In a few short weeks everything is going to change in our little world. For the past two and a bit years, it’s been just us. You and me. While you are so lucky to have the most amazing father and grandparents, for the main part, it’s been the two of us navigating this sometimes muddled up world of motherhood.
We’ve spent almost all our waking hours together since Jan 17th 2012 when you arrived into the world and turned me into a mother. A mother! Me! It was a concept that was so familiar yet so alien until it actually happened. All of a sudden, the teeny bottom that had been tucked up under my ribs and little fists that had pummelled my belly belonged to a real life baby. A baby who was mine.
We didn’t have the easiest start to things. There was the breastfeeding which you probably don’t remember but was a bit of an uphill battle. Then there was the mental health stuff, which I really hope you don’t remember. The OCD and PND that struck and made me wonder if I was going any of this mothering thing the right way. I used to cry as I fed you of an evening, filled with a sadness that you were stuck with me as a mother. I thought you deserved more. A better mother. A mother who wasn’t plagued with doubt, fear and insecurity. You were perfect in every way, and I wasn’t. And I felt guilty for that. I made up for it by loving you as intensely as possibly. It is my absolute wish that you never felt anything other than love in your first few months of life. That you never managed to see what was going on behind my smiles and the songs we’d sing together every morning and night before bed.
Slowly however, we got through the worst of it and the fog lifted. I say ‘we’ because you my darling were the one who pulled your mother through the dark clouds. While your daddy was my rock, you were my anchor, guiding me back to the surface and out of my head. Every single tablet I took, every single therapy session I sat through I did with the knowledge that while I didn’t always feel I deserved the title, you had picked me and it was time for me to step up to the plate and be your mother.
Life slowly returned to a new kind of normal. You were and still are what occupied the majority of my days. You grew and I grew. I started to see myself in you (even though you were and still are the spitting image of your dad). I started to get a taste of what motherhood could feel like. The sweetness of the experience. Our days developed more structure and we found ourselves part of a community of other mums and bubs. We made friends, friends that we are so lucky to still have in our lives, even after leaving the house we brought you home to and moving away from the city.
As you’ve gotten older, you’ve become less fragile baby who kind of rolled along with the action and more like my little buddy. We’re a team, you and I. We do our days together, whether it’s the boring stuff like grocery shopping or the more exciting, we do it as a twosome. You’re at an age now where we chat, endlessly, about everything and it’s no longer a one sided conversation. The first time you said ‘Mama’ was one the best things I’ve ever heard in my life. Now that you say it on am hourly basis, I still love it. You remind me every time you say it that I am your mama. Me. Just as it was on that very first day, I still struggle to wrap my head around the idea.
I’m constantly amazed by the new words and sentences you seem to learn every week and I don’t think I’ll ever tire of seeing how proud you look when you master a tricky phrase or a new skill. When you tug me over to show me something that you’ve built or made, it pretty much makes my heart want to burst wide open. When I watch you, usually without you even realising, I still can’t believe the little person you’ve grown into. And when you wrap your arms around my neck and just want to be cuddled, alongside your favourite bear, I start to think that, somehow, I’ve done something right.
In a couple of weeks you’ll become a big brother. This is a big deal for us both. You don’t realise it yet but soon there will be another little person wanting to be scooped up by my arms. I’ve told your daddy that I’m scared of what’s to come. Of it no longer being just the two of us. How I wonder where on earth I’ll find the love I have for you for your sister. How the arrival of an unpreditctable element will impact our relationship. When I’m suddenly a mother of two and not just ‘Ollie’s mum.’ Our well formed routine will be shaken up. My attention will be diverted, sometimes for what might seem like a really long time.
I want you to know though Ollie, on the eve of all these changes, that no matter what the future throws up, you are still my everything. The title will soon be shared with your sister but my love for you, my appreciation for the person you’ve helped me become, will never, ever change. I will never be able to accurately tell you just how much you’ve changed me. I’m not sure you’ll ever know the extent of the love I have for you. Maybe when you have your own kids, you’ll start to get a taste of it but until then, I’ll do my best to show you everyday that you are loved and appreciated for the unique and wonderful little person you are.
While I’m not sure how fate and all that stuff works, I think somehow that you were always meant for me. To come into my life and our family. To weather the initial storms and come out the other side so strongly bonded to me that it’s sometimes a little scary. For whatever reason, you chose me and I will love you forever.
Linking up with Grace over at ‘With Some Grace‘ for FYBF