I always imagined that I would one day have children. Two in fact. And a husband, a good career and a nice house. Of course I also wanted to be the next global pop sensation…But deep down I knew that my future fate would be far more modest and ‘run of the mill’ (probably because I can’t actually sing).
I expected that one day I would just ‘feel ready’ to have children and settle down.
But if you want the truth of it, that never really kicked in. I was never the type of woman who would coo over newborn babies in the supermarket and to be honest, I was pretty disinterested in other people’s kids in general. I was never the fun friend who would spend whole afternoons playing chase with the kids in the garden whilst the rest of the adults got merry in the kitchen. I just didn’t get it…give me adult conversation and peace and quiet any day.
I remember squirming as I witnessed friends and family members pick bogies out of their kids’ noses and deal with poo explosions with bored expressions on their faces. I couldn’t imagine ever being okay with that…
I spent my twenties ‘finding myself’, progressing my career, making new friends, falling out of bars and always searching for that something or somebody that would really ‘make me tick’. Luckily I found your Dad.
Even when Dad and I decided to try for you, it was more of a rational ‘life decision’ as opposed to any deep-rooted maternal instinct. We had just got married and felt it was the ‘right time’ to start a family. Obviously we were delighted when I fell pregnant, but even then and throughout the pregnancy, it never actually felt ‘real’. I couldn’t imagine that I was about to give birth to a baby. My baby.
And then I had you and everything changed.
I remember the minute they put you on my chest I was overwhelmed with love for you, and I knew that it was going to be that way forever. You were the most perfect thing I’d ever laid eyes on and all I wanted to do was care for you and protect you. Life made sense and I had found what I’d always been searching for. Fulfillment.
Now I’m the mum who will happily spend entire afternoons making crap cookies and scraping Play-doh off the carpet (okay, maybe not entire afternoons…) I’m the one at the supermarket who coos over other newborns because they remind me of a time when I had my own – and how far we’ve come.
I even quite enjoy picking your nose.