If you’d have told me ten years ago I’d be a mummy at 30-years-old - I’d have laughed at you. It was around then that a few of my old school friends were announcing their engagements and pregnancies on Facebook (at twenty-ish years old). I remember thinking to myself they were too young and were rushing head-first into such huge decisions that could only end badly. I was convinced I knew better.

Off I went to university, and soon after started a career in Marketing and Operations. I moved from Chichester to Derby, to Oxford, to London and had various failed relationships under my belt before I began to feel the pull of home. By this time, those school friends of mine were on baby 2 or 3 and were happily married. To this day, I can only name a handful who are now divorced or seem unhappy.

So did I get it wrong? Did I miss out? Knowing how ‘complete’ I feel now as a mum, did I prioritise a career (to the detriment of my relationships) and unnecessarily postpone motherhood?

I’m not suggesting I should have tried to have children with previous boyfriends. Deep down, I knew even then that those relationships weren’t secure enough to have introduced a mini me into the mix. But then, I wouldn’t have been in these relationships in the first place if I’d have stayed in my hometown and not been so bloody-minded. I wouldn’t have even have had to have laid my ambitions to one side - I grew up in Reading where there were plenty of opportunities. I didn’t have to move from town to town.

Instead I wasted several years being unhappy, alone, and lost. Of course, I wouldn’t have told you this if you’d have asked me back then. I was bringing home lots of money, practically thrived on stress, and was quite ruthless in every sense of the word. No wonder my relationships broke down - I expected them to share my dreams, my ambition and my drive to succeed, but I didn’t know where to stop. No one could live up to my expectations so were driven away by my competitiveness.

After ten years away from home I was tired, mentally frazzled and ready for a big change.

When I moved back to Reading, it didn’t take long for Craig and I to find each other again. When we did, I surpised myself once again and we brought up the issue of children almost immediately. Now, less than 2 years into our relationship, we have Dexter, and are 100% committed to having another baby. Part of me just wishes I’d be in a position to write this very post five years ago.

Now I’m a stay at home mummy without all the pressures of a highly stressful workplace to distract me from what is important. I have a gorgeous baby boy and an amazing relationship with a funny, care-free, and hardworking man - but he’s not ambitious in any way. Sure we have dreams of moving to Australia, and being the best parents you’ve ever seen - but these ambitions don’t feature high-powered jobs. And I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.

Perhaps I wouldn’t be the person I am now without having gone through those ‘wasted’ years. Perhaps if I hadn’t had the experiences I have, I wouldn’t be so happy where I’ve ended up. Perhaps I’m being ridiculously self-indulgent and this post would have been better off trapped in a notebook somewhere. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

All I know is, that I was proved wrong. I was wrong to be dubious about my friends marrying their childhood sweethearts, and I was wrong about them missing out on university, dream jobs, and years of independence. I seriously thought I’d be a better prepared and better equipped mum than them and I was wrong. Nothing better prepares you or equips you for motherhood than simply being a mummy. It truly is my biggest regret not rushing home and finding Craig sooner.

The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new ~ Rajneesh