Having babies in London
The much discussed subject. Discussed to death amongst women over wine and fags or on coffee breaks at work before having to go back in and face the stress of phone calls and pressure from the boss shouting demands, demands which need to be met there and then in a moments notice. Discussed flippantly like it should be something we will all do one day, like the filing pile thats mounting up on the desk. Well get round to it and deal with it when it happens. Itll take a bit of thinking but others do it dont they?
It happened to me on a round the world trip whilst drinking rum and worrying about nothing more than where to find the next internet connection so I could upload more photos of myself with a tan.
But I was in love with the idea of becoming a mum and the fact that I lived in London and had been part of the aforementioned big discussions of whether or not to bring a baby up in London or not, didnt phase me for some reason.
When she arrived she arrived into the cleanest house in Shepherds Bush I think. Everything was prepared and I mean everything. Except me. I knew as we all do that Id need to get up a few times a night to feed her and also knew a routine would be good, but I dont think I had quite grasped what that meant.
It meant that Id be woken 3 times a night, within the space of 8 hours to feed for more than 45 minutes at a time and then spend 30 minutes getting her back to sleep, all in the dead of night trying to keep quiet for the sleeping working husbands sake, all in the freezing cold with my shoulders and chest bare, all on my own, except of course for her tiny face looking up at mine in the dark.
It meant walking endlessly around shepherds Bush with the pram with an acute awareness of exactly (exactly) what time it was and what time I would like it to be, as I tried desperately to drill some sort of routine into her little head so I could plan a shower into my day again.
It meant so many things that were never discussed at those endless discussions over long gone wine and fags and coffee breaks before going back to cope with the what now seems like a very temperate and un pressured environment at work. At least the boss shouted demands which needed to be met there and then at a reasonable hour of the day and not at 245am. And the phone ringing constantly is a sound I could quite cope with happily over the sound of a crying baby.
All said however, the endless discussions over babies never touched either on how much happiness and self assurance it could possibly bring too. And certainly not how much benefit it could be do it all in an inner London Borough like Shepherds Bush. The reality of it has been surprising. Ive never felt more supported and secure having met so many other mothers at so many different groups and centers which have been set up and designed specifically fro this purpose, in my local area. Also, Ive got to know my area and the people who make it what it is so much better from walking around so much attached to my pram.
A year on, I know that I will always look back on this past year with great fondness and affection, not only for my new found motherhood, but for what my area has done in helping me love it as much as I have.
I have started a collection of artworks from this time, which started from an urge just to record what my life had become, but which has now developed into a real passion and commitment, one which I would love to continue with end develop.
web.me.com/louisa.cookson
It happened to me on a round the world trip whilst drinking rum and worrying about nothing more than where to find the next internet connection so I could upload more photos of myself with a tan.
But I was in love with the idea of becoming a mum and the fact that I lived in London and had been part of the aforementioned big discussions of whether or not to bring a baby up in London or not, didnt phase me for some reason.
When she arrived she arrived into the cleanest house in Shepherds Bush I think. Everything was prepared and I mean everything. Except me. I knew as we all do that Id need to get up a few times a night to feed her and also knew a routine would be good, but I dont think I had quite grasped what that meant.
It meant that Id be woken 3 times a night, within the space of 8 hours to feed for more than 45 minutes at a time and then spend 30 minutes getting her back to sleep, all in the dead of night trying to keep quiet for the sleeping working husbands sake, all in the freezing cold with my shoulders and chest bare, all on my own, except of course for her tiny face looking up at mine in the dark.
It meant walking endlessly around shepherds Bush with the pram with an acute awareness of exactly (exactly) what time it was and what time I would like it to be, as I tried desperately to drill some sort of routine into her little head so I could plan a shower into my day again.
It meant so many things that were never discussed at those endless discussions over long gone wine and fags and coffee breaks before going back to cope with the what now seems like a very temperate and un pressured environment at work. At least the boss shouted demands which needed to be met there and then at a reasonable hour of the day and not at 245am. And the phone ringing constantly is a sound I could quite cope with happily over the sound of a crying baby.
All said however, the endless discussions over babies never touched either on how much happiness and self assurance it could possibly bring too. And certainly not how much benefit it could be do it all in an inner London Borough like Shepherds Bush. The reality of it has been surprising. Ive never felt more supported and secure having met so many other mothers at so many different groups and centers which have been set up and designed specifically fro this purpose, in my local area. Also, Ive got to know my area and the people who make it what it is so much better from walking around so much attached to my pram.
A year on, I know that I will always look back on this past year with great fondness and affection, not only for my new found motherhood, but for what my area has done in helping me love it as much as I have.
I have started a collection of artworks from this time, which started from an urge just to record what my life had become, but which has now developed into a real passion and commitment, one which I would love to continue with end develop.
web.me.com/louisa.cookson
Article Source: http://www.articlealley.com/article_1244122_40.html
Ask a Question about this Article
