My husband and I embarked on this parenting journey in 2019 with the birth of our daughter "I" (for the sake of anonymity in the endless world of the internet, full names stay with me for the time being). When I found out I was pregnant, I had just accepted a new job. A very intense, rarely obtained and highly coveted position as a Resident in Internal Medicine (Veterinary). It was no secret the hours would be long, there would be extensive out-of-hours work, and I would rarely be home. The pregnancy, whilst desperately wanted, came with concerns for balancing professional life and still achieving the life goals I had set out for myself. In addition to this, my husband and I both adored to travel. Any and every opportunity saw us looking for flights to new and exciting places (trips round India, Taiwan, America and Canada has all featured in the years running up to the arrival of "I"). My husband was also a keen, and successful athlete. Competing for team GB (age-groups) in Triathlons internationally at this time.
Throughout the whole of my pregnancy we told ourselves, we will not be parents that give up our identities. We will continue to do the things we love, we will strive to reach our professional and personal life goals, we won't lose ourselves in this process.
Whilst my pregnancy was relatively straight forward, "I's" entrance to this world was complicated; emotionally, physically and mentally the one of the hardest experiences we had been through together. Thankfully after a period in hospital she and I were both fine and discharged but nothing could prepare the pair of us for the mindset shift that came with this small, vulnerable, wrinkly little thing that became the centre of our lives. We were very fortunate that "J's" work are extremely progressive and a 4 month, paid, paternity leave was a given, a privilege I recognise and am extremely grateful for. Our mindset remained the same, we wanted to travel, we felt this was obtainable, we were keen to make the most of this extended period we had together. We settled into our little bubble and just as we were finding our feet COVID hit.
The pandemic presented new and interesting challenges. "J's" work, in the tech industry, was able to transition relatively seamlessly into remote work. I was still on maternity leave so the first lockdown, the confusion about what was and wasn't allowed, the anxiety of being in contact with other people with a terrifying global death rate in the papers every day didn't hit me personally. The veterinary industry, and the health care of animals was slightly forgotten in the initial legislation. Vets weren't considered key workers but animals still needed treatment, still needed care, were still dying. I was glad to be away from the heartache, confusion and grief that surrounded this at the time. Grateful for my safe, little bubble with my small human and husband.
As time passed, our understanding of the virus and its epidemiology developed and things slowly returned to normal we found that there had been an inexplicable shift in our mindsets. Travel now presented some degree of anxiety that had never featured before. Less the prospect of having the small in tow, more the flights, crowded spaces, the unknown risk to her. I truly believe, that if there hadn't been a global pandemic to deal with our wanderlust would have continued and life would be a very different picture. Work wise, "J" stayed remote and I went back to practice. I found the "mum-guilt" amplified, worsened by the fact my daughters first word was "bye-bye" as I left for yet another long shift, firm in the knowledge that even if I tried my damnedest I wouldn't be home for bedtime. Veterinary medicine has never, and sadly will never, fit into a 8-6 lifestyle, even if your paid working hours are just that. There is always the unexpected, the last minute schedule delay due to an emergency, a quick owner update call that ends up taking half an hour. Some days I would leave my drowzy baby early in the day, only to get home well past her bedtime. Other days my on call would lead me to still be at the practice at 3/4/5am the next day, with a full day of work still ahead of me. The job required significant study time outside of my working hours on top of that. I was never present for my daughter, for my husband. My clients, many of whom were new pet owners, were in heightened states of stress as a result of the ongoing state of affairs with covid, elevating the emotional toll of the role. More than once I had a client threaten suicide should I fail to heal their desperately unwell animal. Many of the animals were equally anxious thanks to the poor socialisation that came with that era of our lives, increasing the risk of injury.
I made it 11 months. Then all of the plates I was juggling came crashing down around my feet. My mental health crumbled and, in all honesty, these days were some of the darkest I have known. I was failing at being the best vet I could, because my mind was at home. I was failing to be a good mum, because my mind was a work. Failing to be a good wife because, in all honesty, I was exhausted and angry. Like many in my generation, I struggle with being anything but perfect at the best of time and I was far from perfect in all aspects of life. A lot of severe, repressed, childhood trauma I had assumed was dealt with rose its ugly head and I lost myself completely for a time.
Fast forward 18 months and a lot of personal, parenting and marital work later. We have travelled with our small, nothing like the elaborate extended adventures we had initially planned but still an achievable goal. "J" has managed to meet some physical goals, including swimming the English channel, in relay with two of his sisters and I have found a way to still help pet owners and animals alike by writing. Sharing my knowledge to empower pet owners in their animal care journey. It may not be the same as the fast paced, top of my profession clinical role I had dreamed of but sometimes things have to change. As people we have to be flexible, realistic, mindful. Mindful and aware of not only our dreams, but also of our limitations. Embracing this change in ourselves, being less rigid in our expectations of ourselves and learning to not be disappointed that life isn't how our pre-child selves pictured it. This mindset shift has actually allowed for us to hold onto our identities. To still do the things we love and feel passionately about, even if not quite in the same all-or-nothing way we did before.
Yes, becoming parents will change you. It's down to you to decide how you want that change to look.