Hakavai turned one a couple of weeks ago.
I know, it’s crazy. I think it goes without saying but it’s been a pretty big year.
Throughout it all, I tried to find pockets of time to jot down my thoughts about how I was feeling and how life had changed.
It ended up sort of becoming a letter to Hakavai, which, if you’ll indulge me, I wanted to share with you ……
The night I found out I was pregnant with you, I stayed up until 3am, eating the leftover cake from my sister-in-law’s wedding.
I remember having that universal thought: “Will I be any good at this?”
And of course, my competitive nature had already kicked in, rearing its head for the battle of motherhood ?
A loud and persistent “Wah wah wah” entered my head, as loud and persistent as a kid playing the trombone at school assembly.
“Can someone shut that kid up?!”
That was my immediate thought, irritated that some baby had the audacity to rouse me from my slumber. And then the panicked realisation hit me – “That’s actually MY kid!” ??
To be fair, I’d only given birth to you a few hours earlier – it takes some getting used to! ?
Coming home was a bit of a shock.
The never-ending carousel of visitors wanting cups of tea (“Oh, do you have herbal?”), my loud family, my sleep-deprived partner and, unexpectedly, the amount of undivided attention you needed on a minute-by-minute basis.
In the first few weeks I didn’t want to be left alone with you. I was paranoid that somehow I would accidentally kill you. That I would drop you, or that an eagle would swoop down and steal you or that an intruder would kidnap you or that you would die in your sleep. Reading that now it sounds awfully macabre but at the time those thoughts were all very real to me.
Your Dad was so bloody capable and perfect in those first few weeks. It was annoying (you must know by now that he has a tendency to be irritatingly perfect). And to be honest, I was a bit jealous. Michael was always so unruffled and sure of himself. Whereas I was always double guessing myself with you. “Are you warm enough? I don’t know. What’s your temperature? Google says it should be xxx degrees but it is xxx degrees. Maybe I’ll call the doctor. Or should I try and cool you down a bit by making a homemade fan out of a towel? Maybe I’ll do this for 5 mins. Actually I’ll check your temperature somewhere else. Google says to check the temp in your anus???? Right. OK, I’ll call Mum. OK, Mum just told me to call an ambulance so now I’m confused AF.”
From those early days, our relationship has grown from strength to strength.
You’re very active. It’s exhausting. But on the upside, it’s given me an understanding of what Michael goes through with me ?
You love your building blocks, your hammer and pegs and your watering can.
You love taking things out of cupboards and putting them back again. You adore broccoli. But that’s tempered with an affinity for cheese and foie gras. I love when you drink water how it squishes your nose up like a crumpled leaf. You love tickles and you never get sick of the same game (me neither FYI).
We still haven’t nailed the sleep thing. I mean you sleep when I’m next to you and I actually love sleeping next to you and I think Michael prefers it (I snore) but I feel it’s not really the ‘done thing’.
Has it been hard? This first year with you?
There were moments of exhaustion, frustration and plain old sleep-deprived bickering with your Dad. And the first newborn-y months, where my love was a one way street and my hormones were vacillating all over the place and I was sleep deprived AF and I just couldn’t figure out what you wanted…. Yes. Those months were hard.
But after that? I found it magical. Joyous. Love-filled. Giving. Unimaginably fun. Granted, I have a supportive partner in your Dad. Ma’u lives 500m away from me. I work for myself (and I love it) and I’ve had about ten friends have babies in the same year as me – so the support has been incredible. But also, you’ve been a pretty easy kid – I’ve had it pretty good.
You’ve taught me a lot (funny, I thought that being your Mum made me the lesson giver!).
My world has compressed to make room for you and my heart has expanded to make room for you. In between those moments there was you.
Being your mother has changed me irrevocably. My priorities have shifted. I’m no longer the centre of my universe.
I love you Hakavai x
I hope you don’t mind me sharing. It’s been a big year, but the best one yet.
I’ll be off next week – enjoying some downtime with Michael and Hakavai.
Wherever you are in the world, I hope you get some time to celebrate 2018.
Rest up, because I’ll be back in Jan with something really bloody great for you.
I’ve been working on it for a while and I can’t wait to share it with you in a few weeks!
Oh, and remember, if you know someone ready to make 2019 an epic one, I’ve opened my online mindset coaching course School of Champions for holiday gifting.
It’s my seven step guide to getting unstuck, ditching your excuses, overcoming barriers and making things happen!
So if you know someone (yourself included) who wants to make a change, or has a dream to realise, or maybe just a stuckness they want to smash through, SOC will help them actually make it happen.
If you want to gift a membership to yourself, or someone else, head here and we’ll get it all sorted for you.
Merry Christmas, and HAPPY NEW YEAR!