Don't call me MAMA.

I hate it in interviews and workshops when your asked to describe yourself in three words, who can really sum themselves up in three words? Well, it turns out I should have savoured the three-word days because now there’s only one word that describes me. Pregnant. You see, once your pregnant the rest of your identity is no longer relevant. Don’t worry yourself thinking about your career or your hobbies or your friends and go and buy a breast pump. And make sure you buy that breast pump with a smile on your face and kale in your smoothie.

It’s taken over 27 years to build me (in midwifes terms that’s 1,328 weeks) and I like me. I want my baby to be a new part of me, to see all the other parts of me and inherit some of those building blocks. But how can that happen if, according to the world around me, I have to give all that up and become someone who’s devoid of personality and complexity and simply wants to read magazines about different ways you can cook your own placenta. When I announced my pregnancy my targeted ads on social media all became pictures of ecstatic pregnant women asking me if I’d like to learn how to make my own clothes or speak to other ‘mamas’ in my area.

That word, ‘mama’ makes me do a little sick in my mouth and I’m past the morning sickness phase. It’s so… cute. I’m not a ‘mama’, I’m a mum or mam or fully rounded women who still laughs at dick jokes. Where are that ads for people up the duff that want to laugh at dicks? Is there a group of expectant mums I can join where we catch up on how much we miss pints and being able to take shits that don’t feel like they’re preparing us for labour? Maybe I’ll start one and you can only join it if you’ve never used the phrase ‘yummy mummy.’ Or maybe I’ll still socialise outside of pregnancy/ new mum groups. Maybe I’ll even do things I did before I was pregnant. Friends and family have already started assuming I will no longer want invites to the pub or a gigs. Like I could no longer enjoy music because I’ll be too busy listening to podcasts about breast feeding.

You do not have to remove your personality to fit a baby inside you. Keep inviting your pregnant friends out and telling them your crude jokes and laughing at theirs. And if you are pregnant, its OK if you don’t want to start crocheting and you still want to spend your Sundays at the pub. If that’s the case, join my new pregnancy group, ‘up the duff down the pub.’