Mother's Day

Tempus fugit...

It felt like just yesterday when I held Lucas in my arms for the first time, thinking it so surreal that he was finally here, screaming on my chest, taking in his first lungful of air after being incubated for 9 whole months. "My life is complete..." I thought. I never knew that my life would change forever, and that it would be the end of me, being just me.

17 months later, I looked into the mirror while combing my freshly showered hair before pinning it up into a bun without giving it time to dry, all the while running through a list of to-dos in my head before Lucas wakes up from his nap. I stopped to look at myself in the mirror, and I looked like a stranger. Gone are the days of skincare regime and silky locks. My outfits have been replaced by easy to throw on tops and unkempt hair that are dry at the ends. It took my breath away for a moment as I tried to remember what I looked like years ago, before Lucas, before I was a Mum, when I was just Sylvia.

She loved to shop, she loved weekend foodie hunts and late night movies and she loved jet-setting for long holidays twice yearly. I missed that girl, her carefree lifestyle and her voracious appetite for life. Now she drags herself out of bed at night to soothe her crying son, flops back to bed hoping to catch the remaining 2 hours of sleep uninterrupted by wails, then jolts awake at 6am to get ready for work. In the evening, she drags her sorry ass home at 7pm to pick up her little man from his grandma's before heading home to gobble down a really late dinner and hurry to put him to bed. Needless to say, weekends are for cleaning house and laundry along with picking up toys strewn all over the living room. I hardly have enough time for proper sleep and I feel perpetually guilty about neglecting my friendships. Sometimes I struggle with the fear that I'm a lousy parent for neglecting my son on weekdays because I have to work to survive.

But sometimes in the dead of the night, as I stroke the little man's back as he drifts off to sleep, I'm thankful that I have a beautiful son who makes it all worthwhile when he flashes his cheeky smile at me when he wakes, or his sticky hugs as he squeals with excitement when he sees me at the front door. The tedious work day melts away into absolute bliss when I feel his little arms around my neck.

I remind myself constantly that he is growing up everyday and that I should savour every possible moment with him while he still needs and wants me. Maybe one day I can learn to be both a Mummy and myself and to balance both our needs and wants, and to always remember the other man in my life who played a big part in giving me this beautiful baby boy.

For now, I'll take it a day at a time and treasure my time with him, and perhaps learn to love myself more along the way. To my dear son, I hope that you grow up knowing that I wasn't always your Mummy, that I was my own person as well. But I would do it over and over again despite it all.

Happy Mother's Day to all! :)