The first inkling I had that having a baby would change my life, and challenge my need for control and routine, was when my water broke at 9pm on Christmas Day.
Erin had been expected on January 5, and not when my gynaecologist was on holiday in Ballito and when midwives weren’t available.
Every pregnancy book warns that having a baby will change everything. But it is not until you actually walk out of those hospital doors, away from the cocooned safety of the labour ward, that reality slaps you hard in the face.
I soon realised that I was responsible for a 3.4kg little being who relied on me for everything.
Although I had read numerous baby books during my pregnancy, I still felt completely helpless when I brought her home.
Well-meaning relatives and friends offered advice, but this just added to the confusion. We were told by some to never wake a sleeping baby, while others said routine had to be established from the get-go.
It was like running through a parenting minefield blindfolded.
But instinct does eventually kick in, and we started to trust that we would make the best choices for our baby.
However, it took a good while for me to accept that my time was no longer my own.
The word “just” was erased from my vocabulary the second the umbilical cord was snipped. Never again will I “just” pop out to the shops, or “just” catch up on Desperate Housewives while indulging in a glass of wine on the couch.
Nutritious meals have been replaced by bites of whatever I can clutch in one hand while I prepare bottles with the other.
A trip to the shops takes more planning than a military evacuation from the Sudan. It is not just about the sheer volume of stuff that somehow needs to be packed. It seems that as soon as I prepare to leave the house, toting a bag of nappies, a change of clothing and enough food, baby thinks it’s a great time to pass a bowel movement.
This stalls the departure so that she can be cleaned and changed. But once that is done, she loudly reminds me that it’s time for a feed.
Before I know it, hours have passed and I have lost my will to leave the house.
Having a baby has been a massive learning curve for my husband and me.
We are both busy, social people who like to do things on a whim. We used to love going out for impromptu dinners, having lazy sundowners after work and heading off to the coast for long weekends. It has been difficult for us to accept that we can no longer do this, or that doing so takes a bit more planning.
A short trip anywhere involves packing an assortment of bottles, nappies and baby gear.
We no longer choose a restaurant because of its sushi menu or its stylish décor. Now we need to know if the pram will fit between the tables and whether there is a changing station in the bathroom.
I have still not braved a grocery shop on my own as I don’t know how I am going to juggle baby, the nappy bag and the trolley.
The nappy bag is another adjustment. A note to pregnant women: choose your nappy bag wisely. It will become your main accessory for the next year at least. I gaze longingly at my beautiful Polo bag every time I sling my functional, canvas nappy bag over my shoulder.
Another thing I miss is sleep. People jokingly advise pregnant women to sleep during their nine months of pregnancy. Only now do I realise what sage advice this was. Sleep is now a rare commodity.
My biggest indulgence used to be a massage or a good chick flick. Now I would kill for just five hours of uninterrupted sleep.
Having a baby also changes your relationship with your partner. Not only are you sleeping apart, catching some shut-eye at different times, but it may take a while for you to settle into your respective new roles.
Caring for a baby takes team work. You have to take turns doing the killer 2am feed and changing the toxic nappies. It can be taxing on even the strongest of relationships.
My husband and I try to spend a few hours alone each week. This is usually just a coffee or a walk with the dog. But during this time we avoid talking about the baby and how many times she drank in the night. It’s important that we still connect as a couple, and not just as parents.
Although I love every second of being a new mother, I have to admit that at times I have felt trapped.
Being with a newborn can feel a bit like groundhog day. I know exactly what my day will hold, every day. It usually starts with an early-morning feed and then a prayer that she will nap long enough for me to grab a quick shower. Most of the day will involve cleaning bottles, feeds and nappy changes. I was surprised to discover how exhausting this routine can be, and how much I miss being able to go to work and interact with the “outside world”.
But then, a few weeks ago, Erin started to smile. And now she belly-laughs when I change her and turns her head in my direction when she hears my voice. I never realised that I would feel such intense emotion for another being.
I am learning her facial expressions and her quirks. She loves having her hair stroked but does not like to be disturbed when she is drinking her bottle. She is not grumpy first thing in the morning, but she can be obstreperous if she has not had an afternoon nap.
My interests have also changed. I have ditched the Cosmopolitan magazine and now buy Living and Loving. I spend time on the internet reading about baby milestones and activities to stimulate her mental development.
And while I still love my Bikram yoga, I now get as much enjoyment from baby massage classes.
I thought I loved my husband before our baby was born, but my heart wants to explode when I see him tenderly holding her.
She has already managed to wrap him around her finger, and I love seeing how proud he is to be her father.
They sometimes fall asleep together on the couch, she nestled in his large arm like a precious doll, and I feel as if I have it all.
I may not have time to read anything longer than a magazine article or watch a movie uninterrupted, but I get to watch this amazing little person grow up. I get to see her discover her feet and hands, and how the world works.
I get to hear her first word and observe her first tottering steps. I never thought that this would be enough. But it is.
My life has changed completely, but I would not have it any other way. - The Star