There is this crazy thing that happens after you’ve given birth, after everyone who wants to nosy at your baby eventually fucks off and leave you alone, once your husband, partner (or otherwise) get to escape and go back to work and you’re left on your own with this tiny human.
If like me, you read fuck all on how to look after a baby and trust your instincts ( more on this later ) to care for your new soul then you will probably have felt scared shitless.
After an hour or two it calms down and you realise that you can actually do this ? Not having anyone around to question yourself with, there’s no one to ask ‘ should I?’
And that’s it. That’s when it happens…
That’s the moment you shed your old ‘you’ skin and become officially ‘Mum‘.
At first it’s nice in your new role, you realise you’ve become the new generation of Mum. This tiny soul will ( probably ) only ever know you as Mum.
You’ll be, in my case ‘Lily’s Mum’ to all of her friends, and friends’ Mums. And they will be ‘so and so’s Mum’ to you. It’s a fond thought for a while, ‘becoming Mum’…
I couldn’t tell you exactly when it hit me that I didn’t want to be just ‘Mum’ anymore but it was probably when I realised that I hadn’t quite finished being just ‘Gylisa’.
Suddenly the nappy changes, cold dinners, cold teas, the sicky clothes, the whinging and the general ‘never on your own again‘ feeling stretches on forever…
Because once you become ‘Mum’ you don’t ever stop.
It doesn’t end when they hit 18 and you boot them out so you can finally have that bath you dreamt of when they were approximately 15 minutes old …. Once a ‘Mum’ that’s it.
You are Mum. Or somewhere in the future ‘MuUuuuuuuuUmmmmm..!?’
(You may even be promoted to ‘Grandma’ eventually, and if you’re lucky Great-Grandma… ! )
Everything you own is now Mum stuff…
Yesterday’s skinny jeans, now officially Mom-jeans. My messy bun is now a Mum bun. My Pyjamas – Mum Uniform.
It’s scary, and a bit shit too.
You might find yourself scouring through your old tagged photos of your ‘care free’ days remembering how great it was to literally just put your shoes on and ‘leave the house’
( imagine ! The luxury ! I took that for bloody granted !)
To ground myself again I remembered that yeah, this bit might be a bit shit. I might be feeling particularly mad at times and want to just run out the door.
But it ISN’T forever.
Becoming Mum doesn’t mean I can’t wear my old ‘me’ clothes. It doesn’t mean my hair style defines me and it definitely doesn’t mean I have to act differently.
I’m still me.
A bit saggier, a bit ‘Naggier’ and ALOT more tired.
But still the same old. Sometimes you need a reminder to still be ‘you’. You don’t have to be an all woman empowering ‘fuck you’ person. You can still be Boring Sandra from Beige Street if that’s who you were before and you like being that. You don’t have to start doing ‘mumsy’ things like baking and sewing socks. You can still go and get tattoos or dye your hair wierd colours and swear loads.
So yes, I’m a mum but I’m also a hundred other things, and this is your reminder that you too, are not ‘just mum‘.