BEL MOONEY: I have the baby I longed for – why am I so bored and resentful that my husband still has a life outside our family?

Dear Bel,

I’m 35 and a new mum to a beautiful ten-month-old baby – the result of years of trying and, ultimately, IVF.

I know I’m lucky. So many women never get to this point. I told myself I’d never take it for granted, that I’d cherish every moment. But the truth is I’m struggling, and feel racked with guilt for even admitting it.

After all the longing and waiting, I thought motherhood would feel like a reward. But day to day, it feels more like a life I no longer recognise.

I gave up work when my son was born – something I’d always thought I’d want – and while I’m fortunate to have had that choice, I now find myself regretting it.

I feel like I’ve lost the version of me I once was: competent, busy, fulfilled. Now my days revolve around naps, feeds, laundry and endlessly pushing a buggy around, trying to fill the hours until bedtime.

It’s not just boredom (although I feel that acutely), it’s the isolation and the feeling that my world has shrunk to the size of a playmat. Meanwhile, my husband’s life hasn’t changed much at all. He goes to work, sees people; he has a life outside of us. I resent how untouched he seems by the seismic shift that’s swallowed me whole.

I love my son. I’m grateful he’s here. But I also feel like I’m disappearing. Everyone around me expects me to be nothing but joyful – after all, this is the baby I longed for. But I’m ashamed to admit how often I just feel . . . flat.

Some days I fantasise about getting in the car and going somewhere alone, escaping for a few days to feel like a person again. People may judge me, but I don’t know how to climb out of this fog.

My National Childbirth Trust friends all seem to be thriving, so what’s wrong with me? Why am I so bored, lonely and resentful after getting everything I wanted?

ZOE

Bel Mooney replies: Reading your letter catapulted me back to 1974 when I fell in love with my baby boy yet simultaneously fell out of a fantasy about motherhood.

How was it possible to nearly faint with delight at the smell of his little head, yet long for his naps so I could have time to myself? How was it possible to adore pushing his carrycot across Clapham Common to shop for baby clothes, yet yearn for my noisy, smoky, boozy newspaper office?

His high-achieving father was always away doing amazing, challenging things, while I was convinced the prison doors clang shut on me.

That’s why now I’m hearing you loud and clear and want to give you a massive hug, saying: ‘Of course you love your baby but of course you get bored!’

Please realise you are perfectly normal and there is absolutely nothing to feel guilty about.

I don’t believe you’re describing post-natal depression (which is a very real condition) but the ups and downs of a phenomenal life change that millions of women experience.

These highs and lows will stay with you because they go hand-in-hand with motherhood, so take deep breaths and accept the new reality. Including your wish to escape from it.

Those friends you shared pregnancy with – do you really believe they are ‘thriving’ every minute of their new motherhood? That sometimes their babies’ unstoppable cries aren’t like daggers to the breast, making them want to run away? Do they look at you and envy the fact that you seem to be such a happy, contented and efficient mum?

You think you will be judged for not conforming to an impossible ideal of maternal contentment, and that’s precisely why many women keep silent about their complicated moods.

Stow your judgments, people! You’re not the ones with the scent of baby poo in your nostrils, wondering how the days grew so long and empty; when the baby coos are adorable, yet you feel desperate for an adult to talk to.

It is so important to realise at this point in your life, Zoe, that we don’t feel one thing all the time; our moods and perceptions flit like butterflies as we walk through our days.

It’s equally vital to take a longer view and understand that this is one stage that will pass quite quickly.

Yes, I’d love to be able to advise you to enjoy each stage, because all too soon you’ll have a stroppy teenager on your hands. But I know you’ll sigh because such counsel doesn’t really help.

Lean into this stage of your child’s life. Make sure you take your baby out for a walk every day, preferably to new places where there are things to watch.

Meet those NCT friends for lunch as often as possible. Try keeping a journal – because that’s making time for your inner self, even if you’re writing one long moan. Punctuate that with a daily observation which isn’t about you but describing something you saw or someone you met. Make this a project because it will fascinate you in years to come.

Look at that pesky playmat and realise that in the astonishing development of two souls – yours and your baby’s – it can turn out to be a universe in disguise.

Believe one who really does know.

I’m lonely and feel like such a loser 

Dear Bel,

I’m just past my 60th birthday and on the surface life is fine.

I have my own house and car – as well as a big lonely heart. This is a very old (even same-old?) problem for you.

I have only ever had three girlfriends. One when I was 18, the second later and lasting over ten years. I am still friends with both.

