I had failed my driving test twice – once before we got married and once soon after. It was just me though, so it wasn’t a big deal getting on public transport – it was what I’d always done. If we were going somewhere together, then he – let’s call him John – would generally drive but he’d moan about having to do so.
When I became pregnant with our first child, I spent a lot of time in the evenings at my Mum’s. John wasn’t particularly happy about the pregnancy which I didn’t understand as he’d told me he wanted children. Yes, it had happened earlier than we’d planned but it was part of our plan for our future. He pretty much didn’t speak to me other than ‘hello’, ‘bye’ or necessary chatter. The fun was gone, and he didn’t want to do anything related to the baby. He wouldn’t speak to the bump as that was ‘silly’. Which was why I liked heading to my Mum’s after work. She was always pleased to see me, always excited to speak to her Grandbaby. If any of my brothers were round, they too would prod my bump to try to get her to kick whilst telling her which uncle was bothering her and they couldn’t wait to meet her. I still smile at those times. And then I remember when it was time to go home – when I’d got near the end and was heavy and tired – when it was pouring with rain and my Mum said “call John to come and get you in the car” and I laughed because I knew he wasn’t coming to get me. It would be a flat ‘no’, so I didn’t even bother to ask.
Once my Little Miss was born, I hoped things would be different. I struggled a bit in the beginning as I didn’t feel I was ‘winning’ at motherhood. I had trouble breastfeeding and had a horrible midwife visit me at home, telling me I was being ridiculous and that ‘anybody could do it’. She said it was soooo easy that the student that was with her was going to show me what to do. She made me feel small. Even the student looked embarrassed. In the end I said Little Miss had latched on when I knew she hadn’t because I just wanted that vile woman out of my house. It wasn’t until my third child that I had a lovely midwife who said actually my body wasn’t compatible with baby (that’s my polite way of saying my nipples are too large to fit in a newborn’s tiny mouth!). It wasn’t my fault! Yes! It took me nine years to realise and finally let go of the guilt.
During this time, John wasn’t attentive until I shut down. I stopped talking to him altogether and I heard him on the phone to someone saying he thought there was ‘something wrong’ with me. It was true, the baby blues did seem to be going on a bit, but I had no support from him. I looked after baby all day, he’d either come in and sit in front of the tv – so not putting her to bed. Or he’d come in late, ensuring I’d already done it.
Little Miss was only a couple of months old when I told him how tired I was. His response was “Why are you tired? You can sleep all day if you want!” And then, wanting to prove to me just how easy it was to look after a newborn he said he would sleep in the living room with her so I could get a full night’s sleep and could go out all day Saturday. It would be a breeze.
I happily accepted.
I slept well that night and woke up refreshed. He, however, was a mess. He barely managed to grunt a greeting at me – I guess waking up every 2 hours will do that to you. I had a leisurely breakfast and got ready to go out. I had nothing planned and ended up walking in every shop on the high street just to stay out longer. It was just after Noon when I got back. The living room was a complete mess. I started to tidy up and said I would help him now. The sheer relief on his face! He stopped me and apologised. He said he never knew it was so hard and he takes his hat off to me.
I assumed that meant he would now pull his weight – unfortunately, I was wrong.
This Can't Be Love 