With my (furry, four-legged, but still very needy) son
As I’m walking through the woods with my dog one day, an adorable three year-old with springy curls steps out of nowhere and chirps: “Are you a mommy?” I smile at her. “Not yet”, I say.
But it gets me thinking.
Over the past ten years or so I have cultivated a side of me that was previously dormant; the side that is loving, caring, giving, patient and willing to listen. The side of that gives a shit how you feel. Until I was thirty I did a good impression of someone who gave a shit but quite frankly, I preferred to talk at you than to listen. And, if things got sticky, I got outta there. WhiIst we’re on the subject, I should probably admit that, if left to my own devises I can still be pretty selfish and inconsiderate at times. But I’ve been working on it.
My favourite post-partum client
The transformation began in my Twelve Step programme, where sponsees desperate to overcome the effects of their addictions would call me at all hours, blurting out their problems and looking to me for answers (of which I had none) and a dose of reality (which I could sometimes muster).
My education continued as a birth doula, where I offer physical, mental and emotional support to women throughout their pregnancy and birthing experience. It’s not easy to be patient with someone when you haven’t slept for two nights and they’re screaming at your face, but as a doula my job is to love and support her, no matter what.
Mothering the mother
And finally, in the last couple of years I have had the privilege to work with my dear friend Elisabeth as we create safe spaces for young women to explore their hopes, fears and dreams, to uncover themselves and to cultivate their own tribe. During our retreats and the “Brave Conversations” that we host, we practice our own courageous vulnerability in order to model it for them, we talk about the things that feel shameful in ourselves in order to give others permission to do the same and we love on the girls hard; never too tired or busy to dole out another hug or to dry a teary eye.
These are the things that mothers do.
With one of our “Legacy Out Loud” tribe of young women
And so, as I sit here - three months after my official “due date” - I recognise that I am a care-giver to many in need of a non-judgmental ear, a spiritual spanking or a warm hug. I might not technically be a mother but I do “mothering” all the time. And I’m so grateful for every damn second of it.
Trying not to parent my boyfriend’s son (and instead, to simply witness and love on him without parenting)