Mother’s Day

This was my first Mother’s Day.

It didn’t start with a handmade card covered in tiny handprints. No, it started with the infamous leg cramps that come with pregnancy. I got them in one leg and then the other probably an hour later.

There was no small child bringing me a present that their dad had bought to give me…or in the case of one of my friends, had bought herself for her husband to give her who then gave it to their daughter to give to her…in front of her…

No, instead I was greeted by my Predator Cub with a kick/punch to the left side of my abdomen, which was pretty cute because this is how I start most mornings now and I love it. It’s like Predator’s way of saying good morning.

I would also very much like it if it could stay a thing that only happens while inside of me. I do not look forward to being kicked/punched in the gut by an actual fully formed child.

Matt made me a cooked breakfast and then I went to work.

While there I served dozens of people frantically buying chocolates and flowers before running off to see their mum/wife/MIL.

I dealt with people who accused us of scamming them out of money and asking to see our credentials to collect donations for a charity that our company has chosen to support. One woman even refused to donate because children are still dying…

Yeah…

Had someone else call up asking if we sell Plan B.

Had someone else have a go at me because I didn’t accuse someone of shoplifting despite having no proof that they’d stolen anything, because there was a very good chance that they would start throwing punches. After I told her that I wouldn’t be accusing them of anything because I didn’t feel like getting punched in the face she said, ‘That’s a shame.’

All in all, it was a pretty average day.

I called mum on the way home to retell her happy Mother’s Day. She also informed me how my brother had one upped all of us and dropped in to see her with flowers. Seriously, this kid used to need reminding to text Happy Birthday and now he’s dropping in on her birthday and Mother’s Day?

We’ll see who comes out on top in the end. I’m taking her to lunch after we go to my OB appointment this week. So not only does she get to see her next grandchild but we’re going to lunch and spending lots of time together.

Look no one said sibling rivalry was pretty but at least it’s competing to show who loves mum more.

Then I got home to see that Matt had cleaned the entire house and organized to more rooms. He even dusted for shits sake.

I swear to God this guy is nesting more than I am and I love it. He’s literally doing half of my job for me. In a few months when I go on maternity leave and start my own nesting, I won’t have to deep clean and reorganize everything because he’s already done it. I love it.

We had a steak dinner and watched TV together.

There was no flowers and the chocolate I ate I had bought for myself.

It was perfect. Matt knew that I didn’t need flowers, he knew that there was chocolate in the pantry already and if I wanted chocolate, I would get it myself. He also knew that what would make me happiest when I came home from work was seeing the house spotless and organized. He knew that seeing the bed made and the entertainment unit dusted would make me happier than flowers could.

Not to put down anyone who does love getting flowers and chocolates. My love language just so happens to be acts of service rather than gifts and whether Matt understands that or not, he knows it.

It almost made me forget the comment that was made by someone at work about how I had to wait until next year because I’m not a mum yet.

This person knows I’m pregnant. They ask about it quite often. However, in their mind growing a person and stressing about their wellbeing and what’s going into your body because it’s going into theirs and imagining the future achievements and stressors that that little demon is going to bring home to you, does not count as being a mum.

Yeah, I didn’t throw up for four and a half months and get stretch marks and put on almost 8kg already to not be considered a mum. I did not wake up four times last night with leg cramps, in alternating legs, or be kept awake by my child doing the goddamn cha-cha to not be considered a mum. I have not stressed about money and the future and when I need to go back to work after having this baby to not be considered a mum.

And all because of what? Because I haven’t physically expelled the tiny parasite from my body yet? Because it’s still in there leeching all the nutrients from my body as it grows?

I call bullshit.

I have been a mum since the moment those double lines appeared on that stick. I have felt like a mum since the first time I was both dizzy and nauseous at the same time.

Matt has been a dad since the same moment as me. He probably won’t feel like a dad until he’s holding the not so little alien looking creature in his arms. That hasn’t stopped him from being with me every step of the way. The fact that he doesn’t feel like a dad yet has not stopped him from getting excited about getting the baby’s room ready. It hasn’t stopped him from stressing about money and thinking about our future as a family.

This person’s comment made me wonder who else she doesn’t consider a mum, because if I’m not a mum yet because my baby is still growing inside me, then what about everyone else?

What about the mum’s who don’t have any biological kids of their own, but they’ve taken on someone else’s? The foster mums, the step mums, the aunts and best friends who have taken in their loved one’s kids because tragedy has struck? What about the mums who have gone through round after round of IVF? The mums who have lost their baby before they can come to term.

I would dare this person to tell that woman that she wasn’t a mum because her baby died before it could be born. See how far it gets them. What about the mums who did birth their own kids but lost them, whether it be because the kids died, or they were taken away? They don’t suddenly stop being mums just because they’ve lost their kids.

I served a man who before he left asked if I was a mother, I told him my baby was due in September. He said to me, ‘Happy Mother’s Day.’ He didn’t care that my baby wasn’t born yet, as far as he was concerned, I am a mother now.

So Happy Mother’s Day to all the mums out there.

Expecting mums, mums of rainbow babies, mums of healthy babies and sick babies. Mums who have lost their kids and mum’s whose kids have left them. Mums who have found kids who needed a mum and taken them in, even if it’s only for a little while.

I hope the day brought joy.