DOING IT ALL ON MY OWN
It’s easy to overlook their troubles when they’re portrayed as mere statistics, but every single mother deserves to have her story heard. KATHERINE SNG shares hers.
Mother. Mum. Mummy. Motherhood. Innocuous-sounding words that carry an immense amount of weight. I liken being a mother to being an all-day personal assistant who never gets a break; it’s like a job that doesn’t give me nancial remuneration, leave benets or even privacy, but it’s a permanent position that I cannot resign from once I’ve signed on the dotted line. And to add to it all, I’m doing it all on my own.
I found out I was four weeks pregnant six years ago, after my then-boyfriend and I had broken up. I was shocked and at a loss initially, but after much deliberation and my family’s vocal support that they’d help me every step of the way, I decided to embrace motherhood.
Many tried to discourage me, of course, and asked why I’d put myself on such a difficult path. They were concerned that I was ending my dating life prematurely, that I’d have difficulty nding a man who’d be willing to be a stepfather to my child. The pregnancy itself was like a roller-coaster ride: raging hormones, morning sickness and many trips to the gynaecologist alone. I struggled with uctuating emotions and fears of impending motherhood; I was afraid I wouldn’t be a good mother, that I wouldn’t be able to provide for my bubba.
But when I felt my unborn baby kicking in my belly, it gave me the strength to push on. Fortunately for me, I also had a strong, supportive family and great friends around me. I clung to the belief that I could do it alone.
I did have a moment of doubt when I was about ve months along, when the reality of single motherhood nally set in. My crippling fear was that I wouldn’t be a good mother, that I wouldn’t be able to support my son nancially or spend enough time with him. Those fears dissolved when he was born. He was such a bundle of joy that my maternity leave ew by; it was heartbreaking when I had to go back to work after just eight weeks, instead of the 16 that married mothers are entitled to.
Initially, I struggled; I had to juggle work and breastfeeding, and my mind was at home with my son every day. Watching my married co-worker, who delivered her child earlier than me, go on leave every other week because she didn’t fully utilise her maternity leave was painful. It just didn’t seem fair that unwed mothers aren’t entitled to the same amount of maternity leave and the same opportunities to spend time with their children.
I’ve heard many mothers complaining about feeling like a single mum when their husbands don’t pull their weight. Sure, there’s the physical inconvenience of having one less pair of hands – like when I have to chase my son around, or watch him from afar while ordering food at the food court – but the absence is especially profound when it comes to nancial matters. Whether I’m having dinner with my friends or family, or eyeing a pair of new shoes, I always have to be mindful of my expenditure.
Despite all the difficulties, I count myself truly blessed as I have a close-knit family who’s supportive of my decision, and of my child and me. But the reality is, many single mothers aren’t as lucky. This Mother’s Day, my only hope is for society to not fault us unwed mums for embracing what people usually deem an “unwanted” pregnancy; no woman would deliberately put herself in such a difficult situation. All we’re asking for is to not be left in the lurch. To be able to bear a child is a gift, and all mothers – whether married or single – need all the help they can get. It’s unfortunate that single mums get the least support, even though we’re the ones who need it most. After all, we’re all ultimately doing the same job here: to be the best mothers we can possibly be to our children. And shouldn’t that be the most important thing of all?