After birth... magic of baby

I read everything there was to read on the subject, only to discover that, while the birth itself is an awe-inspiring, soul-changing event, it is, after all, just one day. There's a lot more to come...

Not only that, but it is the one bit of being a new parent that you can plan, even if your plans don’t quite work out. And in our world, plans make us feel in control. Straight after that big day, however, I found myself at home, at sea in the two weeks after birth when everything is fuzzy with wonder. Where you can’t plan or even think straight and everything is unfamiliar.

It is so easy to talk about the sleeplessness, the practicalities of nappies, the basics of breastfeeding, but so hard to talk about the feelings of being a new parent. You’ll notice this with your friends.

As soon as you come home with a new baby, everyone goes into a strange jocular mode, saying things like, “You’ll wish you saw more movies when you could!”, “You’re going to miss peeing in private!” or “You will learn what real tiredness is.”

I think experienced mothers take refuge in these mindbendingly mundane comments (I mean, how many times have you been told about the tiredness?) because we have so few words to talk about the magic.

We shy away from talking about the otherworldly moments of new parenting because it is so personal. But in doing so, we downplay the wonder and inflate the hassle of having a newborn, which has always struck me as unfair. So I thought I’d pick out a few sensations from that period that others never tell you about.

First, there’s the way time slows around you for the first few weeks. Rationally, you know the rest of the world is going about its business as normal – driving about, make decisions, ruling the planet, whatever – but somehow, you are simply not part of it. Your world has shrunk to the size of your home. The pace of your life changes. And every time someone pops in for a cup of tea and a new-baby squeeze, you feel strangely outside the world that they bring with them. It is a calm, slow and centred space and, for many modern women, a deeply unfamiliar one.Then there is the way it takes about two weeks for your child’s name to settle.

You creep up on your sleeping baby, crane over the cot and his name is kind of floating above him, waiting to take hold. It is a terribly disarming feeling, as though a door to another realm hasn’t quite closed yet. And then, one day when you’re doing something mundane like grabbing a nappy or heating a bottle, you turn around to your baby and Ben or Joe is named.

Your child has claimed his space in this world and it is done. Watch for it. You’ll feel it, too.And then there are those unexpected flashes of magic. The deliciousness of a freshly washed newborn back, perfect yet wholly vulnerable. The wonder of cradling a tiny foot in your lap, right above where that foot was nestled inside you just days before. Little fingers that wrap around yours. The weird sense that you’ve seen this face before, in others that you love. The delight you get sniffing your baby’s hair as he naps on your breast.

Modern life has so little magic. Those first weeks with your newborn... that, to me, is as shiny as magic gets. Revel in it.