Being Mother

In a moment of clarity, rare these days, I felt a surge of overwhelming pride in myself for being a mother. Not to sound trite, but it is a privilege and an honour to wear the maternal crown. There is truly no more important role in this world, there is no job whose value outweighs the responsibility of a mother.

In the animal kingdom, a mother fox caught in a trap will chew off her own foot to get back to her kits. The gentlest of creatures will turn ferocious in the face of danger to protect her young. The love I feel towards my children would see me move mountains if that is what it took to prevent my babies from being harmed.

That is not to suggest, however, that giving birth to a child should  automatically grant the bearer the right to such an honourable title. I believe such respect needs to be earned.

Over Christmas, my mum was showing my sisters and me the handful of treasures that my nan had kept through her life. I'd seen them all before, but there was one tiny almost worthless brooch I'd never noticed. Just a thin piece of gold-plated metal shaped into the single word "mother" and adorned with a small, pink stone. The brooch was a gift nan had given to her mother. A gift of a title she had earned.

Why I hate childcare for babies

After returning from Japan and still not knowing what I wanted to do with my life, I took up some casual work in childcare.

I worked primarily at a couple of very good quality centres in an affluent suburb in Sydney. The staff were amazing, the centres were clean, activities well organised. They served nutritious AND delicious freshly cooked meals, which were really so good I promptly stopped bringing my own lunch so I could eat with the kids.  I imagine the waiting lists for these places went on for years. I can't imagine childcare centres could get any better.

And yet, working there with the babies and children under 2 years old I witnessed modern life's most miserable (supposed) progression: Babies of breastfeeding age separated from their, let's be honest, mums.

While the very best childcare centres endevour to provide a warm, engaging, happy and caring place for babies, it is simply not right. The most well-adjusted babies seemed disengaged with  their actual carers, not overly fussed who bottle fed them their formula or changed their nappy, not completely interested in the book being read to them or which toy to crawl after.

The least well-adjusted babies were simply broken hearted, crying constantly and needing the attention of a single carer with whom they trusted the most, a surrogate mum.

When I look at my 6 month old baby girl and see her eyes light up when I enter the room , her smile bursting from her face, her arms reaching out to me when she wakes. When i hear her delighted giggle. When I watch her fall asleep in my arms, deeply content after a big feed from my breasts... I feel ill at the mere thought of leaving her in the company of strangers.

I cannot imagine handing her over and walking away. She's just a baby and she couldn't possibly understand. It would break her heart for me to suddenly abandon her, and yet...

People do abandon their babies to childcare at such a young age. Even 2 year olds don't understand. I know this because I've seen it first hand, and I have children of my own now who I could never abandon.

Sometimes I honestly wonder why some people have children.

Disclaimer: we've lived on the borderline poverty line for years, so I know all about not being able to afford things. But I made a choice to have children and I'm going to see it through.