There are babies ALL OVER THE PLACE right now. I can’t stop seeing babies and pushchairs and little booties and onesies and stuff around everywhere. My mum in law just had her baby this morning and a co-worker’s wife is due to have her baby at the end of the week. Loads of friends are having babies too and the ones who aren’t having babies are trying to have them. I just can’t get away from it!
I’ve never really felt a maternal instinct and I’ve never really wanted to have kids. I’ve been notorious in the past for telling boyfriends, “don’t get any ideas, I’m not the mothering type!” That doesn’t mean I don’t like kids; I enjoy kids and babies. I like playing with them, making silly faces, telling stories, feeding them and yes, even changing the less smelly nappies. But I like to hand them back to their parents when I’ve had my fill or when they start screaming for no obvious reason.
And then, about a month or two ago, it felt like a lightswitch went off–I wanted a baby. I wanted to be a mum… no… I needed to be a mum. I honest to goodness woke up one day and wanted to have a baby. It was like someone had pushed a “go” button or turned the key in the ignition (good for N, eh?). Then, as they days went by, I remembered all of those times people told me “one day your clock will start ticking; One day you’re going to want a baby.” I hate admitting when other people are right because I honestly think I’m right 99.9999% of the time. But they were right. My clock has started ticking furiously and loudly.
God help me when the alarm goes off.