#EndMommyWars

So, while I was browsing facebook today, I came across this wee video and I just felt that it was too important not to share! Please have a look … 🙂

Believe it or not, I actually relate to almost all of these women to an extent. Although it hasn’t affected me too much, it’s hard not to feel judged sometimes (even if the one judging you is actually yourself). I feel judged all the time for not breastfeeding. I feel judged for not having a ring on my finger. I feel judged for not being able to go to work and help my partner out with financial needs because I don’t live near family and I can’t afford childcare. But do you know what? It really doesn’t matter at the end of the day. All that matters is that my baby is happy and smiling and healthy – so if that’s the case, I’m obviously doing something right, right? 🙂

At the end of the day, we’re all moms/mums/mummys/mamas/mammys/mothers or whatever you prefer to be known as. Let’s give each other a break and be open to all the mothering methods available to us (because let’s face it, motherhood is hard enough!). You and you alone know your own baby far better than anyone else – don’t let anyone take that away from you.
#EndMommyWars ❤

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Thank you all for having a wee look at todays blog post! I know it’s very short, but I really hope it still has an impact on you all, and hope that it helps all you mothers out there know and realise that you aren’t alone and that your mothering methods are the best methods for your baby. You’re all doing a great job, so let’s keep going and stay positive! 🙂

Also, thanks to Similac for creating such an amazing and honest video – It shares a message that well and truly needs shared! (For more information, please visit http://similac.com/sisterhood-of-motherhood)

‘mumm-E-motions’

Becoming a mother is always a happy and exciting time to an extent – despite whatever the circumstances may be. Unfortunately though, motherhood isn’t all about dressing up your baby in cute clothes like a wee doll or having a bouncing bubbly smiley baby as an accessory. Motherhood comes along with a great deal of stress – ups and downs and roller-coaster rides like you wouldn’t believe (and don’t forget the everlasting battle with hormones!). In recent days, I’ve been feeling pretty crap for lack of a better word, and right now, the best thing I can do for myself is write about it. (I apologize if this post seems like a bit of a downer – but it does have a point, and an important one at that.)

Anyone who knows me at all knows that I HATE crying in public – however, on this occasion, I feel like I need to share this image.

This is an unedited photo of me after pretty much crying all night and a good portion of this morning – It’s not supposed to be flattering. It’s not supposed to be beautiful. It’s just supposed to be real. (Also, yes, I am literally just wearing a bra, but that is just how much I cared about putting on clothes at that moment in time.) Ironically, the camera makes me look BETTER than I actually did in real life.

One big weakness I have is that I truly struggle asking for help when I really need it. I don’t know why that is – maybe it’s because I don’t want to seem like a burden. Maybe it’s because I feel like my problem is genuinely stupid or idiotic and I don’t want to make a fool of myself. Maybe it’s because I don’t want people thinking I’m lazy for not being able to figure out or carry out the solution myself. Whatever the reason, problems become the root of negative emotions – and these emotions build up inside you. Unless you let these emotions out, like a game of Tetris, there are only so many blocks you can fit onto the screen before you ‘lose the game’.

It’s funny, because when I do get asked ‘what’s wrong’ (or I’m given the opportunity to release myself from my own burdens) – I never know how to answer. Sometimes I literally feel nothing but the need to cry into a pillow for three days. Other times there are so many things wrong that I can’t pinpoint what is actually wrong and the only way I can cope with it is by just crying it out. This in turn becomes a frustration to the other people around you who want to comfort you, who want to help you – and my partner understands this better than anyone.

I don’t mean to make it so hard though – I don’t mean to be so awkward. If I could, I’d probably write a book about what all my problems were and give it to him to read. Help him understand me better. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t feel like I can talk to my partner or that I don’t trust him enough with my problems – it’s just that sometimes, I physically can’t breathe so that I can talk. This sounds so ridiculous to say, but sometimes my heart just hurts so much it literally feels like it needs to burst – and yet I struggle to relieve it. Emotions are exhausting – and looking after a baby in the meantime pretty much almost kills you due to the fatigue. (Don’t get me wrong though, nothing gives me more pleasure than taking care of baby Phoenix – ironically, he is the one thing I stress about the least!)

Now here’s the thing – I don’t claim to have post-natal depression. There are a lot of days when I can’t stop smiling and I’m genuinely happy. I know there are mothers out there who have it way worse than I do. I know there are mothers that genuinely suffer from this awful fate and it is NOT a nice experience. (For more information on pre/postnatal depression, please visit http://www.pandasfoundation.org.uk 🙂 )

I’m also not asking for sympathy or pity – I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.

This is just a wee post to say – it’s okay. It’s okay to feel emotions, it’s okay to feel sad or depressed sometimes. It’s okay to cry and unleash your innermost thoughts – even if talking is hard sometimes. It’s okay to need a break away – it’s okay to give yourself time to breathe. Motherhood was never meant to be easy – but nothing worthwhile is after all.

