"My life is now her life"

For writer, Lottie Lewis, embracing a slower pace of life was the key to enjoying the first few months of motherhood. She opens up about the challenging early days and how she found her rhythm and began to love her new normal.

Photos: Megan Hemsworth
Words: Lottie Lewis

Bonnie is undoubtably the best thing that has ever happened to me. Being launched into motherhood somewhat by surprise, I can now say that it has been my biggest blessing. However, in those first few months, riding through the fourth trimester, I didn’t know how to respond when people asked “are you loving it?”. Loving Bonnie, yes. Loving being a mum, I wasn’t so sure. The newborn bubble, the cuddles, the feeling of finally looking into the eyes of the little human that had been growing in my tummy for the past 9 months, was, of course, amazing. But it was hard to “enjoy every moment” when my colicky baby screamed from morning ’til night, wouldn’t allow me to ever put her down and would only settle through contact naps. I have always been fiercely independent, loved my own space and coveted peace and quiet. Suddenly I was never alone, had this enormous responsibility, and our house was a very loud place to be. My morning sea swims, a simple dog walk and even doing the weekly shop seemed like a lifetime ago, and I found myself both mourning my old life and fighting to recover it.

I’d text my midwife, asking if all the screaming was normal, if there was something I could do to help, what was I doing wrong? She assured me the first 3 months were the hardest, the crying would reach a peak and then settle. Friends and family members consistently reminded me “this too shall pass”, it’s a phase, it can’t last forever. I held Bon in the rocking chair, tears rolling down both our cheeks. The days felt long. The nights felt longer. The cluster feeding was relentless. I missed surfing. I missed dog walks. I missed working on my hard-earned business. I missed drinking wine with my friends. I missed the sunset.

So, to combat all these feelings of loss, I refused to let go. I carted Bonnie around, in and out of the car seat and the sling, constantly on the go, passing her around to every member of our families. She came to the beach, the cafes, the office, the shops. I was desperate to recreate some normality, all the while oblivious to wake windows and still healing from birth.

During those first 3 months postpartum, the fourth trimester, it’s said that a baby still thinks they are a part of their mother. New to this life, they’ve only ever existed in a dark, quiet, warm and watery world that smells, feels and tastes exactly like you. With this in mind, birth must be pretty traumatic for the baby too: who are these people? Why is it so bright and cold? How do I survive without being attached to my life source? No wonder they cry every time you put them down or leave the room. The more I did in those first precious weeks, the more upset Bonnie seemed to get. Whilst I thought I was introducing her to the world, she apparently had no interest in it. She was happy only when we were tucked up in bed, skin to skin, feeding or sleeping.

“Maybe you’re just doing too much?” was a question posed by both my mum and my boyfriend Charlie, post-meltdown (both Bonnie and I). “But I don’t want to do nothing!” I explained. It was the summer, everyone was out living their best lives and I was sleep deprived, anxious, adjusting to my new body and desperate not to lose my old self. But deep down I knew I couldn’t continue so unsustainably. I had to give in.

I don’t remember the exact day I surrendered. When I let go of the maiden and became the mother. Maybe it was gradual, or maybe one day I just woke up and decided that I was chasing something no longer within my reach. But as I felt the fourth trimester drawing to a close, I slowed down. I stopped rushing out of the door the moment Bon woke up and instead put a morning routine in place where we simply stayed in bed until the first nap of the day, feeding, singing, coaxing out little smiles, listening to her sweet new sounds. I discovered mum hacks that allowed me to feel more like myself but still keep Bon close: showering with her bouncer in the bathroom, popping her in the sling for naps and working at my laptop standing up, parking the buggy on the shoreline and swimming in the shallows on warm, sunny mornings.

I also stopped pushing myself to achieve everything I could previously pack into a day. I began celebrating the small wins: taking the dog for a walk, preparing dinner, meeting a friend for coffee, a calm car journey. I swapped swimming lengths for baby yoga and wild hikes for daily ambles. I no longer raced from one place to the next, but embraced a slower pace, and we were all much happier for it. I used all my new found time to truly appreciate what was happening, and be present for every tiny milestone that we hit. We felt more rested. Life was less chaotic. Bonnie began laughing. I felt like laughing again. The dust settled and we found our rhythm.

Talking with new mums really helped as well. Instagram can make you feel as if everyone else has their shit together, their hair is washed, their kids never cry. It’s important to remember that social media is a highlight reel. If you actually get into conversation with new mums (and long-time mums!) they will often readily admit that they also have their struggles, and quite often help you to see the funny side. The more mum-friends I made, the more I realised that most of us don’t manage to sleep through the night, we all at one point suffered with the baby blues and each of us laughed and cried in equal measure that day, too.

Whilst we still have hectic moments, I feel like everyday is now steadily just getting better and better. I’ve let go of any need to achieve and relaxed into a state of simply existing alongside my baby. My life is now her life. This week the sun finally came out and I went for a walk through the village. Bon strapped to my front, dog lead in one hand, smoothie in the other. I bumped into a girl I knew and she commented, “Wow, being a mum is elite.” It made me realise how far I’d come, and how recently life felt so much easier. I was living my new normal and I was loving it.