Eventually a buggy-rage incident brought matters to a head

Last updated: 08/04/2015 16:24 by DeirdreODonovan to DeirdreODonovan's Blog
Filed under: MummyBloggers
For some of us, becoming a mum is not the blissful experience we expect.
 
I’ll never forget the day we took our son home, nine years ago. As we left the hospital with our little bundle of joy, we both kind of stopped and hovered at the entrance - wasn’t someone going to step in and point out that we had no idea what we were doing? No one would let me sit in a car for the first time and drive off after just reading a manual, would they?
 
But there we were, armed with all the answers because we had read every pregnancy book in print – including one which claimed all pregnant women become lesbians and some orgasm while giving birth. 
 
I honestly don’t remember much about those first few weeks, except mourning the fact that it seemed I would never be able to just pick up my coat and keys and walk out the door again. It was a very difficult time spent in tracksuits and tears. And never once did I think to ask for help. 
 
As a career woman, I was driven and focused. Coming from a working-class background, I felt I had to work harder than those around me to make my mark. Nothing could stop me – until I discovered that 9lb baby boys don’t read memos or follow schedules.  Here was a situation I couldn’t manage by being focused. 
 
Eventually we reached my beautiful baby boy (BB) and me reached a truce, and once I got back into my jeans (about seven months after he arrived) and into a routine, I started to feel like my old self again. I returned to work and got pregnant straight away, confident we had this parenting thing down.
 
But we hadn’t bargained on a beautiful girl (BG) with an immature digestive system who nearly destroyed me. No-one tells you how much harder baby number two is. You have to survive all that a newborn brings while trying to entertain someone who is devoted to perfecting The Terrible Twos. 
 
I still don’t know how we survived BG’s first year. Feeding was a nightmare and she cried constantly, first from hunger, then once food hit her tummy, she would instantly fill with wind and it would take an hour to try and get it up, while she screamed with a mixture of hunger and pain. Dora kept BB going while care packages of contraband Gripe Water from a friend’s dear mum in Derry were my only hope. 
 
We took BG to specialists looking for help – but because she continued to thrive we were told that she could eventually grow out of it and were sent home with no solutions or support. BG was never in any danger but for a mum, not being able to comfort or nourish your child is a living hell. And still, I never asked for help. 
 
Eventually a buggy-rage incident brought matters to a head and hubby had to step in. I had a loan of a double buggy – one of those long ones where the kids sit in front of each other. It wasn’t used very much, so I wasn’t used to the dimensions. After a very difficult morning surviving on about 20 minutes of sleep, BB was refusing to get his shoes on to go to playschool. We were dead late and had to throw both kids into the buggy.
 
After dropping BB off, my plan was to get BG to sleep for even a few minutes, so I could get some much needed peace. Off I set pounding the pavement until I reached a very narrow road with an even narrower path, where a car was pulling out of the driveway, blocking the footpath.
 
On an ordinary day this is at best irritating, but today I had had enough and was making a stand for mums everywhere. In my addled brain meant to just stop the buggy short of the car in a kind of protest; instead I ended up ramming the side of the car with the buggy.  As the driver stared at me with a mixture of confusion and fear, I burst into tears while ranting about buggy right-of ways. 
 
I had learned a hard lesson that I needed to be kind to myself, and had to ask for help. It didn’t mean I had let my children down just because I couldn’t cope with a very difficult and overwhelming situation. Anyone would have struggled with what we were going through, and once I let go of the compulsion to try and control BG’s situation, life moved on. 
 
It was completely different to what we had imagined and much better in many ways - and now I use that experience to help people as a County Councillor. Given what we have all endured during these past few years, a little bit of kindness is what’s desperately needed.  
 
Mum-of-two Deirdre O’Donovan is an Independent county councillor, living in South Dublin with her IT consultant husband. Deirdre was a successful journalist, but following the birth of her second child in 2007, her career came to an abrupt end when her baby’s digestive issues meant she couldn’t return to work. Thanks to her ‘Army of Mums’ she was elected to South Dublin County Council last May and now works full-time assisting constituents and community groups within the Rathfarnham constituency.
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