The Measly Jar of Motivation – Inside Out

Night had long since descended. As she gazed out of the tenth-floor window, she could see the lights from the town twinkling below. Tiny cars were making their way along the roads. Everything looked so normal. It all looked the same. Nothing had changed yet at the same time, everything had changed. A huge crushing weight of responsibility had settled on her slender shoulders. Although this was a moment she had dreamt of and longed for, now that it was real, she was scared. Could she really do this? What if she failed? What if she wasn’t good enough? What if she couldn’t cope?

Behind her, the baby began to cry loud piercing wails as he squirmed in his clear plastic hospital crib.

Without hesitation, she scooped him up and cradled him in her arms, swaying gently from side to side to rock him back to sleep. Could she really do this alone?

She glanced down at his head covered in downy white, blonde hair, his angry red face, his tiny, clenched fists.

Her eyes caught sight of a label. His tiny white vest was on inside out. What kind of mother was she going to make if she couldn’t even put his first vest on the right way round?

Suddenly the familiar world outside the window seemed dark and scary and completely overwhelming.

“What are you doing out of bed? It’s late. You should try to get some rest,” scolded the midwife softly.

“But he was crying…”

“Let me settle him tonight. You need to rest. You’ve had a long emotional day,” stated the midwife stepping closer.

Wearily, she handed the fractious baby, her three-hours old son, to the midwife.

“Now, do we have a name yet?” asked the midwife, accepting the baby into her arms.

“Oliver,” she replied quietly as she smiled at her son. Allowing her mind to remember her late partner momentarily as she wrestled with her grief, then she added, “After his dad.”

“It’s a good name,” nodded the midwife as baby Oliver’s cries began to subside. “Now, bed. Sleep. Rest. The world will look less daunting in the morning.”

“I hope so…”