Many, many moons ago I became a mum.
Like most mums I was overjoyed when our beautiful boy was born.
He was known as the big boy on the block, being one of the more ‘sizeable’ babies in the maternity ward at the time – no mean feat given you can blow me over in a strong wind!
Mothering came quite naturally to me. I thank my older sister for that, for bringing her two beautiful daughters – my nieces – into the world while I was in my teens. Changing nappies, burping a baby, cleaning up after them, entertaining them, really wasn’t a problem for me. Of course at that time I wasn’t privy to the sleep deprivation or boobs the size of small countries or deflecting questions like ‘When are you having another one?’. I just enjoyed my nieces, caring for them under the tutelage of my sister, mum and grandma, and handed them back when it was time to leave.
Like most new mums, when our son was born I doted on him. And to be honest I still do, 13 years later. But if I reflect on our journey over the past 13 years there are three very obvious stages to our growth together, as two sensitive souls in a not-so-sensitive world.
