It was day four. Or was it day five? I can't recall but it was smack bang in the middle of "the weeping" – those post-birth days when your emotions are held to ransom by an epic hormone cocktail. The intense love you feel looking at your baby's tiny face makes you cry but then, the sound of your partner's breathing makes you cry with nerve-shredding annoyance. The sound of your two-year-old son uttering the words, "I ya you, Harlow Wose" leaves you inconsolable.
In short, you are temporarily insane. A fragile little ball of tears.
In this state, you are happy to entertain exactly zero well-wishers who want to drop by and coo at the baby, even though they'll no doubt lie and say you look so well.
I was on the couch and crying steadily when the text came through. Be there in half an hour. And then, another text bearing the same message but a different sender. To be fair, I'd sent them both a previous message saying, Visit today? Oh yes! That would be delightful and I may have even warned them I may not be feeling particularly delightful myself.
But now they were coming and I probably smelled of baby vomit and despair. So I did what any self-respecting nutcase does – I put on mascara and cleaned the toilet. And then I waited.
Pru arrived first with a giant box of food, still warm from her stove. I opened the front door just a crack and then apologised as she awkwardly maneuvered herself and the box through that crack. I wasn't being cautious, I assured her, the door just didn't open any further than that on account of the world's most ridiculously positioned piano sitting directly behind said front door.
She cooed at my daughter, I cooed at the bounty she had lovingly prepared for my family and then I embraced her like an old friend.
But Pru is not an old friend. In fact, I had never met her before this moment. No, Pru was a reader of my blog and had found me via Mamabake, the big batch cooking movement we were both fans of on Facebook.
And now, here she was, in my kitchen, having Mamabaked just for me.
Meeting Pru, welcoming her into my home and receiving food from her was a profound post-birth experience. On a day when I wanted to curl up on the couch with my tiny daughter and just cry or better still, return to the cocoon of hospital, instead I found myself smiling and laughing, and feeling suddenly and powerfully reconnected with the world.
When my best friend arrived ten minutes later, I felt almost…normal. The vulnerable fragility just fell away, in it's place a quiet confidence that I would be able to negotiate the world again with three children; that I actually looked forward to reengaging.
Later that evening, as we sat down to Pru's lasagne, I felt an overwhelming sense of comfort, of having been nurtured. And when Bren's guilty face answered my question of whether this lasagne was better than mine, I didn't care. Hell, I agreed. It was amazing! Because it made getting dinner on the table effortless. Because it was warm and filling. Because it had, what was that flavour? salami? in the bolognese sauce. It was amazing because in every mouthful was the kindness of a woman who sought to reach out to me at a time when I really needed to feel someone reaching.
Preparing food for someone is, I have now discovered, one of the most powerful ways to express love and friendship.
Pru fed my family for me.
How amazing is that?
And equally nourishing was my lovely Tori, who, knowing me as she does, brought macaroons.
I was also reminded of the importance of letting people in. Even if I am feeling low, unattractive, sad or fragile. Especially when I'm feeling those things. We are not meant to go through this world alone.
And on this little gift of a day, I was lifted up by an old friend and a new one.
Thankful? That doesn't even come close to describing it.
Linking up with lovely Kate at kate says stuff.
Best. Thankful. Ever.
I’ve been blessed with gifts of food post births and it truly has been the greatest gift of all. Just knowing someone has taken the time to care for your family that way. Beautiful.
So glad you were nurtured <3
xox
Angie I love this post… for lots of reasons but its so true. I do not know how many times I have said the words you realised for yourself to people…. most recently was my newish next door neighbour. Her husband had been away for some time… i was trying to get her over for a coffee, wine.. whatever.
She kept making wierd excuses and at first I wondered if it was me.. but then I had a feeling.. that it was actually that she was not feeling very good.
I texted her saying.. please dont cancel coffee this morning, if you are having a hard time, having 2 more children around will give you a break , they can play, we can chat. She wrote back saying that she really was not up for it she had had a hard morning of parenting.
I sent one back which was possibly a bit risky saying.. I am coming in half an hour, I will have cake, you need a hug and I am going to give it to you.
I got an “OK”
And I was met by a bawling lady at the door who had clearly been crying for more than an hour. I hugged her, gave her cake and told her that I am the last person she needs to worry about putting on an apperance for .
Why do we do these things to ourselves… having other company , letting someone nurture and look after you is one of lifes most simple pleasures.
I can tell you my love, If i lived nearer or even in the same state you would be recieving a Jane care package of food, because I truly found it one of the most helpful things when Kai was born !!
Big love to you xx
fuck mother fucker that made me cry.
bless.
xx
Thank you, lovely one.
It really was so special. Personal and thoughtful and just wonderful. I will so be doing that for people more often.
xx
It doesn’t surprise me one little bit that you did that, honey. Not a bit.
More people should be like you – focused not on superficial shit but on reaching out and connecting. It makes all the difference.
You are one of God’s gems, Jane, you really are. And I aim to be more like you!
xx
Sorry my little mofo-ing treasure. xxx
Oh how glad I am to have found you and this awesome post. I was warmed to the core reading how much that day meant in your life. Too much we think “oh I don’t want to face anyone, no-one should see me like this” and look how it works when we not only open the front door (in your case not a lot LOL) and our hearts and mind.
My DD at 40 has just had her 4th child…but this little one is her first with her fiancé and the last time my DD had a bub was 2001. She too, is quite vulnerable atm…and I need to be ‘watchful’ mum so she is not too overwhelmed.
Loved coming here…thanks so much
Denyse
Thank you, Denyse, for your gorgeous words.
Congratulations on your newest grandchild and yes, hold your daughter that extra bit close, especially when she tells you she’s fine.
Geez I love your blog. I check every day for new posts and my fiancée now knows that if I am giggling, or as is more often the case, snorting in a most unladylike fashion, at my iPad it means I have indeed found new Little Mumma material. I can’t even say how many times you have brightened my day with your brilliant words. Xx
Geez, I love this comment! I mean, I reeeally love this comment.
Thank you, Kristin, for your lovely words. It’s such a kick to be able to write stuff that is meaningful to me and have someone else read it…and then tell me they actually liked it. Very cool. Thank you. xx
This is truly beautiful. Isn’t it wonderful when women will do things like this for one another? I remember how grateful I was for the various home-made dishes made by friends after I gave birth. Those dishes were always welcome!
I love that you have such lovely ladies to step in and give you what’s needed. x