I'd been looking forward to this weekend. A family meal to celebrate mum's 70th birthday. The fact that her birthday was in January did not matter. We've always said she looked a little like the queen and now she was having two birthdays just like her too.
The last time we were all together was at my wedding, nearly 3 years ago. When I realised this I was shocked but there is good reason why we don't all get together very often. Logistics play a huge part with representatives in Scotland, Wales and England it is not always easy, added to that we all now have children (some much older with jobs) so it is hard to get calendar dates clear and a place big enough for us all to commune. But let's not pretend, there is also a pinch of family squabbles and tension and that's before we even arrived!
I was already stressed from a night in Leeds where Tilly didn't sleep terribly well and also slept in our bed so I was aching from sleeping in a strange position all night.
We arrived at the hotel (which had a beautiful view of Cumbria) and saw Simon, Lynne and the boys. Tilly was good at this point, she'd just woken up. It was hot and we were sitting outside, in the shade. Sarah, PK, Oli, Ro, Biddy and Lulu arrived next. Then Karl, Lulu, Felix and Rufus, followed by mum, uncle John and Auntie Prue. Last to arrive was Claire, Andrew, George, Harry and Bear. We had descended on this peaceful hotel in Cumbria and taken over the outside space. Tilly was quite quickly taken from me then passed around some more. I didn't quite know what to do with myself when I wasn't holding her. It's the first time I've really 'let go'. I hung around awkwardly around my own baby. There was so much going on, people arriving, getting up in her face. By the time mum arrived she was already a little crotchety. The last time I saw mum, I was crotchety and I wanted to show her that I'm OK and look at my lovely daughter, but instead Tilly started to grizzle, then wriggle, then cry. I, in turn started to get stressed.
I'm the youngest and therefore will always be the last to do things. I was surrounded by my siblings who between them have 11 children. A huge weight of personal pride came crashing down and I was getting more and more uptight about looking like an incapable mother in front of those I want to show the most that I can do it. Especially my mum. Tilly has been wonderful for the last 5 days, a real joy and we've been getting on better than ever, but now the time that I want her to behave the most she does the opposite. I know it is not her fault: the heat, the fuss, the amount of new faces, smells, environment and no doubt the vibes she was picking up from me probably made her get more anxious. I decided to take her off into one of the rooms inside to get a little cooler, give her some quiet time and change her nappy. She continued to cry and cry and cry. I, in turn got more and more stressed inside, trying to smile, trying to pretend that I was coping with this whereas inside I was screaming to myself "what is wrong? please don't do this now, to me, not here". I moved her from the room we were in into an even cooler one and she had a dirty nappy, it had gone on her vest and I was at breaking point. I was squatting to change her on the floor in a dark corner (as they didn't have a changing room). People were walking past and I just wanted them to go away. I didn't want them to talk about Tilly and what a horror she was. I wanted them to go away thinking she was a little cutie, and see that I was coping. But there I was slowly getting more stressed and as the tension seared through my back, the tears started to form in my eyes. I couldn't see what I was doing through the tears, Tilly was screaming on the floor, naked apart from a nappy. I was desperately rifling through my changing bag looking for a spare vest. Trying so hard to find it quickly I was practically throwing the rest of the contents everywhere. Richard came to help me calm down but I was past it and we ended up arguing in hushed tones. I managed to get a vest on her and took her to yet another cooler place, she was still screaming. I sat down to breastfeed her. As she started to feed I looked down, both her legs were bright red, one was almost purple. I still hadn't quite calmed down from before and this tipped me over into complete hysteria. We were in some hotel in the middle of Cumbria and I had a small baby with one purple leg, screaming (with what now in my mind was agonising pain). Where was the nearest hospital? I hadn't got any Calpol with me. Tilly continued to scream, as I sat over unable to do anything to make her stop with floods of tears rolling down my face, calling to Richard to get someone quickly. Richard was worried too but kept calmer and asked who would be helpful. Claire. Claire would be helpful. She is always calm.
While all that was happening, the rest of the family had gone to start the dinner that we had all gathered for. Richard returned with Claire. Tilly was screaming again and I was sobbing uncontrollably as I just didn't know what to do and was stressed beyond belief. Claire started talking calmly and stroked Tilly's leg. I'd stopped crying and she told me to try to continue feeding. Tilly took it and as the calm that Claire had brought in with her descended on us both, the redness in Tilly's leg disappeared. Tilly was almost asleep, probably exhausted from the whole shambles and I sat sobbing once more. Relief that nothing was wrong with her seemed to have triggered another bucket full of tears. I ate my starter with Richard in the hall. I tried to regain my composure and eventually entered the dining room to join the others.
Eventually I got Tilly down to sleep in her pram and went outside to join the others. It wasn't long before she was awake again. I'd been praying that when she woke up she'd be lovely, but she wasn't. She was a grumpy baby all afternoon and spent the whole time either crying, screaming or being shusshed to sleep.
Tilly started crying again, and I started to feel a little awkward once more as I hung around, wanting to let people hold her but still a ball of stress that they'd see I couldn't cope if I couldn't make her quiet. Sarah paced up and down the gardens with her, bouncing continuously and shusshing. Everyone commented that I was just the same as a baby and Sarah did the same with me. But Tilly is not normally like this. Why did no one seem to believe me? I wanted mum to spend time with Tilly. I wanted Tilly to be lovely but this wasn't the right time or place.
I was getting agitated. In addition to this, I feel fat and frumpy. My skin has never been great and this weekend it flared up and I had a spot/scab on my chin - nice! At a quieter moment when I'd finally started to relax a little Sarah came up to me and asked me what's happening to my chin. It wasn't the fact that she asked but it made me feel immediately self conscious. At school and college I've always had spots. It has always made me feel self-conscious and it doesn't help with my confidence. Sarah's comment whisked me back to school memories of being bullied.
PK started calling for a family photo (not perfect timing having been just reminded how ugly I was looking) and with that I was off to the loo. I tried to apply some more make up so at least it wouldn't show in the photos, after all this photo could be the last one of us all together for another few years. It wasn't working but the photo wouldn't be a close up so maybe it'd be OK. I went back outside trying to put on a brave face - I was having a shit day.
Everyone had assembled already on the steps. Sarah had Tilly fast asleep in her arms, on the other side of the group was Richard. I was torn, do I stand with my husband or my baby? I wanted to stand with both. But the rush was on to take the photo and there wasn't time for discussion - there were small children there who were getting fractious. I wanted to stand in the family photo with my own little family, with my husband and my baby, not on my own in the middle.
Tilly woke up shortly afterwards and I had her back, albeit briefly. She was crying once again, and once again many others came forward with promises of 'the gift' to shushh her. After a succession of people, she was returned to me, still crying. Once again I was tense. I felt like I was being watched. Where has this demon of a baby come from? Is she really part of our family? Why can't her own mother get her soothed?
I was exhausted by now. My frustration and tension levels were at an all time high and I wanted to leave. This was supposed to be a great family get together and it was a living hell for me, but more as a result of my own insecurities than anything else.
I was glad to get in the car and head off to our campsite. We weren't camping though - we were wig wamming!
No comments:
Post a Comment