I didn’t mean to fall pregnant the first time. Well, I like to describe it as a deliberate surprise. My now husband and I, we’d been thinking about kids, about having them ‘one day’. But we were in our late 20s and we didn’t realise that ‘one day’ had arrived.
There was a night, filled with moments of deep and pure connection, of joy in family and a sense of something momentous between us. In the middle of the night, drunk on love (and at least three bottles of pinot noir) we thought, ‘What the heck! Let’s give it a whirl.’
William turns five in a couple of months and I often caution young couples, be very careful when you’re drinking love and pinot. When they say it only takes one time, they’re not lying.
I might be slightly wiser about parenthood now, but at the time I was pregnant I was absolutely, 100 per cent clueless. I couldn’t conceive of what life would be like after my child was born. Would I still be myself? What will change?
At the time, I asked a dear friend of mine, what is it like to have a child? He replied telling me that you simply cannot compare life before children to life after children. They’re completely, irrevocably different and there’s no point trying to make sense of it.
There are big changes, and there are little changes.
My ideal Saturday night is now Netflix and chill (chilled wine and ice cream, thank you very much). And a sleep in is defined by making it to 7:30am. The house is filled with toys; the china is packed away. A fancy dinner out is the Pancake Parlour, and movie night is a Pixar cartoon.