The Contingency Plan

It's the night before their departure and I'm sitting on the couch feeling heavy. After a rocky start, we now get along and feel like family. I'm going to miss them, especially Lucas' Mum.

They went to bed around an hour ago and Lucas and I sat here thinking how quiet it was. The three weeks have flown by so fast.

I'll be starting a new routine tomorrow and I hope Hugo settles into it easily. Having the in-laws stay was great, but in particular I was out with the baby nearly every day so my confidence has sky-rocketed and I no longer need a stuffed baby bag before venturing out.

For the last five days I've also been feeding him at specific times to establish a routine and it's certainly paid off. Hugo now sleeps throughout the night - from around 10.30pm - 6am. It's absolute bliss. He's far more alert and playful during the day and has become a little smiling chatterbox. Seeing a smile transform his chubby little face when he sees me and sharing baby conversations are my new addictions. I adore him. My life is so enriched.

Although my routine seems to be working, I declined another job offer a few days ago. It was with a budding record company who found me through a friend. I know she meant well, but this friend thought I'd have lots of extra time because I'm 'just a mum right now'.

Just a mum.

I'm amazed at how many working women I know treat having a baby like like a side project to work on before happily returning to the workplace.

Don't get me wrong, I love hard work and value my career, but am annoyed at how people underestimate the role and importance of motherhood and overestimate workplace satisfaction. It's like being traditional is suddenly radical. I no longer value my career above all and this is shocking.

When I was pregnant, many of my colleagues felt sorry for me. They didn't say it, but I could sense it in their tone and could hear it in the whisper of the walls. Apparently my life was over. I'd have to leave work. God, I'd have to deal with with a baby!

"Goodbye and good luck Kazumi," said a company director on my last day.

"And have fun if," she suddenly stopped in mid-sentence.

I smiled.

"'If I can' is what you want to say isn't it?" I asked.

"Yes, but I realised it wasn't appropriate," she said blushing.

"I wouldn't worry," I replied.

"I'm really looking forward to it."

In a company of thirty women, four out of our five company directors are childless. These are women in their late thirties and forties who are successful and amazing professionals during working hours, but I've had conversations with them when they're drunk and lonely, when they've realised they've passed the chance to have children, and when work has become their everything and I just don't want it.

Work just isn't worth it.

And this is why I refuse to ever say that I'm 'just' a mum. My hope is now to raise someone loved and wonderful.