Ode To Motherhood

 


From the time I was young, I knew I was destined to be a mother, partially because I always wanted that traditional role and also because I had just always imagined it that way. It felt like it was just meant to be. 


I was a very girly little girl, who enjoyed dress ups, Barbie and Disney films. I spent my days with a baby doll on my hip and a magic milk bottle in my hand. I'd name them, dress and redress them over and over, change them and carry a gaggle of babies around. My favourite dolls were Dolly Bri (named after my cousin Briony) and Thomas, a baby in a crocheted outfit with closed eyes. I distinctly remember tying my dressing gown around my waist with my baby up under my shirt. 




When my brother came along, nearly six years after me without even knowing it, I think I kind of saw him as partly mine. He was a firecracker with grey blue eyes and a full head of glossy curls. Sometimes I was one of few who could understand him. Or at times calm him down. So without even realizing, I sometimes stepped into the role of pseudo-parent, much to my mother's chagrin. Funny to think now how often she'd say to me, "Jessica, you're not his mum!" 🤣


My Mum came from a big family. She was one of ten, so I had a plethora of cousins and most of her siblings had a least two or more children, so we were always surrounded by the ruckus of family. Some younger, some older than me. As new babies were born into the family, we were taught how to play with them, feed them and change them. It was always totally optional, of course, but once I hit around eight or nine I really enjoyed the "helping." Watching my Mum and Aunties interact with babies taught me a lot. 


The older I got the more I helped and honestly the more I understood the struggle of teen parents. I had no desire for that life. I wanted to do my best at school, maintain my friendships and figure out where I stood on the whole God thing. But it had helped me realise, in the right season of life, when I felt ready, I definitely wanted to experience motherhood and all it's beautiful chaos. 



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Scar

There's Something There That Wasn't There Before

A Definition, Not A Diagnosis