I have twenty teeth

I'll admit that I was suffering from motherguilt because I had never taken Che to the dentist. Motherguilt has incredible power; it makes me ponder my choices, it keeps me on my toes. Sometimes it makes me really organised, organised enough to make an appointment with the dentist and keep it. Daniel and I had been talking about the dentist with Che quite regularly - how important it is to get check-ups to ensure your teeth stay strong and healthy. His one question was: "After we go to the dentist, can we get ice-cream?" Our response: "Ice-cream goes against everything the dentist stands for."

I was a little apprehensive and envisioned a writhing, unhappy three-year-old clenching his teeth together. The book in the reception area helped - the story of a young boy who opens his mouth wide so the dentist can count all his teeth! As soon as Che hopped on that mechanical chair his mouth was open - he was eager and waiting. I was pleasantly in awe. He has twenty teeth, thinks the cleaning paste is 'yucky' and only had trouble keeping his mouth open when he was giggling so hard the dentist has to take the utensils out of his mouth.

I squeezed a check-up in straight after - still no fillings! But...I was asked, politely, if I tend to clench my teeth sometimes. "It's just that there's a bit of wear on the front teeth," she explained to me. I was lying there, thinking about all those times where as a mum I get so frustrated that I clench - and hard. "Yes," I admitted. "I do...and how bad is that - for my teeth and my parenting." Oh motherguilt, you're still there, even after the dentist.

when che met val

Literally hours after I peed on the stick to confirm that there was indeed a tiny little baby inside me, I phoned the local hospital to request Val as my midwife. Val has been catching babies for longer than Daniel or I have been alive - there is so much reassurance in her 34 years of midwifery. She's a passionate midwife too - passionate about guiding women through labour and birth, whether in a hospital or at home. In 2008 she was awarded NSW Midwife of the Year and since then her name has been passed around the circles of pregnant women here on the Central Coast - hence the need to phone as early as possible in pregnancy to request her support. She told me that some women phone her the morning after the possible conception - just in case.

She sees her role as a witness in labour, watching and listening, only speaking when she needs to. Every visit she tells me that my baby will just be born - it will just happen, because that's what my body was made to do. I am nature and nature always works things out.

Val currently works from a low-risk birthing centre and is working towards developing a homebirth option in the very near future. If I were to choose to have a homebirth I would need to employ a private midwife which would cost me above and beyond $5000 with no rebate from medicare. The birthing centre I have chosen is the closest thing to birthing at home - if (when) all goes well I will be home in bed within four hours and Val will visit me for post-natal care for a week after the baby's arrival. I have all the support and encouragement of a fabulous midwife and thanks to the Australian health system, it doesn't cost me a cent. Not one.

Considering Val will be coming into our home for baby's first week Daniel and I felt it was important that Che meet her. So on Wednesday we took the long drive to the hospital, talking along the way about the fact that Ommi or Mama will be looking after him when it's time for the baby to be born. He was so curious and inquisitive, asked lots of questions (mostly 'why?') and got to choose whether the baby's heartbeat sounded like galloping horses or a train on a track. Val put the doppler on his chest after she had listened to baby and with the humour that she brings to everything, wondered if he thought there was a baby inside him too. I have no doubt that she'll make me laugh in my labour and laughter is really the best thing for dilating, relaxing and surrendering into the journey.

We took Che to look at the beautiful birthing suites with their big baths and comfy cushions and then left for home. He was exhausted, so much to think about, and for these past few days he has been saying that Val is the baby's teacher and Muma's midwife.

Baby is already head down, bum up, spine against belly. In a perfect birthing position.

mother's day and a prayer

When Che came home from Montessori last week with a hand felted oatmeal soap, a little heart tag and a very big smile, I felt every bit the Muma of a 3.5 year old. There is something about a handmade gift from school that spells love. And family. All the kisses and cuddles in the world, tied with string, a reminder that I am his Muma and will be, forever. Yesterday when he wished me a happy mother's day I thanked him for making me a Muma. And for changing my world.

A beautiful friend of mine emailed me a prayer last week. One for all mothers, the world over. I am sure you all know someone who could benefit from hearing it, reading it or receiving it.

We pray

For new mothers, coming to terms with new responsibility;

For expectant mothers, wondering and waiting;

For those who are tired, stressed or depressed;

For those who struggle to balance the tasks of work and family;

For those who are unable to feed their children due to poverty;

For those whose children have physical, mental or emotional disabilities;

For those who have children they do not want;

For those who raise children on their own;

For those who have lost a child;

For those who care for the children of others;

For those whose children have left home;

And for those whose desire to be a mother has not been fulfilled.

Bless all mothers, that their love may be deep and tender,

And that they may lead their children to know and do what is good,

Living not for themselves alone, but for God and for others.

Hear our prayer.

