Some of you will not understand this post.
I’m hoping it may strike a chord with at least one person as this has been eating away at me for some time.
I love Little T. My gorgeous little boy.
But I don’t love being a mother.
Not yet anyway.
I get comments from other women often. It started as soon as Little T arrived…”Oh you must just love being a mother”. I went along with it, often adding, yes but I’d underestimated how hard it was going to be.
The other prolific comment I received was “You must just miss him terribly when you go back to work”.
There are moments when I really enjoy being a Mum. Some where I question if I have made the right choice. Others where I start to think about how soon I can have another baby.
It’s a rollercoaster. The constant is my love for that little boy whose smile melts my heart.
Being a Mum does not define me. I have found it very easy to slip back into my professional role. I enjoy the 3 days where Little T is in childcare and I know he is happy whilst I get on with working which helps fulfill me (and pays the bills).
The role of mother is growing on me. I have never been particularly maternal, but it’s not for want of trying.
I see so many around me who are recent mothers who seem to shine in their new role. Let’s face it, being a parent is hard for everyone, but I wonder if it’s just me who struggles with the knowledge that the journey whilst joyous and rewarding has not been a labour of love.
I don’t believe I suffered from PND but I do feel very isolated by my natural reactions to many situations.
For what ever reason, LOVE is not a word that comes to mind when I think about my ROLE as a mother.
So it’s out there. In the public domain Something I can’t take back.
Am I alone in feeling this way?
The image above is from Oh My! Handmade Goodness. You can download your own large print version from the site here. I will be printing this out for my new office and hoping a little rubs off on me.