Becoming a better ROLE MODEL
When mum doesn’t always know best
The cravings were back with a vengeance
Watching the second line show up on the pregnancy test, I couldn’t believe my eyes.
‘It’s positive,’ I whispered to myself.
At 24, I hadn’t planned to become a mum quite so soon.
But I always knew I wanted to have children.
So after the initial shock wore off, my then-partner and I were delighted.
I knew my lifestyle had to change overnight.
No more nights out in the pub.
And definitely no more smoking fags.
I was 15 when I started. By the time I was in my early twenties, I smoked between 10 and 15 cigarettes a day.
Aware of the health risks, I told myself I’d quit one day.
I’d just never found a reason to. Until now… Determined to give my baby the best start possible, I quit smoking ciggies there and then, throwing my last packet of fags in the bin.
‘You’re doing so well,’ my friend Jane told me after
I’d made it three months without cigarettes.
‘I’ve got no choice!’ I laughed, cradling my growing tummy.
With my baby kicking away inside me, smoking simply wasn’t an option.
And when Will was born in
June 2002, I knew I’d made the right decision. He was worth quitting for. Busy with a newborn, I didn’t have time to think about smoking cigarettes.
And when Will was three years old, I found out I was pregnant again.
My second son was born in February 2006.
So busy with motherhood, smoking felt like something the old me did.
But when my boys got a bit older, I started meeting up with my friends in the pub on a Friday.
After being at home with the kids all week, weekends were my chance to unwind.
With all my mates smoking, it wasn’t long before I found myself sparking up again.
‘I’ll just have one with my drink,’ I said to Jane as she passed me a fag.
Famous last words…
Soon, I was buying packs of 10 cigarettes before I went out.
I never smoked them all, and by the end of the night I’d have a fair few left over.
Eager not to set a bad example, I hid my smoking from the kids.
I’d only smoke if I was out with friends, or have a sneaky one in the car on the way home from work.
So, I told myself I wasn’t really addicted.
I’d quit once before, and thought I’d be able to easily quit again.
Then, in May 2016, I went away on a girlie holiday for Jane’s 40th.
As soon as the plane touched down in Porto, we rushed to the nearest shop to stock up on cheap cigarettes to get us through the weekend.
With the warm weather and busy bars, I was in holiday mode from the off!
I found myself smoking in the mid-afternoon, sparking up 10 fags a day.
‘I’ll quit when I get back,’ I vowed, as I flicked a lighter.
‘Yeah, that’s what we all say!’ Jane laughed.
We were all as bad as each other!
Back home, I carried on sparking up the fags.
Only now I was buying two packetsof cigarettes a week, and the smoking cravings I’d had in my early 20s were back with a vengeance.
By then my boys were 14 and 10, so I had to be even more careful not to get caught.
I’d puff away in the car in the morning after the school run, and again on my lunch break.
Smoking had me back in its grip.
Then, after a busy day at work, I was on the way to pick Will up from school.
Desperate for a cheeky cig beforehand, I quickly devoured one in the car before I set off.
Eager to cover my tracks, I rolled down the windows.
But as soon as Will got in, he had me sussed.
‘It stinks,’ he winced. Embarrassed, I kept quiet. There was no point in lying.
Will was smart enough to know the truth. Knowing he had his suspicions, I thought about quitting.
And just weeks later, I got the shock I needed. A text flashed up on my phone from
Will’s school.
Will will be kept in detention on Thursday for smoking, it read.
I was gutted.
I knew most teenagers experimented with smoking, but I really thought Will wouldn’t make the same mistake I did.
Sadly, I’d split from the boys’ dad, and more than ever wanted to be a great role model.
That night, as I spoke to Will, I felt like a hypocrite.
‘I’m going to quit,’ I told him. ‘And I want you to, as well.’
I’d quit for Will before. Now I was determined to do it again.
So, in July 2018, I smoked my last fag.
I’m not going to pretend it was easy.
For weeks afterwards it was all I could think about.
On nights out I could feel my fingers twitching, just wanting to hold something.
But I knew I had to be a good role model for my boys. It worked.
Will gave up too, and I couldn’t have been happier.
‘I’m proud of you,’ Will told me after I’d managed six months as a non-smoker.
‘I’m proud of us,’ I said, hugging him.
As a single mum, I realise how important quitting was.
Not only is it up to me to set a good example, I want to be as healthy as possible for my boys. They are everything to me.
Quitting was more than worth it.