PS. The winner of the Keepsakes giveaway (thanks to the random number generator for choosing) is Kristi. Congratulations and Happy Mother's Day lovely lady. x

opposites

This morning was completely enjoyable. Peaceful even. This evening has been everything but. I understand opposites and how they work. Sometimes I don't understand my three-year-old. Seemingly fine one minute, a raging boy the next. Tears and the smiles. Up then down. This way, that way. My patience is being challenged like never ever before. I know he loves me so why do I seem to be on this side of the rebellion? I think it's time to consult some books. Recommendations appreciated. Pretty please. And thanks for listening (reading).

my answer

'Tomorrow' became the end of the week. Time is flying by and the busyness of Spring is intoxicating.

Che just put liquid soap on my toothbrush and brushed hs teeth. And swallowed it. "Yuk," he said. Hmmm. At least it was organic.

I was a little surprised about your responses. So many of you became mums in your early twenties. Inspiring!

I always thought I'd be a young mum. I had no doubt in my mind that before I was 25 I would have a little one in my arms.

And so when my doctor told me that yes, I was expecting, I was a little surprised but not shocked. Almost three years and nine months later I wouldn't change a thing.

And yet the one thing that seems to be the deciding factor in becoming a parent is money.

When Daniel and I discovered we were going to be parents we didn't even own a toaster. And we survived. We flourished even.

I have been watching One Born Every Minute weekly since in started screening on SBS and regardless of the kind of births (and birth support people which, although shocking, represents the stereotype of the typical support person, scary, I know) shown, one subject that keeps popping up in interviews with new parents is money.

The young couples seem to comment on their complete lack of cash. The older parents who are financially stable and well established say that nothing, not anything, can compare to the joy of being a parent. Consciously, I'm sure, the editors have put these clips together, one after the other, a perfect juxtaposition.

We cannot deny that we live in a world largely dictated by money. And I know that if I had four teenage boys who inhaled a loaf of sourdough and a bottle of milk like Daniel does, there is no way I could afford organic food.

Which leads me to my next question: will you/did you let money affect your choices regarding children?

when did you become a mum?

In today's Sun Herald's Sunday Life liftout there is an article titled "Prime Time." It features the doe-eyed beauty Natalia Vodianove - a mum-of-three at the youthful age of 25. While the term 'young-y mummy' is used (I detest the pop-culture slang of it all) it brings to light the rise of young mothers - those having their babies in their early twenties. It seems that the past five years have been all about the older mother, rising infertility rates and the race to conceive before nature decides otherwise.

I birthed Che when I was 23. Over the past three years I have taught over 200 women pre-natal yoga and only a handful have been younger than me. It's been a beautiful experience to meet and share the journey of pregnancy with women of all ages and from all walks of life. However, it has become clear to me, after many discussions with pregnant women, that it is rare to decide to start a family and fall pregnant soon after. I think, in fact, it is bordering on mythical that society thinks it happens this way. While some babies are conceived in a cloud of love/lust/surprise others take years of trying/alternative therapies/medical assistance to arrive. I think so often we have no control over when we become parents. Sure the 'choice' is there but there are so many other factors that play a part.

Which brings me to an interesting question. When did you become a mum and do you believe it was the right time for you? I'll post my answer tomorrow.

Happy Sunday.

a good mum

When there is grass growing through the peg basket it's a sure sign of neglect. I'm ok with that. What I find most difficult about being a mum is guilt. There is such a thing as motherguilt, you know. Because my life has become that much busier in the past few months there are some things that just don't make it onto my 'to do' list. And sure I like the idea of a spotless home, an empty laundry basket, fresh loaves of bread pulled straight from the oven and a happy family...but that picture isn't an honest one of my life right now. The happy family is it. And I suppose that's all that really matters.

I've just been asked to work one more day from home. As a writer, and because writing is my art, I'm taking this as a promotion. My first professional promotion. It feels damn good to be paid so well for my art. But with that extra day comes less time for everything else in my life and I'm well aware that things will have to give. I can't do everything.

Oh hello guilt, I was expecting you.

Why? Because that's one less day to be a good mum. And what is a good mum? It seems programmed in us, us mothers, that we must be everything to everyone around us in order to be a good mum. I'm going to say this because I feel it is my truth - most of the time the blogs I read inspire, motivate and encourage me. But sometimes, they make me feel guilty. They don't help with my own unrealistic, perhaps idealistic, expectations of what a good mum is. Why? Because I can't find the time (and sometimes the inclination) to bake crackers, knit a piece of clothing a week, organise daily in-house art classes, grow vegies, have a homemade dinner prepped every night and never complain.

And so my mantra is to never bring guilt into my role as mum. I don't want to be the muma who doesn't think she's doing good by her son because of a lack of baking, cleaning, crafting, gardening. I am not that mum. I am me - Che's mum.

And I know, deep down, that he wouldn't swap me for the world. That's his truth and I'll keep reminding myself of it.