First time mum/referee/ sleeve snot wiper to a wild toddler. Designated household bum changer. Blogging about this motherhood malarkey from a refreshingly honest and unfiltered perspective.

Not what I thought


It's not the life I thought it'd be, the life of parenting. I do love it, really I do but I had pictured it so very differently from how it has turned out, in both good and bad ways. I guess I had this ideal stored away in my head of how it would be, how it is 'supposed' to be and when it flipped to mirror the complete opposite of what I had envisioned, it was a little crushing, a bit of a shock. 

I wanted to be a mother. It felt right. I was ecstatic when the little blue + washed over that tiny pee stick window. I felt a love I can't even begin to express soar through me when I saw him wriggle on the ultrasound screen for the first time. My heart imploded with joy when I felt his forceful little kicks every night and the feeling of holding him in my arms for the very first time, words could only diminish. 

But the reality is a lot harsher. It's wonderful. It's truly the best thing that has ever happened to me and I can't stress that enough. But its so lonely. It's repetitive. It's dull.
I think the fact that it's dull correlates with the loneliness, it's so lonely, and I can't fucking stand the loneliness.
I think because it's the ever same routine of early rises, dirty nappies, running late and having nothing to do with your time.

I didn't expect to be riding this roller-coaster alone. It's the one thing I never wanted when I had children, I didn't want set days and separate bedrooms, two homes and lots of confusion. I didn't want to be labelled the bad mum. I didn't want to have to 'share' my child. I didn't want to be the young single mum but I knew I was and so I made the conscious decision to become the single parent I always had been. 

But it isn't what I want. Its not what I thought. I want to be a mother, of course. But I don't want to do it alone. I can but I wish I didn't have too. It made me stronger and I wouldn't change how things have happened but this life is getting lonely now. I assumed it would be easier because I could take control and just get the job done how I wanted. I thought it would essentially be easier because I wouldn't have to argue with someone over frivolous or differing opinions or our contrasting parenting methods. We would have our arranged days on who had the kid and exchange the amicable, rehearsed smile at the drop off point and be on our way. I figured it would be better.
I figured...

Whilst, it was the right decision, because I knew I wasn't happy, because I knew we would eventually have crumbled further down the line had we kept trying to glue together shattering glass, it was still painful. It was still heartbreaking because I saw my new future ahead and I felt already pulled down by the loneliness.

I stare at strangers in parks, in supermarkets and I'm envious of their simple lives. I feel annoyed at their blatant ungratefulness they reek of. I'm jealous. I'm envious. I'm a little sad.
I watch the family of three stroll around the shop, throwing items in the trolley, exchanging the odd comment, a smile, and I feel that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach because I know it's so much more than whats on surface, and they probably aren't even remotely aware.
It's not just carelessly lobbing in the same old items for the routine meals, it's the family dinner every night. It's having that bond, that set time every night where you sit down and talk about how your day has been, it's conversing in small talk and feeling content. It's the small wave of peace that aids your need for love.

I want those little things. I wish for simple moments shared. I long for nothing more than someone to share it all with; the sleepless nights and early mornings, somebody to be there for the tough days, help carry the burden. Someone to spiel about my day too, or how the kid was being a right little shit.
Instead of browsing the shops alone, not needing anything but to waste the time. Instead of dragging myself to every park or playgroup because I can't bear to spend another day in the house, just me and the baby. Instead of having to split Christmas' and feeling alone. Instead of pitifully attempting to juggle it all myself, instead of the attitude to everything now being, "that'll do, I guess." because I'm just too exhausted to care.

I love my messy little life. I do, I truly do and I wouldn't change it for the world. The last year has taught me love and patience. It's taught me to appreciate everyone, to relish in every moment, no matter how insignificant it may appear at the time. I've realized just how strong I can be and how nothing can stop me anymore.

But I still feel my heart sting a little. I still feel the nudge of envy at the families who have what I've been waiting for, what I desperately seek for my son. For us both.
It's not what I thought it'd be. It's better. Because my son and I have each other, we have our bond and I know deep down that if that's all we ever have, it'll be enough.
But my heart misses what it didn't have.



2 comments

  1. Never say never Mrs. Families come in all shapes and sizes and yours could extend. You just need to believe it nd hold on to that. You are an awesome mum and don't let anyone tell you otherwise, you've given your whole life for Arthur and when he's old enough he will understand and appreciate that because you will have raised him to.

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  2. I totally agree misses. I think I was in a bit of a bleak place when I wrote this post. I'm definitely feeling its possible now and that I could have that strong family unit with how things have changed recently. Thank you so much honey, it's all a learning curve!

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