But I’m useless at picking up whether a woman fancies me. And I cannot ask someone more than once for a date because once I’ve been turned down, that’s it. Asking a woman out several times would feel like stalking.

I like the company of women, sometimes paying compliments. But it confuses me to read (in the media) women saying they don’t need men to tell them how beautiful they look. Several women have called me kind, but then go out with men who dominate them – and worse. I collected one from the marital home on New Year’s Day to save her from her violent husband. It doesn’t make sense.

I also hear incredible stories. One woman who I met on a date in a coffee shop told me her husband was in prison for offences against children, and the first she knew of his activities was the police at the door.

A second date went well. We made plans for the next but it was as if she forgot or it may have been the alcohol she drank (I never drink). I was so upset. It made me feel more of a loser.

RICHARD

Bel Mooney replies: People often jeer or sigh, ‘Same-old, same-old’ when they think an opinion, problem or situation is a cliche. But a week ago I gave a talk about my work to one of the excellent WI groups in my area and told them that although problems do fit into the same five categories, each is different. So loneliness is perennial, but you are unique.

Look at the positives in your letter. Those early relationships resulted in lasting friendships, revealing much about the kind of man you are.

You’ve made a success of your life in material terms, yet you’re not taken in by the surface of things. So, being straightforward and sincere, you don’t know about flirting and game-playing. Perhaps you are too reticent but many women prefer that to brashness.

As for those compliments, where did you read that women dislike pleasant things being said? It’s not true. All women of my acquaintance love being told, ‘That colour is really good on you’ or ‘You look great today’ – as long as it’s not leery.

It’s true quite a lot of women are attracted to ‘bad boys’. More fool them – but that’s just how it is.

There’s nothing to be done about such women except be as kind and supportive as you are. Believe me, there are plenty of single women over 50 who long to meet a kind man for companionship – and maybe love. You say you met that recent lady ‘on a date in a coffee shop’. Does that mean you have tried internet dating sites?

I hope so, because although they can be disappointing they can also provide practice. Put you through your paces, in other words.

So why not continue – or start, if it’s a new thought? But you have to change your mindset and stop wishing and hoping that every encounter will turn out to be ‘the one’.

You have to learn to value your friendships as the beautiful thing they are – a form of love.

If that lady was indeed so drunk she forgot that you had made a date, then it was probably going nowhere anyway.

The choice is: either get in touch with her casually and ask if she’s OK, because you thought she might be sick; or decide that she was embarrassed at being a drinker, which means she probably wouldn’t have suited you anyway.

You can do no more than you are doing already – except that you need to relax. Desperate people give off neon signs of neediness which are very off-putting.

People happy in their own skins (which you should be; see the positives above) give off cool, attractive vibes which lead to others wanting to know them some more.

So never, ever call yourself a ‘loser’ again. Never! It will turn you into one.

And finally… We all need a ‘safe space’ to recharge

The little cartoon tickled my imagination. It shows a very small dog lying on his back on a psychiatrist’s long couch. His wee paws are folded over his chest.

Pencil poised, the shrink is waiting with her notebook, but he says: ‘To be honest, everything is fine. I was looking for a place where I am allowed on the couch.’

Since our three dogs lie all over our furniture (muddy in the winter!), I thought it very sweet. But doesn’t it also say something rather important about human life? How many people, young and old, just need a comfortable safe space where they are allowed to be themselves?

Normally I dislike that phrase ‘safe space’ – so misused by weedy students who can’t cope with people who have different views.

Here I use it to mean simply time to breathe, for a bit of peace and understanding. Or chill out and stop fussing.

That thought is prompted by a story in our paper earlier this week.

The headline: ‘Pupils to be taught ‘feeling down’ isn’t a mental health issue’.

Education Secretary Bridget Phillipson says it’s time children are helped to realise that their moods and setbacks aren’t a sign that they have a ‘mental health issue’ but that they are perfectly normal – because such are the ups and downs of life. Hear, hear!

We must all be concerned that people in their 20s are now more likely to be off work claiming depression, anxiety, etc.

They can go to the doctors and claim sickness benefit and live a life dependent on medication. Is there anybody who can’t see how damaging this is – to them as well as to our country?

It’s time both teachers and parents encouraged them to be as honest as that little dog on the couch.

Bel answers readers’ questions on emotional and relationship problems each week. Write to Bel Mooney, Daily Mail, 9 Derry Street, London W8 5HY, or email bel.mooney@dailymail.co.uk. Names are changed to protect identities. Bel reads all letters but regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence.