I hadn’t always wanted to join the club of motherhood. Becoming a mum? Yes. But the ‘club’? Not so much. I’d seen mothers in the park, meeting in clucky cacophonous broods preening amidst a forest of designer prams. I’d lean in to eavesdrop: their conversation always seemed to be about the shade of their offspring excreta. I certainly wasn’t ever going to join a group like THAT!
But then at around 37, an intense baby craving took over me. I dreamed of all the things motherhood would bring, including being in the ‘Big Club’. There, nobody could callously revel in letting me know I ‘wouldn’t understand’ anything child-related, because I was ‘not a mum.’ I became so sick of hearing that!
Watch: A spoken word video staring Laura Bryne articulating the contradiction of pressures that mothers face in their daily lives. Post continues after video.
As an older mum, and a Solo Mum by Choice, I’d been through a lot of unusual stuff to get pregnant. I craved normality. I was even ready to discuss baby poo! And to sit in a circle of fluttery breast-feeders exchanging nappy cream recommendations.
I would bond with the other newbies of motherhood, and my baby and I would make lifelong friends. I just knew it.