I want to blog because...

So here I am 6 weeks postpartum. A truly beautiful and healthy baby girl. A pretty awesome husband. And with all this has come an insatiable need to record, savour, reflect and log. Everyone tells me I won't get these moments back and they're right. Not a day goes by when I don't turn to someone and gasp "they really DON'T stay babies forever". Unsympathetic to my breaking heart Euna relentlessly puts on weight, grows out of "Newborn" baby clothes and everyday makes a new and incredible leap away from the wriggly little scrap of a thing that burst in the world on the 7th March. She's lost that bright red new glow to her skin, her cries are heartier and I can see her starting to switch on the world as her looks at me become gradually more familiar.

In short; it's going too fast. And this blog is to anchor me. Once every... however often I decide to write this... I will sit, reflect, absorb and record this time. Her time. Our time. And maybe it'll take some shape of "confessions of a first time mum" type thing... who knows. We'll find out I guess... But my first blogging pledge is to be honest, despite the fear that some desperately attractive and successful old school friend may stumble across this and scoff at my tales of cracked nipples, I WILL be honest.

So here I am... blogging... where to start?

I won't start at the beginning, the birth. It's too big, too long and beyond what I have the words for just yet. That's all still settling. I don't know what I think about birth yet. I do know everyday the memory gets a little fonder. I'm sure it's some trick of nature to make us breed. Which is fine. No one wants to sit and read about how humiliating it is to shit yourself in front of your husband, how it's the worst pain in the history of the universe ever since time began or how MY birth was THE worst birth ever and don't even think YOURS was worse because it wasn't (people love doing that about birth).

So I'll start by answering the question I get asked five times a day... How's it going being a Mum? It's the new "How's life as a newly wed?" which I got five times a day after I got married. Never knew how to answer that one. Don't know how to answer this one.

The reason why I don't know how to answer this one is because no one wants to hear you are either doing well or badly. The genuine truth is Euna is a great baby. We are lucky. She feeds, she sleeps and yes she wakes up in the night but I only have one and I manage to get my sleep in either side of the feeds. That on top of the fact that 9 months off "real" coffee means my caffeine tolerance is decreased and a good espresso is now enough to see me through the day. So it's great. Being a Mum is awesome. I love it. Sorry.

Why sorry? Well sorry because it seems there are very few people in this world who want to hear that it's going well. They assume you're lying or are being smug. There's a lot of offence to be caused by telling you're enjoying motherhood. Honestly I don't mean offence. I feel like saying to people "oh yeah it's going great but don't worry I'm sure I'll hate it soon".

So the alternative would be to say it's hard? It's not. YET. Yes I get YET. I comprehend things will change. But come on! I'm in the honeymoon period, let me enjoy it. Allow me these few blissful weeks to ignorantly believe motherhood will just be all a blur of Johnsons-baby-oil-advert-esc moments rolling around on my bed blowing baby belly raspberries and basking in the angelic glow of her early morning smiles. Please? Just for another week or two...?

I suppose the important thing to know, before you think me smug too, is right now I'm just too aware that I'm lucky. Becoming a Mum has been a journey eating slice after slice of humble pie. 12 week scan; baby is there, likelihood of downs syndrome is low, has arms and legs... thank you thank you thank you. 20 week scan; abnormality scan all goes well, my skin hasn't exploded, husband is being supportive... thank you thank you thank you. Birth; she got here, she's healthy, I survived... thank you thank you thank you. It really is humbling. That's the best word. The journey has been littered with "what ifs", probabilities of a million unthinkable things and a billion horror stories. So to come out the other side of nine months of crossed fingers and toes not just unscathed but with everything you'd ever wished for... yea I feel lucky. I am lucky.

Well that's quite a sunny note to leave my first blog entry on. Yes I am lucky. So whatever variety of despair I am undoubtedly destined to divulge on here just know underlying that I do know I am lucky.

The first lesson I have learnt as a Mum; count your blessings.