While becoming a mother brings on a tsunami of new emotions, becoming a mother when your own mother lives in another country (or kingdom in my case, I live in London, my mother lives in Scotland), adds a tornado to the mix. I remember walking around The Baby Show while heavily pregnant, trying to bury down the melancholy because it seemed that every other woman was there with her mother.

My mother was there for the birth of my son. Not in the room, but she came down for the week. Unfortunately I was in labour for five of those days and she barely got to see her grandson before she had to head back up to Scotland. He was born in April and she didn’t get to see him again until January and is only seeing him again now, in October. It is slim pickings indeed. It hurts as she misses the milestones. It hurts that she doesn’t see him on a regular basis, get to cuddle him and breathe him in. We FaceTime and that makes a difference, but as the months go by it just isn’t enough.

It has been hard being without my family a lot in my life, but it is so much worse after you have a child. My brother has childcare whenever he needs it, day or night. My mother saw my nephew grow and become the 5-year-old he is today. I missed seeing my nephew grow up. When I saw him after a 6-months or 12-months gap I would not recognise him at first. Such was the incredulousness of this little boy being the baby that was my nephew. My mother even missed my son’t birthday weekend. We both felt that.

I only saw my mother once when I was pregnant and by that time I was six months gone. I had an awful pregnancy and missed having my family around me. I wish I could take my mother to the park with my son, have lunch with her, see him cuddle her and take her by the hand. It has been almost ten years since I moved to London. I always knew the move was permanent, but I was so young getting married and having children didn’t enter my head. Raising your own family so far away from your own can feel like a stake to the heart. I miss my family everyday, but more than that; I miss them seeing my son grow up. I guess the upside is that when we are with them we make the most of it. It is all the sweeter for being rare. It is a small consolation.