If you had told me a few years ago I was going to be a 27-year-old single mum I would have had a quick response to that. I highly doubt that, it won’t happen to me “it’s not part of my plan”. As if everything prior had been a series of purposeful plans…Not
I learnt of my pregnancy in the later stages, 21 weeks to be exact. It wasn’t until my mum commented on my weight that I had even contemplated it. Of course as you would imagine there were plenty of other signs, but I chose to ignore those. They merely built up the case once it was established.
Being so far along I didn’t have much time to go through the normal emotions someone who is pregnant normally would. I did manage denial for a further 2 days until the bloods came back because I was very confident I didn’t want this at that very moment. So once the doctor worked out my gestation my choices were “keep it, or adoption”. At 25 (at the time) that was a no brainer. But it didn’t bring joy and excitement making that decision as I am sure it does for majority of mothers to be. From then on all I could tell myself was this is happening, deal with it. You have support, it won’t be that bad. Looking back at what I was telling myself then, I wasn’t far from the truth.
I had an easy going pregnancy. As I said, it wasn’t until 5 months in I even knew about it. I was still working out 6 days a week, sometimes twice a day. I had no sickness, food cravings or discomfit. Only that, that comes with an enlarged belly and limited sleeping positions towards the end. I think because it wasn’t planned I didn’t like the idea of being pregnant as I thought of myself as fat. I know that must sound silly but I had other plans for my body that year. I was told on occasions I wore it well and looked amazing, a pregnant goddess even. Which made me smile for a moment because I thought I looked like a pepperoni pizza, round with spots.
The day my daughter arrived my family and I were so not ready, but my mum and my daughter’s dad made it in time to see her enter the world. It was an emotional drive home from the hospital 2 days later because I knew deep down my life had just changed enormously. I will be honest and say even after she was born I still wasn’t feeling what people said I would. I didn’t hold her immediately and gush, I didn’t feel like a mum even though she was now here. Thereafter I took every day as it came. She was a dream of a baby, she slept a lot – fed within 10 minutes and was back to sleep. She didn’t really interact much until the 2-3 month mark.
Now, nearly 2 years on, I have realised that everything I initially felt or didn’t feel, eventually came or went in it’s own time.
I didn’t have maternal instinct to start out but I did have an open mind, always. My daily life has restrictions, which I battle with occasionally. I often feel alone, but some days I crave the quiet. I don’t have a partner to lean on when days get tough, but I have parents who pick up the phone whenever it rings.
I have a happy, well natured, cheeky little 1-and-a-half-year-old. She draws the attention of the young and old and will literally stop traffic as she walks. I like to think I have had a substantial affect on the child she is, which is ultimately a reflection on the person I am. If I am proud of the individual she is – I must be proud of myself.