Mum Stories - Freyja Torn
/As part of Isabella and Us. I will be bringing you a brand new blog series where each week a mum shares her story. I believe it is vitally important that we share our honest, vulnerable and incredible stories of our motherhood journey.
** Please be aware that you may find some of the stories potentially be upsetting or they may trigger something for you. If you do need further support please do seek advice from your GP or a mental health professional.
This week Freya Torn shares how “Coming to motherhood from a difficult pregnancy I really thought the worst was over and days with a new born would be blissfully filled with lounging in a park while my baby slept comfortably in a buggy or going for meals out with a snoozing mini-me on my lap. Motherhood has looked nothing like either of these images and has mostly pushed me to the very edges of my sanity and mental health.”
A little bit about Freya:
“ Freyja blogs and writes articles around the theme of honest motherhood for online parenting communities and publications whose ethos she can really get on board with. You can often find her at a playgroup or local library just trying to keep her shit together with her 16 month old toddler tyrant, Max. She lives in the fine city of Norwich, Norfolk with her husband, toddler and sheep-dog, Bruce. Running an eco cleaning company and studying for a degree with the Open University life is a constant juggling act but every time a free minute crops up Freyja fills it with some other hair brained scheme to make her millions or can be found writing in a corner of a coffee shop (she's a cliché writer).”
Freya’s Story:
The landing strip of home felt like our dream holiday destination after the turbulence of a few days in hospital, my old self not even taking a backwards glance at the plane crash I was about to become.
But why was no one else's aviation fluid regularly leaking from the fuselage?
Why was no one else staring blankly at the wall, babe in arms, unable to get to the loo for a wee? Why was no one else desperately seeking a return signal from the control tower?
What I saw was perfectly clean, peacefully sleeping, calm babies in crisp white clothing. What I saw was smiling, stylishly dishevelled mums.
What I saw was surely all lies?
In the early days I was angry, period.
After 3 weeks of the mid-air-collision that was my experience of building a breastfeeding relationship, with my tiny, apparent son, apparently my responsibility, apparently needed me for everything...
I demanded answers.
It began with family,
"why didn't you tell me?!"
"Why didn't you go through this?" I barked at everyone that chose to come near me.
"We did, but no one talks about this stuff, you just hide away and get through it".
"WHAT?! WHY?"
Blank.
It wasn't their fault and now I'm not waking every 2 hours overnight I can see there's kindness in their responses and a need for privacy in such a delicate time.
I didn't get a rush of love when my son was born. I got a rush of protection. I didn't want to hold him straight away, in the end I was hugely grateful that my husband had already done this twice before (a fact I must admit I was a bit jealous of in pregnancy) and he cracked on with confidence as I cowered on the operating table waiting for the bizarre feeling of drugs and hormones to wear off.
Social media kept me going during those long night feeds. It also made me lose my mind and continues to do so. But, the solidarity of another 3am mum, tapping her thoughts into a mum’s group is second to none, not to mention real, human mum-friends.
And that's what kept me going.
And that's what keeps me going, present tense.
I started blogging. Initially it felt good to purge my thoughts on a painful pregnancy, and then on a painful motherhood journey. Determined that I couldn't be the only mum feeling this way I took to sharing my snippets of real life with a wider audience than my dog and my own ears.
To my relief the comments piled in that I was indeed not alone and in fact in great and honest company.
Mumtrue is a platform to share in my weekly failings and flailings on motherhood and it only works if we are true with one another.
So, go on, I dare you, hit release on the honesty button and dare to share your truth.
We are stronger together,
Freyja xx
** If this story has been upsetting or has triggered something for you and you do need further support please do seek advice from your GP or a mental health professional.**
You can see more of Freya over at:
