If you had told me, a while ago, that out of nowhere, I would suddenly find myself with all this time on my hands... all these commuter-free days, I would have felt very pleased indeed.
How many times have I sat at work, even before I was pregnant, and wished for long, lazy mornings in bed and nothing in the diary except tea dates and the cinema.
Now, of course, I have that freedom.
And all I feel is trapped.
Caught in this sticky web of sadness. Unable to find my way out, I know it will be a long time before I see the light or hear the birdsong in the distance.
At the centre of the maze is Bear. Near - and so very far at the same time. Impossible to reach.
I feel terrible when I have to remind myself that I am a Mummy. I. AM. A. MUMMY.
Because, if I am perfectly honest, it does not feel natural, giving myself this new status. How could it?
The very essence of all of our family status enhancements (grandparents, uncles, aunts) is not here. All we have are memories to hug and dreams to feed.
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