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Steep Learning Curve
by Linda Jenner
I know I should be feeling happy. Everyone keeps telling me how
lucky I am. I’ve waited years for this. So why do I feel so miserable?
I watch Ben as he sleeps. He lies completely still with his little fists
clenched and his forehead furrowed.
A minute later I hear the first wails and I automatically tense up. Get
a grip I tell myself. He’s only a seven month old baby. I gaze with
despair at the piles of clothes, dirty and clean, that are lying on every
available surface. Ben never sleeps long enough for me to finish sorting
them.
I pick him up and try to cuddle him but he stiffens his back and arches
away from me as he cries even more loudly. As I sit down with him he draws
his legs in and then kicks them out strongly. I quickly pick up the bottle
and pop it into his open mouth. He sucks on it strongly, a welcome relief
for me from the persistent crying. I am so tired. I didn’t know
it was possible to feel this weary. Ben has been with us for a month now.
A month since I have had a good night’s sleep.
I gently try to take the bottle out of his mouth. He’s only supposed
to have a little of the milk before his solid food. He howls in protest.
I push the little plastic spoon quickly into his mouth and just as quickly
the food comes back out again as he spits it down the front of his babygro.
‘Oh please Ben, just take it for Mummy.’ I run my fingers
through my hair, not realising they are covered in the mince and carrot
mixture. He must eat I tell myself. When I took him to the baby clinic
last week he had lost weight.
So many of our friends have said how fortunate we are not to have to deal
with a newborn baby. They reckon that by six-months babies are ‘over
the worst of it’. They told me how much easier it will be to look
after a baby when I’m not suffering from all the post birth hormonal
disturbances, tiredness and stitches.
‘Come on Ben, shall we put the shapes in the box’ I say to
him as I pick up the multi coloured shape sorter but I can see his bottom
lip trembling and he is pushing the toy away as he starts crying again.
I was so happy when I heard the news that we could adopt Ben. He seemed
such a contented little chap when I first saw him with his foster mother.
She had been looking after him since he was born and said that he was
no trouble at all. When we brought him home I was over the moon. I didn’t
imagine that I could be anything other than blissfully happy for the rest
of my life.
I pick Ben up and pace up and down the living room with him hoping he
will calm down but the crying only gets louder. I catch a glimpse of myself
in the mirror. Is that really me? Only a month ago I was a successful
sales manager with my own team. Now I can see the dark roots in my straggly
blonde hair and there are marks on the shoulder of my old sweater.
It’s strange not to go to work. I’m taking adoption leave
to be a full-time mum to Ben. I suppose that in all the years when we
were hoping for a baby, years of tests, failed IVF and the like, my job
was a bit of a refuge for me. It helped to keep me sane.
I used to have a really good social life as well. The girls still ring
me up to go out but I can’t face it. I’m too tired.
I think about taking Ben for a walk. Sometimes he calms down in his pram
but yesterday he cried all the time we were out. I felt that people were
looking at me, thinking that I am a hopeless mother.
Sarah, the Social Worker from the Adoption Team says that I mustn’t
think that I am useless. Ben is just missing his foster mother and once
he settles down he will be a different baby. She keeps reminding me of
all the things she told us on our pre-adoption sessions. How it can be
difficult to start with.
Martin says I’m expecting too much of myself and Ben. He hurt me
yesterday when he said that I have to stop setting targets for myself
and Ben; ‘you are not in a sales office now Mel’. How could
he say that? I just want to make some concrete progress with everything.
You know, get Ben into a routine and things. Anyway, it’s different
for Martin. Ben smiles and puts his hands out to Martin when he comes
in from work. He never puts his hands out to me like that.
Sarah keeps reminding me that she is there for me. She keeps calling round
to ’offer support’ as she puts it. She says Ben’s foster
mother has spent years fostering young babies and I shouldn’t compare
myself with her as I’m still learning to look after a baby. I must
say that it seems to be a very steep learning curve most days.
My friend Marie says Ben is probably sensitive to change and is feeling
upset and insecure. She says that his crying is a good sign, he is trying
to communicate with me and I should just pick him up and give him a big
cuddle when he needs it. It doesn’t really help though as he doesn’t
stop crying when I pick him up. In fact he usually cries even louder.
Probably because it’s not me he wants a cuddle from.
I’ve read all the baby books. Several of them suggest that babies
may pick up on how tense you are. I’ve done all the relaxation exercises
they suggest but it hasn’t made any difference.
Holding Ben over my shoulder I’m trying to make a sandwich with
one hand and pacifying him at the same time. I take one mouthful but suddenly
feel sick and can’t face eating anymore. I often feel like this
now. Ben isn’t the only one who is losing weight. Today I am feeling
particularly bad. I woke up with a headache and it just won’t shift.
As Ben’s cries turn to continuous screaming my head throbs. If only
I could sleep for a little while. If I’d been able to have my own
baby would he have cried like this? Would I have found it easier to comfort
my own baby? I know Sarah wants to be supportive but I can’t tell
her that I’m having thoughts like this. She might think that we
are not going to be able to bond and that Ben would be better with another
family.
Ben seems to be crying louder than ever. I just wish he would shut up.
I can’t stand it any longer. I pick him up and hold him in front
of me. ‘Please Ben, please be quiet’ I beg. His reply is to
scream louder, his face red and distorted. I can feel my grip on his arms
tighten. I want to shake him. I feel so angry with him. How can so small
a baby have beaten me so completely? I am trembling with anger, crying
with frustration and fighting to get control of myself. But I know what
I have to do. I read about it in one of the baby books only yesterday.
I put Ben down in his cot and walk away, leaving him to go into the kitchen
and put the kettle on.
Suddenly I can feel the tears rolling down my face and my body shakes
with the huge sobs which seem to have come from nowhere. Now I’ve
started crying I can’t stop. A whole month of emotions seems to
flood out of my body. I lay down on the settee; too tired to keep my eyes
open a minute longer.
When I open my eyes the light is already fading but I can see Martin standing
in the doorway with Ben. I feel different, less tired, calmer and more
relaxed.
‘I’ve got someone here who wants to see you’ says Martin.
I take Ben and hold him close to me. His body is heavy with sleep. He
seems to nuzzle his face into my shoulder. I kiss the top of his head
and hold him even closer, smelling the mixture of baby shampoo and milk.
There is no sign of protest, no stiffening or arching of his back. He’s
no longer trying to fight me. He feels like a soft warm floppy rag doll.
I look up at Martin.
‘It’s all going to be all right isn’t it?’ and
he smiles and nods.
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