Here’s a cute baby picture to make you smile and brighten your day … even if it’s just a little! 🙂 ❤

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Thank you all for reading this blog post! I apologize for the wait. I hoped to make this a weekly thing, however due to no proper wifi/internet at home and a bit of a writer’s block I haven’t been able to achieve this just yet – but I’ll be posting as much as I can when I can, so please stay tuned for the next installment! ^u^

My ‘Beautiful Surprise’

Welcome to my blog! Long story short, I was inspired to start this blog due to my circumstances and experiences as a new-ish mother. I hope that what I write will be somewhat useful to new mummies, more experienced mummies, expectant mummies or anyone that someday hopes to be a mummy someday (married or unmarried)! 🙂

It’s always hard to know how to start these things. You need something witty, something that catches your eye or else people literally don’t give a crap … but I suppose for the purpose of this blog, the best way to start is at the very beginning. Firstly, let me introduce myself. My name is Cathy Ross and I am 22 years old. I currently live in Belfast with my ‘almost’ 10 week old son, Phoenix Ross McElroy (Ross being his middle name, McElroy as his surname) and his father, Luke. We’re pretty much a typical family – he goes out to work at his job (aka, the breadwinner) and I’m the stay-at-home mother (because childcare is so flipping expensive! … but I also love being a mother also!). As parents, we try our best to be the best mother and father we can be for our son in every way (financially, emotionally and physically). There is one thing that makes us an ‘unconventional family’ in the eyes of society today however … it is the simple fact that Luke and I aren’t legally ‘husband and wife’.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to hint that I want a ring or put any pressure on marriage whatsoever. That isn’t my intention. I just want to share my experience as a mother trying to live under that prejudice and judgement. Apparently because I’m an ‘unmarried mother’, the birth of our beautiful child is ‘so wrong’.

These are the photos of my son when he was just a day old in the hospital (unfortunately the pink hospital blankets caused some confusion of his gender! :P)

I remember when I first found out I was pregnant. Well, I didn’t just ‘find out’. For me, it was a slow progression of coming to terms with the fact that I was indeed having a baby. It was actually my sister who initially pointed out the possibility to me (as she was the only one who knew I had sexual intercourse). In a sense, she knew way before I did. It only took one question for me to realize that something wasn’t quite normal – I had missed my period.

I remember waiting and waiting, praying it would eventually arrive and that my body was just somewhat out of sorts. But who was I kidding? My monthly cycle was always regular, so why change now? That didn’t stop me living in hope though. I know ‘hope’ is an awful word to use in terms of the chance of a non existing pregnancy, but that’s how I felt at the time. Thinking back now, it’s actually heartbreaking to think that I was petrified of being pregnant – not because I was scared of the prospect of being a mother or giving birth to a baby, but because I was afraid of my upcoming reputation.

I am the daughter of a Presbyterian minister (retired, but still a minister non-the-less). As a daughter of a minister (or any relation for that matter), you have a reputation to uphold – the reputation of being ‘a good girl’ or a ‘Christian’ girl if you will. This means (for example) ‘no drinking alcohol’, ‘no smoking’ and most certainly ‘no sex before marriage’. I was already ‘rebelling’ so to speak by dating a man that was from a Catholic background (God forbid, right??), but to then find out you’re carrying his baby? That’s just the icing on the cake for all the bigoted sectarians out there! (and let me tell you, the ‘Christian community’ is full of them!)

Don’t get me wrong, my father is a wonderful man. He has supported me through thick and thin (not to mention financially!) and he adores Phoenix … but the fact is, that as long as his title of ‘Minister of religion’ remains with him – this will always influence how we act and how we try to uphold our reputations, whether we are being true to ourselves or not. Is it so bad that I just want to escape from constantly being put in that box?

There is probably nothing worse for a minister than to find out his daughter is with child out of wedlock. (I sometimes felt like getting an STD would have been better received than getting pregnant … at least it’s not AS obvious you had sex!) To his credit though, he took the news a LOT better than I anticipated. He even made a joke how the scan picture was ‘the spitting image of him’! However, not everyone was so forgiving or nice about what they had to say about the situation. I remember being told from a third party that one of the responses (from another family member) to my pregnancy was ‘How could I do this to my father?’ What was it that I did to my father exactly? It wasn’t like I intentionally went out of my way to end up having a baby to spite him. I just made love with a man I had fallen in love with – is that really so bad? Would you prefer it if my partner was say, beating me up? abusing me? neglecting me? cheating on me? The only part my father was playing was that he was going to become a grandfather to a beautiful baby boy. I didn’t do what I did to oppose my father, far from it. I did what I did for me and my partner alone. There was no mistake that this act came with consequences (with protection used may I add), but I wouldn’t say I regret it, not at all.

Just to reassure everyone who still thinks that I’m in the wrong, pregnancy definitely was punishment enough. Not the fact I was carrying a little life inside of me, but the other side-effects of that. The morning sickness, the nausea, the fainting spells – I even had to stop a charity event I was taking part in because the pain was just too much! I also felt tired, out of breath and heavy all the time – I wasn’t even permitted to perform/act in one of my final pieces at uni due to health and safety because I was too heavily pregnant at the time … and I studied Drama! In the aftermath of giving birth, I now have stretch marks galore and disgusting amounts of loose skin that would revolt you looking at it. My lower back still hurts from time to time and I’m still slightly overweight from it. Then there’s the labour itself! That seems like a lot of cons I know – but then all I have to do is look at my baby boys gorgeous smile every morning and remember that it was all worth it, for that is the sacrifice of a mother, right? After all is said and done, looking back now, the pain was only an illusion of punishment – a form of punishment I had created for myself.

The saddest part about having a child out of wedlock, is the fact that society will always refer to him as being a bastard child – ‘a mistake’. Never in a million years will I ever refer to this little guy as being a ‘mistake’. A mistake is getting an answer wrong in an exam, taking a wrong turn on the road or buying semi-skimmed milk when you were supposed to buy whole milk. No matter the circumstances, surely the miracle of a child can’t be simply known as a ‘mistake’. Surely if God TRULY didn’t want me to have a child at this point in my life, surely he would have prevented it by non-fertilization or the taboo of miscarriage and the likes. I truly believe my son was bore to me at this time for a reason … to me, he will always be my ‘beautiful little surprise’ … ❤

Thank you for taking the time to read this … I know it may seem like my thoughts are all over the place and that this post is a wee tad long winded, but hopefully the next few blog posts will actually be controlled and coherent! Please stay tuned for the next update in ‘Confessions of an Unmarried Mother’! ^u^