real life

Being injected with new-mum hormones seriously distorts your sense of reality.

Motherhood changes the way you look at the world. It also seriously distorts your reality.

The hormones that start to flood your body after you give birth literally force you to fall in love with your child. Nature has made it that way, otherwise you’d feed it, wash it and then leave it on a train station platform the first time it vomits down your cleavage in public.

When my son came along in 2013, I was in no way immune to this phenomenon. I think I actually had it worse than most right from the start.

Behold! The Lizard Baby! Image: Supplied.

Well, almost. The moment he was born and the midwives placed him on my chest for the first time, I took a good look at him and I’ll admit I wasn’t impressed.

My very first thought was, “Oh well. I will love him anyway.” Because he looked like a lizard with an umbilical cord. He also resembled a weird, Benjamin Button-like version of my Dad, which seriously freaked me (and hubby) out in those first few minutes.

But then the hormones kicked in. Once they took over I couldn’t believe how obsessed I was by this kid. From the cradle cap scabs on the top of his head to his disproportionately large feet, I adored every last inch of him.

Basically my little bundle of joy. Image: Supplied.

From that moment on, I was utterly convinced that my baby was the messiah.

Most people carry their children close when they’re out and about. I went to the supermarket holding mine up like he was the lion cub Simba and I was that old Monkey on Pride Rock.

Let’s face it, the way I felt about my son was the way Kanye West feels about Kanye West.

Here’s a confession - at my first mother’s group meeting I genuinely felt sorry for the other mothers. Because they just had regular, run of the mill babies. How could they stand sitting next to me and my baby, who was so dazzling that he made the sun look like a birthday candle?

Good thing I captured this stunning moment of ethereal beauty. Image: Supplied.

You’re nodding, right? You did it too.

After a few months, the cray-cray hormones did wear off. I think it was after he had sharted all over my favourite top for the fifteenth time. I still think my son is pretty cute, but when I look back at those photos I used to gaze at adorningly I realise - yup, he looked like an alien in a onesie. Just like all the other babies.

It’s so true that new parents not only think their baby is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen - they can’t understand why everyone else doesn’t agree. But now I think back to the compliments people gave me. Things like - “It sure is a baby!” and “He definitely has fingers!” and “Oh! That’s his face!” and I realise I that I was higher than Amy Winehouse on a Virgin Galactic flight.

He's not the messiah, he's my son and he's a very naughty boy! Image: Supplied.

Two years down the track and I’ve come to terms with the fact that my son is not the messiah - he’s just a little boy. With gappy teeth and a strange penchant for licking playground equipment.

I’ve moved on from the baby blinkers phase, but the good thing is that now they have made their way over to my toddler - he gazes at my acne prone skin, slightly greying hair and fresh wrinkles and exclaims - “Mummy! You are BEAUTIFUL!”

Did you experience the same feelings when you had a baby?

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