This week’s Dispatches from New Motherhood treat is a heartfelt and honest account of a new mum’s relationship with her identity. In GIFTS FOR MUMMY, Hannah Morrison reflects on the transformative effects of motherhood.
‘I wanted to write about losing my sense of identity after I had my son,’ Hannah says. ‘I was torn between holding on to someone that I no longer was and stepping in to this new, already written, role of Mother. Having my son turned our world upside down and, in the process, helped me to become a better version of me.’
Hannah goes on to say ‘I used to love a good party, but these days, give me a good book, some peace and quiet and a cup of tea over a night out any day! There is no better feeling, than my son at 2.5 years old, clambering on to my lap for a cuddle and saying “I love you Mummy”. And actually, it turns out I’m quite good at this whole motherhood thing after all - I needn’t have worried.’
Enjoy Hannah’s sparkling piece here.
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Gifts for Mummy
Hannah Morrison
One Mummy card
One bottle of perfume
One Desperado
One Lambert & Butler cigarette
First, I opened the card addressed to Mummy. There it was in writing and official, I was now your Mummy. I needed to be someone different now, and I wasn’t sure if I could. As I read the carefully thought out words from Daddy inside the card, I wept. A powerful wave of love I had never felt for him before sweeping over me.
The perfume was appropriately named Ghost. And there I was, staggering around the house, pale and confused, rocking you in my arms and feeling like a ghost of myself. Days and nights rolled into one. I wore the perfume every day; it was my attempt to cling onto something. I sprayed it at the back of my neck. I couldn’t spray it at the front like I used to. This was your space now, where you spent most of your time, slouched on the nook of my chest, your delicate skin on mine, breathing me in. After a while, I could no longer tell the difference between the perfume's fragrance and the sweet scent of you.
The Desperado chilled patiently in the fridge for almost a month. And all the while I wondered how long we would be stuck in this limbo between me giving birth to you and real life starting again. 'It will get easier,' Nanny told us whilst you squirmed at my breast. Eventually, when we could hold everyone off no longer, we threw a BBQ so that people could meet you and I finally felt comfortable enough to have a drink. That first zesty sip tasted of freedom and adventure and it took me back to a time, before you came along, that would have easily developed into an impromptu night out. But one look at you asleep in your chair and I was reminded that you depend on me entirely.
With a beer in my hand and you still fast asleep, I decided I’d smoke the cigarette. I realised that the days of a guilt-free cigarette were gone. Smoking it was a weirdly strict affair. I made sure all my hair was pulled back tight and I put on an old cardigan to cover my skin. I didn’t really enjoy it and afterwards I washed my hands obsessively and longed for you to wake up, so I could cuddle you again.
Eventually, I came to terms with the idea that, actually, I was never going to be the old me again; aspects of her would still pop up from time to time and I’d welcome her like an old friend: on the odd night out after a few cocktails, or when sinking into a rare candlelit bath – but all the while I’d think of you. And although I loved the old me (the fun, spontaneous, carefree me) it just so happens that I love the new me – your mummy – even more.
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Gifts for Mummy by Hannah Morrison appears in the Mothership Writers anthology Dispatches from New Motherhood. All 50 pieces from the book will be published here over the year to come, creating an online library of what it really means – right here, right now – to be a new mother.