A lot of my friends and family are having children now and I long to be a mother. But I know that in being a mother, there are sacrifices to be made; you can’t lounge in bed with your new husband on Saturday mornings, there is no such thing as a day off anymore, that washing pile you were hoping would shrink just keeps on growing, almost exponentially, and then there’s your love...
I love Chris more than I’ve ever loved anyone else in my entire life, but with a child it’s a different kind of love. It’s a love where you cannot believe you created something so perfect; you, with your flaws and your ability to hurt and be hurt, created this almost doll-like creature, with it’s tiny fingernails and long eyelashes and soft downy hair.
I’m not ready to be a mother; I’m still too selfish, I’m still too stubborn and I’m still too unorganised. My entire world is still revolving around my marriage, and there isn’t enough room for Baby Hately yet. But as soon as I blink, I’ll have a child on each hip, and then they’ll be gone. Fledged. Out the door and creating their own little families.
Our lives are fleeting, gone in an instant. In speaking to my mum recently, she reminded me that it wasn’t so long ago that I was a toddler, throwing temper tantrums and refusing to eat my greens. Now I’m a married woman, creating my own space in the world and making a home. In becoming a parent, I think we have to remain aware of how fast they grow up, and how hard this pulls on the heartstrings.
I need to get to know my husband and myself as a married woman before I get to know my children. But soon enough, my time will come. And I’ll make a little nest until then, hoarding hoarding baby-grows and packs of socks and bibs and bits and pieces. And hopefully, I'll have a baby in August, so I can dress it up like a pumpkin for Halloween (yes, I already own a pumpkin baby grow; it was a present from a good friend).
K.
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