Mother’s Day

My mum, my beautiful, intelligent, funny, witty, kind, caring, popular, strong, heroic mum… where do I start? She is quite possibly the love of my life, second only, since November, to my boy.


She sacrificed so much for us, she worked tirelessly to bring the three of us up to respect and care for others. She raised us single handed when my Dad had to go to Nigeria to work, she scrimped and saved to give us what we needed and often what we wanted. She was known not to eat herself so we had food on the table at a particularly bad time financially, working two jobs then coming home to do freelance typing just to pay the bills. She threw us the most amazing birthday parties, kids loved coming to our parties, in fact kids loved simply coming to our house for her cakes and warm welcome, never did she make them feel uncomfortable or in the way when I’m sure at times they were. I have the most wonderful memories of my childhood with her. She was strict but fair, we were never spoilt where objects were concerned and if we were naughty she never failed to punish us, the worst punishment of all was knowing she was disappointed or ashamed by our behaviour. However she loved us openly and never ever made us feel that we weren’t the centre of her world as she was ours.

As I grew into an adult our relationship changed from mother/daughter to best friends, we did pretty much everything together. We holidayed together, shopped together, worked together, often lived together, partied together, cried together and laughed together. Not a day went by when we didn’t talk except when I went travelling where phone calls were limited to, at the very least, once a week. She never turned us away, never made us feel that we couldn’t turn to her if we needed her and we so often did. She sacrificed so much for us and never asked for anything in return except that we be happy.

She’s the strongest woman I know, she’s a fighter, she tackled everything head on and with gusto. She wouldn’t let anything defeat her without a damn good fight.

In 2000 she was given the devastating news that she had cancer of the breast. Again she put on her bravest face and started the biggest battle of her life, never letting her humour or smile evade her, not in front of us anyway. She beat it after months of surgery, chemotherapy and radiotherapy. I have never been so totally in awe of someone in my life, her bravery and positivity were inspiring to more than just us. She wasn’t just our hero, she touched the lives of so many people and rarely lost touch with anyone she came into contact with and as such had hundreds of friends across the world. This was never more evident than at every birthday and Christmas where the sheer number of cards that she received spoke volumes.

Unfortunately the cancer returned years later, it had metastasised and again her battle began to prolong her life. She fought it so well until unfortunately her body couldn’t fight any longer. Our relationship changed again and as her health began to fail I became her carer. It was my turn to look after the woman that had looked after me for 35 years and yet still her foremost concern was us and how we were. She never ceased to amaze us and despite medical opinion she saw in her 70th birthday, filling her room at the hospice with well wishers to bursting, so much so I was literally pushed out the patio doors. Even here she made friends, the staff loved her, she filled the place with light and laughter even when she was obviously in so much pain. That year, 2008, I celebrated my last Mother’s Day with the woman that defined me. Unfortunately 9 days after her birthday, on April 13th, we lost our brave, beautiful, wonderful, precious mother. Our hearts broke and continue to break to this day. Not a day goes by where I don’t think of her and miss her. A hole was left which nothing can ever fill.

The last five years I have tried to hide from Mother’s Day. I avoid card shops and florists, I turn my head away from gift shop windows in the run up and tend to lock myself away on that Sunday so as not to see the happy faces of mothers and daughters out on walks or out for lunch. I’m jealous you see and bloody angry that this evil disease has robbed the world, us, of such a precious person when there are so many wicked people still roaming it. I hate Mother’s Day.

Now here I am in 2014 no longer avoiding it but being the centre of it because now it’s taken on a whole new meaning… It’s now my badge of honour. I am now that mother to be celebrated. I’m not sure how I’m going to cope with this change having harboured such ill feelings for the last 5 years. I hopefully got all my tears out of the way last night in the hope that there won’t be any sad ones shed today.

I find myself missing my mum even more since the birth of my beautiful Noah. She would have doted on him and I feel he’s been robbed of this beautiful woman, of a doting grandmother so although this is now ‘my’ day I still find myself struggling to see it that way, I feel like a fraud, in my mind it will always belong to the woman that brought me into the world, she was a real mother.

My mum was my first love. She was my life. She was my everything. Now it’s my turn to hopefully give Noah the same wonderful memories and to instill the same moral and social principles. She’s a tough act to follow but I hope I do her proud.

Happy Mother’s Day Mum, I love you.



Dear Bean

Dear Bean,

Let me introduce myself, I’m your mummy. You will only know me as a series of bodily sounds and functions at the moment but I’ve been your mummy for the last 38 weeks and 5 days and shall be for the rest of your life and mine. I will love you, comfort you, keep you safe, feed you, clothe you and no doubt embarrass the hell out of you in due course.

I’ve worried about you since the moment I saw those 2 little blue lines appear at 4am one morning in April 2013 and, if I’m honest, I’ve worried about you before that day. You see I knew deep down you were with me and was terrified to find out for sure in case you left me.

We’ve all been on an emotional rollercoaster these past 38 weeks you, I and your doting Daddy. You have been cherished and treasured since blue line day. You’ve been photographed more than most and already we could fill a photo album with your images and you’re not even with us yet.

I’ve panicked when I’ve felt you kick and hiccup, I’ve panicked more when you’ve had a lazy day and haven’t kicked and hiccuped as much as normal but all along you have been fine. For that I am eternally thankful, you’ve been so much wanted Bean you’ll never understand how much.

I’ve tried so hard to remain calm (I’m the calm one Bean, wait until you meet your father and you’ll see that), relaxed, fit and healthy so that you have a relaxed ride whilst you grow. It appears to be working, you’re certainly growing!! Your midwife and sonographers frequently remark on how big you’re going to be whilst looking at me with pity but I don’t care, I would suffer the most excruciating pain known to man if only it meant you being entrusted to us safe and healthy because I love you Bean.

I love you more than life itself and I know I’m going to miss you when you leave the comfort of my expectant tummy. Although I can’t wait to see your beautiful face and hold you in my arms I wonder about the feeling of loss I may suffer when I can’t feel your gentle undulations beneath my skin, your little feet digging into my ribs but I’m sure your smile, your laughs, your giggles and your smell will more than make up for it.

So here I am, your devoted mother. I’ve been thinking lately what sort of mother I’ll be. I hope I’m fair but I’m not going to be a push over either. Whenever I say no to you, and I will, it’s because I love you and want to protect you and keep you safe and bring you up to be respectful, thoughtful and kind. I look to my mother when I think of you, you’ll never meet her but I know she’ll love you and look on you from wherever she is. She was my best friend and I hope, beyond hope that I am going to be yours and then I’ll never think that I’ve failed.

I’m sure I’ll make mistakes, you see everybody does Bean, and it’s ok to do so, I just hope they don’t affect you too much. I’m sure we’ll embarrass you Bean, in fact were bound to. You see your parents are a little bit bonkers darling and I apologise for that now but we’re not going to change. You’ll laugh hysterically with us until you reach your teen years when you’ll probably hate us for being old and mad but you’ll return and hopefully you’ll look back on your childhood and be glad you went through it with us. We endeavour to try our hardest to make you happy, healthy and wise and prepare you well for this world we are responsible for bringing you into. It’s a scary old place but you’re not going to face it alone, you’ll always have us to show you the way, even if we’re not sure of the way ourselves.

We can’t wait to meet you our precious, precious boy, safe journey and we’ll be waiting for you with open arms and open hearts.