“Oh my God it’s a baby. It’s MY baby”, I screamed as the midwife placed my first-born son upon my body as I lay, exhausted in the birthing suite.
Despite having had my allotted nine months warning, I was in no way prepared. Sure, I had the Moses basket that he’d never sleep in, the cute baby grows which – it turned out – would be miles too big, I even had a bulk supply of nappies. But I was entirely unprepared for the most important part of becoming a mum: love. It flooded out of me faster than the after birth.
Is it any wonder I was ill-prepared though? Look around you in the build up to Valentines’ day and we are given a very clear message on what the pinnacle of love is according to the Western world: a partner.
I had that once too. Well, a few times if truth be told, including with my son’s father, the man beside me as I screamed those words after almost 24 hours of labour. Less than a year later, he was gone.
At first, I succumbed to those dreams of married bliss, despite knowing full well that nightmares were often more common. My friends in relationships became less and less interested in hanging out. Walking down the stairs to another night in front of mindless telly became almost unbearable; I was left alone.
Entering the single parent world, I quickly learned that the stigma and lack of understanding was everywhere. From politicians blaming us for ‘broken Britain’, to journalists calling us ‘work shy’. And whilst this is about as far from the truth as possible (our children do well and almost 70% of us are in paid employment), there were of course challenges and moments of isolation.
Yet over the months and years I realised I wasn’t missing out as a single parent; I was gaining something priceless; a bond like nothing else. Just ask anyone raised by a single parent (mum, or dad), and they will tell you the same.
Three years after my divorce, I was back in the same hospital birthing my second son. This time there was no man beside me, instead I had conceived my child with the help of a kindly sperm donor.
Now, almost three years further down the line, this valentine’s day instead of sitting down to a fancy meal for two (take away, of course), like all the adverts are telling me to, I’ll be snuggling up to my two boys. But whilst the rom-coms insist that’s not the way it’s supposed to end, I know that they just never had a single mum write their script.
New mums will know all about the so-called ‘forth trimester’. The period when child and mother should be as one, it’s supposed to last three months. As I curl up beside my two-and-a-half-year-old in the dim winter morning light, and let my lips gently skim against his cheek, I wonder if I can eek it out a little longer.
I reach over my youngest to his seven-year-old brother and stroke his face, still the softest I’ve ever felt. Even three decades of this would never be enough.
The littlest is the first to wake, “hello”, he says sitting up-right before placing his pudgy arms around me, “hello”, I reply. My eldest murmurs in his sleep then turns to nuzzle his head into my neck; “hello”, he says. A round robin soon ensues. As we throw the word around, all three of us begin to smile. Even at their tender age, they understand this is a special bond we share.
We lie there, three bodies entwined until we’ve gained our strength to rise. In our home, with no external influence tugging against the cords that hold us, we are living our happy ever after right now. I know I won’t have this physical closeness with my children forever. I also know that as my boys pull further and further from my being, these cords will never break. They are stronger than ‘I dos’, forget me nots, or declarations of desire.
The love that runs between my boys and me is not based on allegiances to the same football team, nor a reciprocal appreciation of each other’s beauty, and it’s certainly not based on years of sticking together because that’s what people do.
This love is the love of belonging. It is the love of home. And this valentine’s day I will be basking in its glory, as will many of the other 2.9 million single parents across the UK.
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