On being a mother

We had a busy weekend, Saturday was MrC’s 7th birthday and of course Sunday was Mother’s Day here. I always flash back to the kids’ first birthdays.

I was a stunned mullet the day MrC was born, goodness, I look a lot younger too. I had gentle contractions through the night by the fire while Mr SYW slept (I did tell him not to worry). Mr SYW was going to leave for work in the morning but I convinced him that it would probably be a good idea to stay home and fill the birthing pool. He doodled around so much that the pool never warmed up enough so I hopped into the bathtub. The sun was coming in through the window and I was excited. I told Mr SYW to ask Linley my midwife to come so Mr SYW rang her and said there was no hurry (in denial!) so she put a batch of scones in her oven. Ten minutes later I made him call her back and she could hear me yelling my way through a contraction, Linley grabbed the scones and jumped in the car. Ten minutes after she arrived and 5 minutes after my MIL arrived Mr C was born (in the tub), my Dad arrived and we all had scones. Well actually I spent 20 minutes delivering the placenta but don’t we forget those things so quickly? I remember at one moment thinking “I’m never going to do this again” and then as soon as he was born thinking “Wahoo! No worries!”. Adrenalin is an incredible thing.

I didn’t know what the heck I was doing but somehow, with the help of my fantastic midwife, I made it through the first 6 weeks and then the weeks and months and years all just slipped away with trials and tribulations (and a sister) along the way. It’s funny how the days seem so painfully long when you have small babies but the years seem to go so fast.

Motherhood is something I just made up as I went along (still do!). I slowly learnt to trust my own judgement and filter all the well meaning advice. I learnt how to slow my life down and remember what is really important. I remembered my own childhood and grieved again for my mother whom my children would never know. I started to understand my own mother’s actions. There’s an old adage that I’m stealing from Bricolagelife which goes:

“you can never love your mother as much as she loved you. and you never know how much your mother loved you until you have a child of your own.”

Mind you, my daughter loves to tell me “I love you more than you love me”. Lucky me :).