I Never Wanted To Be A Mom. Trust Me, It’s OK If You’re Scared Sh*tless To Have A Baby.


It’s completely fine to feel horrified when you’re pregnant. It’s OK if you’ve just peed on a stick and can’t believe what the f*ck you’re seeing.


Or if you’re at the gynecologist, wondering which part of that blurry ultrasound picture is your baby and which part are your intestines. Or even if you’re at the hospital after 22 hours of contractions, but would rather quit this whole giving birth thing right now because it hurts like hell.

Wherever you are in pregnancy, it’s absolutely fine to feel angry, sad, confused and unable to rock this whole motherhood thing.

Confession: I felt like that for almost nine months.

Since my partner has been diagnosed with sperm that’s so slow, it’s basically comatose, I never even considered the possibility of reproducing.

When I first saw those two lines appear on the pregnancy test, I started crying. Just to clarify: I wasn’t crying from happiness.

My first thought was ‘Shall I get an abortion?’. That might sound horrible, but the truth was, I never wanted children.

To be honest I hated the little brats.

They’re noisy, messy, noisy, annoying and did I already mention they’re very noisy? Yes,

I’m that evil person who sticks her fingers in her ears and sighs when one of those little sh*ts throws a tantrum in the supermarket.

I’m not what anyone would consider responsible parent material. In fact all the plants I’ve ever owned died within a week – even the cacti.

That’s why most of my pregnancy I felt utterly angry, sad and confused.

I absolutely hated being pregnant for the first four months. Which is, probably not-coincidentally, also how long my morning sickness lasted.

When the vomiting finally stopped, I started horse riding again and was immediately called an irresponsible parent (quite a feat seeing as I hadn’t even given birth yet).

Apparently it’s OK to get involved in a woman’s life if she’s pregnant.

People came up to me asking if we’d get rid of our dog because it’s a stray that growls at any kid below the age of 12. I told them if doggy and baby wouldn’t get on, I’d rather dump the baby.

Other pregnant women wanted to discuss baby names, but I felt more like discussing whether Jason Momoa is hotter in Game of Thrones or in Aquaman.

They’d lovingly gaze in the distance, stroke their pregnant bellies and say how they adored it when they felt their baby move inside them – I felt left out because I didn’t feel a thing. Not one single kick until I was nearly six months in, let alone any kind of connection with my unborn child.

For a long time, I thought that I just wasn’t mummy material.

I mean: I rather read Lee Child’s Jack Reacher series than Eric Carle’s The Very Hungry Caterpillar and prefer watching any movie in which Ryan Gosling takes his shirt off to watching Sesame Street.

You know those people who cook ecological organic home-grown food?

They’ll be the mums with homemade birthday cakes and colour-coded Bento boxed dinners in the shapes of Disney characters.

Well, let’s just say my culinary highlight is when I add ketchup to my frozen pizza before sticking it into the oven.

I might have been the least likely woman on the planet to become a mum and still I loved my daughter from the moment her little fingers curled around mine.

Instead of angry and sad, I felt like the happiest person in the world when holding my baby for the first time.

She regularly smiles back at me and covers me in wet sloppy kisses, which must mean I totally rock this motherhood thing.

Well, perhaps apart from that time last summer when I heard her gagging and discovered she was actually eating her own poo… (To my defence: she was fully fed and I only left her naked in her crib for five minutes).

Plus that time I nearly dropped her when stumbling over the dog.

And nowadays as a toddler she throws herself on the floor on a daily basis, slamming her head into the kitchen tiles when she wants something which isn’t allowed, which is A) really annoying and B) probably not so good for her head.

But all in all, I’d like to think I turned out pretty OK as a mum. And so will you.

Even if you’re scared shitless now, you’ll be absolutely fine, I promise.

Just remember to never leave a naked baby alone because they will eat their own shit which is really gross.


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