| The Park Is Our Place To Be |
| Written by Linda McSweeny | |
|
Linda McSweeny discovers that her local park is just as good as any mothers’ group. Before and after I gave birth to my little girl, I did all the research I could possibly do on how to stay sane and cope with the enormously wonderful, emotionally turbulent and delightful journey that is motherhood. But nothing could prepare me for the day that I sadly gave up on the idea of attending a mothers’ group. My husband and I took our newborn girl to the local early-childhood centre for her first check-up when she was two weeks old, and were encouraged by the nurse to return to the centre a few days later to join the ‘Early Bird’ group of new mums. It wasn’t until my darling girl was five weeks old that I managed to get out the door, into the car, out of the car and into the centre for what I had hoped would be a heartwarming haven for us both. We squeezed into the packed room and parked our capsule among the crowd. I quietly chatted to a friendly new mum and admired her little boy as we waited for the meeting to start, secretly chuffed that I had joined a mums’ group after years of hoping to become a mum. Five minutes later, I was standing at the back of the room trying to console my baby, who was the only little one in the room who was upset. By the meeting’s end, battling tears myself, I bundled up my daughter, scrambled out of the room and made it to the car before the tears began to flow. It was all just too hard. I felt a failure. I couldn’t even comfort my own child when everybody else’s child was so content. Some mothers were even saying that their babies were “angels” who “never cry”, “always smile” and were “sleeping through”. My reality was a bout of mastitis, a little girl who cried a lot and seemed to detest sleep, and little more than half a handful of sleep day or night to sustain me. To top it off, my husband had sacrificed the car that day just so that I could get there. A week later, I thought I’d try again. This time we didn’t even make it out the front door. Weeks later, as I finally managed to convince my daughter that the pram was a nice place to be, we began our walks around our neighbourhood and local park, just the two of us, in a bid to connect with the outside world. As we walked around the park I started texting a friend. No reply. Of course not, everybody else was at work. I rang my husband for a chat and he was tied up with clients. I put the phone away and kept walking. I’d never felt so isolated and wondered how I could feel this way with my darling little girl next to me. It was then that I turned the pram around and headed for the playground and the sunshine. Within a few minutes, I could hear the chirping of birds in the trees and the squeals of happy youngsters. I felt instantly at ease. Company. I didn’t need to talk to anyone or say anything. I just needed to surround myself with the noises of nature and people. It was then that my baby fell into the sound slumber she had been longing for and for the first time in weeks I felt as though everything was okay. As my baby has grown into a toddler, the park has become a haven for us both. There is something special about the sight of kids having fun, and parents chatting to strangers and having a laugh. I (and my husband) have discussed breastfeeding, sleep, food, illness, the high cost of houses and so much more with complete strangers who have somehow become our ‘park friends’ without even necessarily knowing our names. My toddler frolics in sheer delight when she sees her park friends, and shares her toys with them. She runs towards the birds, points to the planes, exhausts herself on the slippery dip and revels in the sensory joy of the sandpit, while I enjoy her company, the banter and little chats with other families and, most of all, getting amongst it all. It was with great sadness that I abandoned all attempts to get back to the early-childhood centre to try to join the mothers’ group. But when I look back now, the park and its inhabitants suit me just fine. I no longer feel isolated, inadequate and disappointed. I feel enlivened, and my daughter’s cries have been replaced with hearty laughs, from both of us. Hands down, the park is our place to be. |
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