My son turned 11 this week.  I can’t believe that he has been part of my life for 11 years (well, 11 years and 9 months!)  He is an awesome human being, so sensitive and caring – empathy.  And he has been taught to take responsibility for his own actions!

And this lovely young child came from me!  And I’m not maternal at all!

Friends say to me, “but you have to be maternal to be a mother.”  Really?  I beg to differ.

When I was younger, I always assumed that I would have lots of children.  I loved working with kids, but as I got older, and I had money, I became more selfish I guess.  I wanted children yes, but when I became pregnant, it was harder than I thought.  And when I gave birth to him – don’t get me started on his birth!  Lets just say, it did put me off having anymore!

Here I was, with a child that depended solely on me.  And that really scared me!  As the weeks progressed, I realised that I wasn’t mothering material, and I really struggled to understand this child that needed me.  I wanted to escape, and I wanted to harm this baby, but I didn’t.  It wasn’t until he was about two that I realised that I was suffering from Post Natal Depression.  I was too scared to say anything to anyone because I didn’t want them to take this child away from me.  I went to counselling though, and learned a lot, like when he plays up to me, it was because he knew it was safe to do that with me, because I loved him.  And I did.

But it probably wasn’t until he went to school that I really became attached to him, because unlike at playcentre, the teacher at school understood his desperate need to learn.

I am so lucky that my beautiful boy is so intelligent.  While I don’t have maternal instincts, I love him, and I have spent a lot of time with him, sharing things, talking to him, experiencing things together.  When times get tough, my boy became my secretary, and answered the phone, telling people I was unavailable to talk at that time.  He matured too early if you ask me.  I have a young man in a boy’s body.

But this week, he is eleven, he is fast heading towards the teenage years, and I am guessing that this is where the whole friendship thing we have going will work for us, rather than against us, because never once have I felt rejected by him, or hated by him.  I’m not burying my head in the sand or anything like that, he will have the hormones racing around his body and making him an obnoxious shit, but I will still love him, no matter what.  That is unconditional love.

Unconditional Love (Part 1)

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