Nikki Walsh is a writer and editor with a passion for what makes us tick. She lives in Dublin with her husband, her son and a heap of books, mostly on psychology.
So, what do Irish women really think about motherhood? Nikki collects experiences and rants from women across the country:
Molly's story:
"No one told me how bad teething can be. When my son Andrew was four months old, he began waking six or seven times at night, howling in pain. Drool poured out of him – I had to change his bib every 20 minutes – and a rash broke out on his face and neck that wept and bled. He could not nap for longer than 10 minutes and there were four week stretches when all he could eat was yoghurt. There was no routine. I tried teething rings, frozen bagels, ice cubes, peeled carrots from the fridge, peeled carrots not from the fridge, gels, sachets, Nurofen, Calpol and three different amber necklaces. Nothing worked.
I moved in a fog, propped up on coffee, my neck covered in teething bites. When I talked to friends they looked at me blankly. I mean he cried sometimes, said one, and we wondered was it the teeth, but we weren’t sure… have you tried the necklace? At Christmas, he woke my family at night, crying. It can’t be teething, said my father. Have you tried crying it out, suggested my sister, show him who’s boss? My mother looked between us. What about that necklace?
Then a friend had her first baby. He doesn’t nap for longer than 20 minutes, she told me on the phone. You should see the drool that’s coming out of him. The Nurofen wears off. The necklace doesn’t work. As she talked I felt something lifting – the burden of paranoia and self doubt.
The days got easier. When Andrew woke up screaming after a 10 minute nap, I ignored friends badgering about bad habits, took him in my arms and let him sleep, and we both got some well deserved rest. Then he turned one, and began to walk, and was able to distract himself from the pain.
Now I get phone calls from friends of friends, who have “teethers” as well. Go with the flow, I hear myself say. Do what you have to do. The normal rules don’t apply. Of course hearing myself speak I wonder why I wasn’t kind enough to say all these things to myself."
