Identity

Monday evening, a rush to get to the doctor's office on time after work. It's just a routine check-up, Téo's not due for another 10 days.

You're fully effaced and 3cm dilated.

My mouth drops open in shock. I'm not ready for a baby.

He arrives the next morning anyway.

-------

Walking down the street, I pass a woman pushing a pram. I feel no connection to her whatsoever.

Even though I too am out with my baby.

-------

I refuse to buy a nappy bag. The pastel colours, the cutesy cartoon figures, the practical backpack design, I want none of these. I won't let my style be defined by the baby product industry. I will only buy something that fits me. Something that does not scream parent.

------

I'm in Rome for the weekend, child-free and with a friend. I'm enjoying the visit back to life before kids: cafés, shopping, a late night at the bar. Then, introducing me to her friends, my friend mentions I have a child. I am annoyed. I want them to see me, just me, and not a mother.

-----

I'm trying to have a conversation with a friend over lunch, but it's punctuated every second sentence with a repeating stream of admonishments. Use your knife and fork - sit properly at the table - stop annoying your brother - you need to say "excuse me", not just interrupt - don't speak with your mouth full - where's the please.

I hate sounding like a such a mother.

-----

A colleague has come to our house. I only met her a few weeks before, for a project we are both working on. She doesn't have children.

I am a little uncomfortable over dinner. She has only known me in a professional setting where we seemed to connect... but here I am now, fussing around kids' meals and bedtimes and always with those admonishments. Will she think less of me after seeing me as a mother?

----

The kids want her to be there while they get ready for bed. While we're all reading books, she reaches out and touches my knee.

This is really lovely.

And it's like something leaves me then, a tight wall of resistance just puffs away and along with it the image of motherhood I've constructed and projected based on my own prejudices and fears. I am a mother. I am a person. I am me.