When I was pregnant, everyone talked to me about the sleep deprivation that comes with babies. The two most discussed things were my idea about coming back to finish my degree, and the sleeplessness that parenthood brings. I did all the research about labour and breastfeeding, sleep arrangements and vaccinations. I searched baby milestones and teething, googled baby massage and bought Gina Ford. I looked at any and everything that I thought would be needed… but somehow I managed to miss the bits about food.

Weaning a baby is seriously the most difficult thing I have done yet. The nights of little sleep, the crying, the initial struggle to establish breastfeeding – I would do it all again rather than feel so damn confused and tired of food. The worry and questions in my head are endless and its exhausting.

What if I wean him wrong?

Is he going to choke?

Did he eat that or throw on the floor?

Has it got salt?

Has it got sugar?

Is it nutritious?

What’s in it?

How on earth do I know if I’m doing this right?

Around Christmas, when Theo Prana was around 4 and a half months old, desperate for sleep, I accepted my mum’s suggestion of baby rice in the evenings. He took to it like a fish in water, having a little every night mixed with my breastmilk. After 10 days or so, I left back to the UK and gave up. Feeding a baby is a loud and messy affair, something that I was worried about. Theo Prana refused to feed with me anyway, fighting to be in charge of the spoon and so I decided just boob feeds would be fine for a while; after all, he was only 5 months.

Come 6 months and I figured now was a good time. I got a high chair from the charity shop near my road, and some beautiful bamboo plates and a bowl. I had a food net, and some storage boxes already. We were ready… except I wasn’t. How on earth do you wean a baby in a small, unfriendly flat, trying to make minimal noise and mess while avoiding puree foods.

You can’t.

I tried. I am still trying.

My trip to Gibraltar was a mixture of traditional weaning and baby led weaning, of which he seems to prefer the latter. At home we have my dog so anything he chucked on the floor got eaten by her and there wasn’t a problem. With at least 3 adults in the house, someone was always on hand to either clean while I took baby, or take baby while I cleaned. Now back in Portsmouth, my dad is helping me with it for the moment, but I can already feel myself dreading the weeks until I am home.

Yesterday, Theo Prana thew up absolutely everything he had at dinner, including a good amount of milk, and then happily went on to eat half my jacket potato – well he probably ate about a quarter and the rest ended up on the floor. I try to keep my cool if he gags because I know it’s a normal reflex, but it’s really quite difficult, and when all his portion ends up on the floor, he wants mine, to also throw down. It’s quite entertaining but also really stressful.

The next weeks and months are so important in order to establish good feeding habits for him. I will continue to breastfeed until he no longer wants to, but I know that he needs to explore food and begin to take in nutrients from it. At the same time, I have a hell of a lot of uni work going on, with added mental stress making these next weeks seem more daunting than ever. A clingy, teething, weaning baby, a dissertation, other assignments, a long distance marriage, and a difficult flat situation; it’s all feeling a little overwhelming.

I wanted to write more, but there has been no opportunity. I wanted to play more, but I feel like I should be working. I wanted to finish assignments, but I got ill and felt guilty leaving my baby for long periods.

This motherhood thing is hard.

I guess ultimately, I can’t know if I am doing it wrong. I can be honest and do my best, and I am doing that. I wish Theo Prana could tell me whats going on, but of course that isn’t anywhere near possible, and the more advice I get the more confused I am. Weaning is proving super challenging and I hope it will get better, but I think that it’s not so much that the weaning is hard, just all the other stuff is making it seem harder. At the end of the day, when he is older, if he asks I will tell Theo Prana that I did my best, that motherhood is difficult and that nobody is perfect.

He is hungry, but I am feeding him; and he is growing and healthy, so I’ll be content with that.

And I am coping. Some days are better than others, and some days I want to just quit so that my focus can be entirely on my son. The bad days are hard, but the good days are wonderful, and in less than 3 months I will have my own home, and be in a completely different situation. The end is in sight but the road just feels very bumpy in order to get there.