For as long as I can remember have wanted to be a mum, I’ve wanted to be the one who gets the big wrap around cuddles, and the sleepy snuggles. The one can go for runs with my precious cargo and share a ice cream. I wanted a little mini me to explore the world with and dive into their imagination. I thought it would be a breeze, a walk in the park, that I would love every second of it, and couldn’t think of anything better than staying home to do all these activities.
But its not quite like that. Ill admit, most of that was a bit silly, what I was clearly imagining, was a child, not a baby.
I am very much an introvert, I can get very overwhelmed by situations, and just need space. Space became a word that was erased from my vocabulary very quickly when Archie was born, and its something I have had to deal with.
At times I have felt like my village has failed me by not coming to my rescue, and yet they are my saviours when the days are long and the coffee is few and far between.
I had no idea just how much life would change after a baby, the obvious is there, but the rest is waiting to be discovered, and sometimes its like re-inventing the wheel. Finding a way to do the things you love again, but do I still love those things anymore? At one stage I wasn’t so sure, turns out, I enjoy them for a different reason. Truth is, I don’t feel like the same person anymore, because I’m not. I don’t have a job to go back to, I don’t even know what I will ‘go back to,’ my life has changed more than just adding a baby. Its as if I have started over, I have to find my mojo again, except now I’m a mum, so I call it my mumjo.