AP as a... what... concept? I have been very influenced by attachment theory in how I parent Sam. This came about through trying to give his mental health the best start in life. (I'm not sure I can help his future mental health, and I'm sure I'll screw him up with the best, but I want to give him the very best of myself that I can.) However, I'm not keen on setting rules around being a good parent and feel that such beliefs can only lead to foolishness. Humility and remaining teachable are so important.
