Motherhood can happen when you least expect it!

Before you ask NO, I'm not pregnant!

It's amazing how, as a mother, or parent, we can feel totally overwhelmed and in love with our children, especially on the days, when our babies, have opted to be .... well..... less than pleasant; I'm grateful that these days are not overly frequent - but as with adults, kids have bad days too.


Growing up I was the only child of my Mother and Father's creation, although I was 1 of 8 combined children, from my parents previous marriages, without getting too in depth about this, I was the love child, that created havoc for my siblings, and consequently am not overly popular with the more immature of the brood.

The age gap between eldest to youngest (that's me) is quite large, and my oldest brother and sister are both in their late 40s.

With that in mind, it's not really so impossible to see how I became an Aunty when I was only 3 years old.

I've grown up since then, with a lot of "little people" in my life, from nieces and nephews, a selected few foster infants that my mother looked after and coming into adulthood, my friends offspring.

I'm definitely no expert in children, but I've certainly had nearly my entire life time worth of experience, did I mention I have over a dozen nieces and nephews? (my youngest niece just turned 1 a few short weeks ago!)

My own adventure into motherhood was not entirely black and white, and something that at the tender age of 17 when I discovered was about to happen for me, my parents were not all to impressed with, and were very quick to vocalise their concerns.

MMM, I'm sure there are a few thoughts that have crossed your mind reading that, "pregnant at 17, I wouldn't be happy with you either"

Well, you see, I wasn't pregnant!

In October 1997, I met a boy....uh oh. Well okay, he was 21, so technically a man, but let's just say boy is an accurate description for that time.

We both became quite smitten, quite quickly, so much so that I moved city for him within the space of around 7 days of having first met him. Our connection was instant, if not fueled by surging youthful hormones.

My new found beau had a very vibrant recent past;I'm sure we have all been in relationships at some point, that have had a fuzzy grey area upon their end.

To try and summarise this as plainly as possible, the boy, my now husband (Blair) and his ex girlfriend, conceived a child post relationship. And for their own reasons chose not to reconcile to raise it together, unfortunately for the female counterpart in this equation, motherhood was not something she was willing/ready for at that time and through whatever decision making process she had, decided that adopting out the infant was the best choice she could make, for her and the baby.

As an idealistic, very optimistic teenager, I was quick to encourage and support the baby being raised, in the care of his biological father.

In my eyes, it didn't make sense for the child to be cast out to any old someone, and that Blair should man up and step up to the challenges of parenthood, after all, it was him that created him!

This morning, as I soak in the realities of being Mum to a teenager; I'm feeling somewhat nostalgic.

Thinking back to Timothy's first moments of life and the ensuing days at the hospital, where my beautiful new born son was lovingly accomodated by the hospital staff, sleeping alongside the prem babies, near the nurses station, not because he was premature, or sickly, but because for many reasons it was not suitable for him to be anywhere else. I was up at the crack of dawn every day and eagerly arrived, somewhat frosted by the onset of winter, and was kindly let into the ward to care for his every need, it was my home for a few days, at the time feeling a little jaded that I couldn't stay at his side overnight, but clearly, I didn't personally require medical attention myself, so these are the things we just have to live with (hard when "injustice" is amplified in your teens).

When Tim made his appearance in the world, it was love at first sight, I was given the honour to cut his cord, and given those all too precious, special first moments of bonding, embracing his tiny little body before any other and nourishing him with his first feed. (sorry breast feeders, all bottle feeding for this lad!)

I wanted to share this in my blog today, because Timothy is just such an amazing kid, although we are not linked genetically, our bond is no different from my bond with his brothers, our looks vary, but our mannerisms are the same, and despite never living South of Christchurch, he rolls his R's like his Southland born and raised Ma. Through Tim I have learned just how precious motherhood is, and that it doesn't always come in a tidy little conformist package.

Family is not always about a DNA marker, it can often be an emotion, loving and mutual respect connection.

I was so afraid for a long time that when Tim discovered his biological beginnings, that my life as his Mum would cease to exist, instead, his understanding and gratefulness when explained, was totally awing to me. He often thanks me for being his Mum and for choosing to be there with him, and that feeling is SO mutual.

It was Timothy's birthday yesterday, my little baby, now a young man, I am so proud of him and all that he is becoming, and even though we will never be linked by blood, we are linked in heart, in respect and mutual adoration for one another.

So to Tim, thank you for being my son and choosing to walk this life time with me.

Thank you for teaching me many lessons about family, and unconditional love.

Here's to the rest our lifetimes as Mother and Son!

To those of you who have read this today, I hope you take a little insight away with you, not just about my own makings as a parent, but in your own, and all that you have to be grateful for, and treasure.

Being a parent, or significant caregiver to a child is one of the most rewarding and fulfilling moments in your lifetime.

Enjoy xo