My youngest was nearly one. The mythical “sleeping-through” remained mythical. And from the accounts of my new mum girlfriends, we had all been fed the same fantasy. None of us were getting a full eight hours. My very bones were weary with tiredness. It was impossible to fathom how we could continue and yet we all did. I yearned, yearned for rest.

I remember talking to mum about it. How weary I was. My dear mother has a way of seeing herself in every story. So she told me about how tired she was. As an aside, if you’d like to frustrate a person to tears, be a person without a baby telling a person with a baby how tired you are. Of course, new parents don’t have the monopoly on exhaustion, but for the love of all that’s holy – just give it to them. They are honestly only just hanging on.

And while my mothers “empathy” rankled she then said something that gave me pause “sometimes I wish for just a short stay in hospital, nothing serious of course, just a little rest.” Read more…