Mama of two

Mama of Two

Hey people across the screen! It’s been a little while right? Since I last posted (which was over TWO years ago), I got pregnant and had another baby. It’s true what they say. You lose a little bit of yourself after becoming a mother. Of course, this is not always the case and you don’t lose yourself entirely. But for me it was most definitely true. I lost a bit of me, not even in a negative or a bad way. I lost a bit of me but I gained a whole lot of me. A little more patient, a whole lot more grateful.

Since lockdown and having my second baby, we haven’t been able to travel as much due to life commitments and financial reasons. This blog page was never meant for any financial gain, or for fame or whatever. It was always about my own memories and memoir of stories along the way. Although I have always hoped that maybe one day someone would benefit from the itineraries and travel routes that we were lucky enough to take once upon a time. I sometimes also love looking at all the wonderful moments we captured over the years!

As I touch the keyboards and type without much thought, one thing is for sure. I have truly missed writing and putting my thoughts to a keyboard. This feels like therapy, this feels like my happy place, so here I am. Since motherhood has consumed all five of my senses, that is exactly what I will share. My thoughts, my feelings and all that I feel about becoming a mum.

Motherhood is waking up several times through the night. Sometimes because your child is uneasy or unsettled. But other times just because you want an excuse to check up on them. 

Motherhood is craving Nutella on toast but not being able to eat it because your child is allergic to nuts.

Motherhood is sitting down to have a hot mug of tea but just as you take a sip, you hear a little voice saying “poo mummy”. The tea can wait, you don’t want your baby to have a sore bottom. So when you return you drink cold tea, still satisfied and happy your child isn’t constipated.

Mum guilt is the kind of guilt that is unimaginable, unexplainable and quite frankly unbelievable. To me, it’s a bit like grief. It’s the kind of pain that is overwhelming and takes over all aspects of your life. It doesn’t necessarily get any easier, but you grow around it and each stage teaches you a lesson you didn’t know you needed in life.

There are days, when you are physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted and you have nothing else to give. But as a mum, you have no choice but to give. Give and give again. Give every bit of what you have, what you can and even what you don’t have it, you give. And what you get back in return is priceless. The cheeky smiles, twinkling eyes. Those infectious giggles and those loud stomps.  

Those are the moments that I cherish and look forward to.

I wear my stretch marks with pride and I want to show off my cellulites as they remind me of how I spent 18 months growing two humans. I don’t want to hide away from my greying hair. I want to show my children that you can love your body, just the way it is. I want them to know that their body is perfect, no matter how it looks.  I want them to look after it, care for it but never be ashamed of it. 

What a turbulent journey it has been so far. But here we are. A 4 year old and a 1 year old later, I feel so much stronger and happier. I pray to always cherish these moments of gratitude. As I type this, I can already feel my past wounds finally healing, those painful memories fading and the scars becoming a part of my skin. Engraved gracefully in different parts of my body. 

Your presence is making me hold onto optimism. I am embracing my strength.


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