So a couple of weekends ago we attended the wedding of our close friends. We had been looking forward to, and expecting it, for a long while before. Whilst pregnant with The Lamb we had already planned we wouldn’t be taking her with us, we would be staying over the night and that my mum would look after The Lamb.
When I was pregnant this was fine. I couldn’t wait to drink again and was imagining how I would skip merrily away blowing a kiss to my baby, eagerly anticipating a baby free night/drinking session and lie in. Bliss. I did not factor into the equation that when it actually got round to it, I wouldn’t want to leave her…
Connie has never spent a night away from me in another house before. I’ve stayed round other houses with her, I’ve gone out in the evening for a few hours and had my mum or Andy look after her at my home; but I’ve never left her for a full day and night at someone else’s house.
As the day approached I started to feel a familiar sense of dread and started trying to work out if I could actually bring her along too.
Then I realised what that would actually entail. I would have to bring her pram for naps, 5 sterilised bottles to see me through the day, boiled water, formula for 5 feeds in the day and 2 feeds the next morning, which of course, would mean bringing the steriliser along to clean the bottles over night. Not to mention multiple nappies, wipes, bibs, bath stuff, changes of clothes and a moses basket, musical turtle, piglet and grobag.
And what would I do with her? She sleeps for 2 1/2 hours 12.00-2.30pm, only the time the bride is due to walk down the aisle, I think she might be rather miffed if I asked her to keep the noise down for my sleeping child and once she’s awake she’s at that age where she’s not content to sit in a pram but can’t walk; she prefers to roll.
Mental images of my 5 month old rolling around a wedding venue, picking up and licking god knows what and shoving it in her mouth doesn’t inspire joy in me I can tell you…
Toys, numerous toys, would be brung along and lost, no doubt, and finally I would have to leave the wedding at 5.30pm, harassed and knackered, in order to get back to the hotel in time for bath, bottle and bed, which means I would also have to add the car seat to my growing entourage of baby equipment.
Two words? Ball ache.
So bringing The Lamb along was a definite no. Id rather stick needles in my eyes than experience that, truth be told.
For some reason the thought of physically handing her over and driving away made me feel worse about myself, so my mum came and picked her up from ours in the morning. I knew she would more than be cared for by my mum so that wasn’t a worry. The worry was that she would need me and I wouldn’t be there. Irrational? Yes, but I’m a mum and we worry about these things!
When it boiled down to it, I had a fantastic time at the wedding. It was beautiful, the bride was gorgeous, the food was incredible and the company was awesome! Apart from the occasional maternal pang of longing I didn’t dwell on The Lamb too much, ringing my mum only once to check how her day had been.
Still, I woke at 7.30am the next morning, despite not going to sleep until gone 3am- damn my stupid body clock! I could not get back to sleep so my thoughts immediately returned to my daughter and how odd it was that I wasn’t hearing her gurgling her morning song.
Hungover, voice gone and aching from tiredness (Connie sleeps 7.30-7.30/9.00am so I’m not used to less than 8 hours a night!) I was looking forward to seeing my daughters smiling excited face- surely she would be gleeful once she saw me after a whole day of being without?
Not so much. It turns out children are fickle bastards after all…
I got a brief smile but the Little Madame was much more interested in tugging Grandmas hair. I can’t say I blame her for not pining for me though, no doubt she was spoilt rotten and pampered for the whole day!
Moral of the story? Try and enjoy the child free moments, because they’re sure as hell enjoying their parent free ones!