You’ve Made Me..

Responding to this.

I never meant to be a mother. I never planned it, I never wanted it, I didn’t even think it could happen. And I was okay with that. I’d made my peace, and seen that my future should be child-free.

But, like all best laid plans, things never work out the way you think they will. One unexpected pregnancy and one emergency c-section later, I find myself being a mother.

It’s not the easiest job in the world, yet most women seem hell-bent on doing it. It’s something I never thought I could do, yet when I had the chance to back out, why didn’t I?

Because every morning, when I look at the tiny replica that is partly me and partly The Boyfriend, I melt. I can see my lips, my smile, my ears, and my sheer stubbornness and determination reflected in this small human. I see The Boyfriend’s eyes, nose, fingers and toes, and his temper and curiosity mixed in with all the traits that are mine. All the best parts of each of us have found a new arrangement and created a new person.

And a new person is not all that resulted from one unplanned pregnancy. I changed as well. Not overnight, like I expected. I didn’t instantly feel like a mother once my child was born, like I was hoping would happen. No, instead I slowly learnt that mothering is about putting someone else’s needs before your own. I would’nt say I’m more patient, I’ve just learnt to be better at hiding my impatience. I’ve learnt that mothering is part instinct and part trial-and-error. Somethings you just know how to do, and others have to be experienced. I’ve also learnt how to ask for advice, and how to take advice. And that doing so doesn’t make me a failure.

I’ve discovered that mothering isn’t all joy and sleeping babies, but that it’s okay to express the fact that ‘today has been the pits, and I’d just like a break from my kid, please‘. I’ve learnt that post-natal-depression doesn’t make you a bad person, or a bad mother, if you seek help. It doesnt even have to be medical help. I got help from my blogging friends, my boyfriend and my family. You’d be surprised, once you admit how you’re feeling, that so many other mothers have felt the same. Talking about your feelings doesn’t make you a sissy. Is another thing I’ve learnt.

I’ve realised that I can stop tears, I can kiss better a bruise, and I can tickle away any worries my baby might have. There’s nothing a hug or an elephant biscuit cant fix. I’ve become a person of routine, whereas before I used to fight every inch of routine in my life. Now routine is satisfying, and helps my baby feel secure. I’ve stopped worrying what other people think of me. The only person I need to impress is my son, and as far as he is concerned, I’m about the coolest thing out there. He wouldn’t trade me for the world.

I know that the smiles, the laughs, the milestones and the tears are all part of being a mother. And sometimes, when I wish he would hurry up and start walking, I realise that I’m wishing his life away…Which is the last thing I’d want. I just want him to be happy, healthy, and to grow and get lots of sleep.

Despite all the battle scars – the stretchmarks, the feet that went from a size 5 to a 6 and never went back. Despite the rings under my eyes, and the sheer exhaustion at the end of the day, I love him. I love being with him, I love stopping him from sticking his finger in the plug socket, I love digging my earrings out his mouth, and bathing with him, and crawling around the bedroom and playing peek-a-boo over and over and over. I love making him smile. And even though I’m not the same person I used to be, and even though I’ve sacrificed so much, I haven’t once, for an instant, regretted it. I love to love my son.

I just want him to be proud of me one day. As proud as I am of him. Proud of the fact that even though he was unplanned, his mother was always there for him. Loving him, guiding him, teaching him, and helping him reach his potential.

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