So I’ve been a bit quiet with my business recently, I’ve let my social media pages slide and I’ve been sleeping instead!
A few months ago, I was doing what I normally do, juggling two jobs, racing around, being too busy, never catching a breath, on a cycle of wake up, work, gym, food, work, sleep and repeat! I was used to it and used to being tired..it was the new norm.
Job number one is a ‘normal’ social work job- if there is such a thing. Just like any other person, I was trudging to work every day, thinking of what I needed to do! Then there was job number 2- my life sucking job of owning my own PART TIME business. But this PT business was really a full time job with no perks of a full time or for that matter a bloody part time wage either.
Nevertheless, I enjoyed it…most of the time! No really I do lol!
What wasn’t to like (most of the time)? I was my own boss, not one person telling me what I could and couldn’t do so, I could do whatever I liked, whenever the hell I liked it! Which is why I continued to do it, lack of money included. Along with that came a lot of worry…worry about money, getting people through the door…but I was getting used to that part and as Dory the forgetful fish does, I just kept bloody swimming!
The business…well it was in babies…baby massage, baby yoga, baby goods…anything BABY! Cue laughter from friends and family…and they did laugh because believe it or not, I’m not very maternal! Don’t get me wrong I like children, I just like giving them back to their original owners lol
Again what wasn’t to love? I had the luxury of meeting up with other gals and their new babies, giving them a lovely class and sending everyone on their merry way home, with a sleeping baby- as they were normally knackered after the session and I could retreat back to my house with no kids, one dog and a relatively quiet husband…oh and copious amounts of wine and shit talk lol
As I’ve said, I’ve never been the maternal type. I was that female child, who behaved like a boy, climbed trees, collected for bomb fires and threw herself into spikey bushes just for the craic. In fact, 8 weeks ago, at the ripe old age of then 32…I still rolled from the top of a Sandy’s field (Newry folk will know where this is) with my 5 year old niece…right to the bottom…just for the craic…even though I’d just found out I was pregnant! Yes…pregnant…the non-maternal wine swigging Rosemary has her first bun in the oven.
Let’s go back a bit, after a Prosecco filled night with a best friend, celebrating his lovely new house and fiancé to go with, I felt hungover in a very odd way. I had a creeping feeling that all was not right in the old creaky body. I don’t know why, but I took a notion to take a pregnancy test- one of those cheap Tesco ones where the line was so faint I could only tell that I MIGHT BE PREGGERS!
After a frantic dash around Tesco and having to explain to the confused looking cashier that I’d then stupidly bought an ovulation kit instead of a pregnancy test, in my panic, rushing home to secretly take a further 2 tests, unbeknown-st to husband…the result confirmed that I was in fact well and truly pregnant and I had well and truly shit myself.
I took the lonely walk to the kitchen with a shaky hand holding said pregnancy test and told the husband that I was in fact carrying a small baked bean sized human. Oh fucking shit!
He was over the bloody moon and in true husband style gave me a high five and celebrated that his swimmers were in fact winners! I on the other hand was still in shock and remained so throughout the day and for another week or two, between the realms of reality and coo-coo land. Everyone else behaved as normal when all along I knew things were so very different and I was not myself.
Very shortly after that ‘MY GET UP AND GO, GOT UP AND WENT!’ i.e. I wanted to do nothing except sleep, be sick and generally feel sorry for myself. No work was done, no lap top opened, minimal classes taken and most importantly minimal contact with babies! The mere sight of a baby gave me the heeby jeebies, which definitely isn’t good when you run a business focusing on children!
I don’t think many people tell you about that part. I’ve met so many new mums and generally topics of conversation are not always rosey in the garden, but I definitely never had anyone tell me about the down side of finding out you’re pregnant and how your mood flat lines alongside the awful feeling of ‘oh shit, how the hell am I going to manage a human when I forget to feed the dog?’.
And before you all lynch me…I know there are people out there who love it all and embrace the whole bloody lot…but a bit like my tom boyish earlier years, I struggle to fit into that bump loving, maternal category, especially when I feel like barfing all the time, can’t find my waistline and all I want to do is embrace a glass of wine to make it all feel a little better! Even my favourite foods were out of bounds, because my taste had got up and left the building too.
I felt like shit and I felt on my own, because according to social norms, I couldn’t bloody tell anyone ‘just in case something bad happened’…cue feeling even more shit.
My 2 best friends summed it up well, in one sitting. We met for lunch, which normally would have ended up in lunch followed by boozy day and night out. So whilst I nursed a Coke and they downed a Sauvignon Blanc and Coors Lite each, they asked how I was and noted my little bump starting to emerge. I started getting a tad emotional and they knew full well an emotional tsunami was about to happen!
For the first time, I had two best buds to myself, where I could talk frankly, no pretending, no high fiving husband and no over enthusiastic on lookers. So, I told them that I have never felt so sad and guilty for feeling so sad, in my life as I did when I found out I was pregnant because I felt like ‘I’ was gone! I told them I wasn’t quite ready to give up my name as the slightly whacky looking pink haired gal, or the Rosemary who has busted her balls to start her own business. I told them that I didn’t want to be stripped of that and to be known as someone’s Mother.
PS….I can now feel a dead silence from the readers lol
ANYWAY… Friend A says ‘But it’s a wonderful miracle and so exciting’, whilst Friend B says ‘Yes but it’s the end of her life as she knows it. I’d feel exactly the same!’ (sigh of relief…someone finally understands!!!!)
SHE HIT NAIL ON THE HEAD! And this is exactly why I have these two mad hatters in my life…they are like the angel and devil on my shoulders, yet they never ever judge.
That evening was bloody great. A weight had been lifted and the two gals proceeded to get pissed on wine and beer, as I stuck to the soft drinks! I didn’t even mind because conversation was NORMAL, not just about the baby! Frrrreeeddddooooommmm!
Yes we talked a little about it, but we talked about all kinds of other crap too and I thoroughly enjoyed watching my two buds get progressively louder, whilst the musicians in the very serious and quiet traditional session in the pub, told them both to ‘sssshhhh’.
I lasted from 3pm to around 9.15pm which I was quite proud of, in the absence of alcohol. I substituted the drink for a salt and vinegar chip, returning home to stuff my face, ironically feeling lighter than I had done in weeks! Thank the Lord for honest friendships!
So that was 2 weeks ago. Slowly but surely I am getting my head around the fact that I’m not just getting fat, but there’s an actual human in there. I can’t say that I’m fully embracing the preggers thing. I continue to avoid the baby aisle in Tesco and have been known to tell those who have told me that pregnancy is just so wonderful to ‘fuck off’ on several occasions. But on the up side…I actually walked into Mother Care without having a panic attack, even if I did leave again very swifty (baby steps…excuse the pun!) and the sickness is wavering too. Whoohoo!
But to anyone out there who is in the same boat, I hope this blog/winge/story helps…please remember that not everyone takes to it like a duck to water and that’s bloody okay too. Come join my camp and we can be dry witted, sarcastic mother -to- be’s together!
And to my two best friends…Martina and Sally Anne, THANK YOU!
Love Rosemary (Rosebag)
(slightly mad pink haired woman, who just so happens to be pregnant too)