Image source:  KRISTY BURRELL – LXC 03 – www.facebook.com/kristyburrellphotography

I went into a public bathroom today.  It had two stalls, two adults and two children already there.

I am that person who leaves going to the bathroom until I am actually already spotting urine.  For me to arrive and find people there leaves me with a deeply troubling problem.

There was a mom trying to talk her toddler through using the toilet – she had an infant boy on her breast and she realised that the toilet needed some assistance.

She took her infant off her breast, looked at me and asked me to please hold her son as she needed to help her other son as this potty training thing was a big deal.

Totally on board.  Took baby, like this was a normal thing, and put him into a position against my chest and under my chin.

I got to hold this warm, fuzzy boy — you know how you just remember to hold a baby, even if you have not touched one in years.

I nestled him in my neck, and had him close against my chest and just patted him.

He smelt like warmth, happiness, milk and just all things good.  I probably had him for about two minutes, and he nestled in and it was pure joy.

It was almost as nice as snuggling puppies.

The mom came out of the bathroom and thanked me — she did not know me from Adam — and took her baby.

I understand how people end up with 5 or 8 kids.  A soothed baby smells like all things good, a baby nestling in to you makes you think of happiness and joy.  Your ovaries start to go — hey we have an old egg or two lying around, how about it?  Come on — remember the good times.

In a matter of moments I had charted out an entirely different life.

I had forgotten about the sleeplessness, the going it alone, the milk puke that lives on you, the inability to go and pee alone, the constant worry and frantic mania about just about everything.

I forgot about the post natal depression, the bleeding nipples, the pain of recovering from a third and very sore c-section.

The fact that my body felt like it had been hit by a truck and it took weeks for all that aching to go away.

The loneliness, the anger, the resentment.  The fact that it was so freaking hard — all of it.  Nothing went to plan.  I was operating on minimal sleep and my brain was fried.

In the public bathroom with that precious little boy all my brain did was secrete dopamine.  And happy thoughts.

Now whilst I am on the couch, with wine and without (well nearly without) a worry in the world, I am glad that sweet little boy went home with someone else.

Happy “no creamy shit nappies on a Friday night” Day!!!!