For me the word mum conjures up images of a certain kind of woman – usually mid 30s, usually employed(!) and super organised – the pinnacle of responsible living. “Young mums” on the other hand are in their teens, still in education and the ones being slated in the media (hey Daily Fail). Well, at least that was what I thought until I became pregnant myself.
With the average age of a first time mother being 28.5 I don’t fit into either of these stereotypes . At 21 it feels like information and advice meant for the latter don’t apply to me, and I can’t afford the resources available to older mums who are often in full time employment.
I found a couple of other mums of a similar age, but too seemed more together! They have husbands, partners or (at the very least) someone willing to coparent. For me that’s not the case. It was me, my bump and 3 months to prepare. The lack of relevant information meant that I didn’t have any realistic expectations. I heard how babies were hard work but believed they slept all day! So surely I’d still have time to do everything I wanted?
My parents had tried to tell me that maybe putting off uni for a year would be best, but who wants to listen to their parents? I knew best. Slowly post natal anxiety creeped in and I began to face the fact that neither Arth or I were ready to be spending a whole day apart in a city 200 miles away from home, for the sake of continuing with uni part time.
My hope had been to return back to Uni immediately, and to carry on like nothing had changed. I thought stopping Uni meant putting my life on hold and I wasn’t prepared to do that. A baby wouldn’t change anything. (I told myself) The thought of leaving Uni, even temporarily, felt like I was giving up and giving in to the young, uneducated mum stereotype.
Eventually I decided to suspend my studies and have opted to take a year to adjust to motherhood and get to know Arth. He’s a whole other person that I now have to understand and nurture. I was initially hesitant to “delay real life” any further by putting off graduation, but this is my real life now (turns out there’s a lot of lying down and lists). Babies aren’t newborns forever and he changes so much day to day that the idea of missing a single development is terrifying to me.
When I was researching ‘how to study with a newborn’ there wasn’t much to be found- a few outdated YouTube videos and a couple of articles. I suspect these were written by someone who’d never be in my position, most likely in their 50s (unless drinking in town halls is actually a huge part of Uni social life? Wow I’ve missed out there) I want to reach out and find others in my situation, even if this doesn’t provide new answers.
Even though becoming a mother at this stage of my life means that I have to make adjustments, I’m not bitter about any of it. The only time I feel anything other than genuine glee and excitement is when other people decide to pass judgment. There have been several occasions where strangers look past me and talk to my mother about Arthur as though she was his mother despite having been told otherwise. When I took my mother along with me to get his first vaccinations the doctor directed his questions and opinions at her rather than me even after she had pointed out that I was his mother, any decision fell to me.
Actions like these, intentional or not, make me feel discredited as a parent. As though I’m role-playing my part rather than having any genuine involvement. They make me second guess my part in his life and question the decisions I’m making.
Every new mother has unsolicited advice forced on her but I’m not being adviced, I’m being accused and doubted. I’ve been tutted in lifts and confronted in doctors offices. When I travelled alone with Arthur I was huffed at when struggling to hold him, carry my bags and collapse a buggy, I couldn’t help but notice that the woman just in front of me had been offered plenty of help despite the fact she was traveling with her partner as well as her child. In these situations it’s hard to look past your insecurities and accept that maybe that was just by chance, maybe people weren’t huffing at me because I was a young single mother but because we had to wait to board. Maybe the people who would usually offer to help just hadn’t noticed me. When you’re used to the questioning glances and hearing “you’ve ruined your career” (not that I had much of a chance anyway, I study fine art) it’s hard to accept that it may not be the first thing people think when they look at you. Honestly, I’m getting over the insecurity of it and I’ve began to enjoy boasting that yes, I am his mother and yes, I am young but at the end of the day I’ll be done with the school run by my mid thirties and could you really ask for better?
I am thrilled to be a parent and I’ve honestly never been happier. It would be wonderful if people could pause projecting their judgments on to me.
In an ideal world maybe I would’ve waited another 10 years to have children but then Arth wouldn’t be Arth, I wouldn’t be on this wild journey and I’d certainly have nothing to write about.