Self Checkout

A piece for the new Mums, uncertain and trying to adjust to your new status, from the rest of us Mums. We see you and you're doing great.

Walking the super market isles, our own kiddos in tow, we see you

A little bit stressed, quite distracted and very aware

Aware of whether the newest little addition to your life is okay

If they’re settled

Even more, if they’re getting ready to set off

We know the feeling

Getting out into the world after giving birth to the baby you’ve grown for the past nine months feels different

Not because the world is different, because you are

You’re not just you anymore

You’re not just anyone anymore

You’re a mum, your little ones entire world

The responsibility sits on your shoulders like an anvil and across your face like a mask

Everyone knows who you are now

The baby carrier or the pram have branded you with the mark of motherhood

Without asking you’ve been inducted into a sorority you never applied to

Yet, you’re part of it

A tired new mum, uncertain and aware

We see you moving through the isles

Looking carefully for what you came in for (if you manage to remember what that something actually was)

Bringing your little one out into a world that hasn’t met them yet

Hoping the experience will be easy and uneventful

Hoping a crying fit isn’t pending and you’ll make it through the check out without incident

You make your way towards the self checkout

Relieved

Because the outing is all but a success

The only thing between you and winning the day is scanning a few items

You wait for a self checkout, quietly confident and proud of yourself

Then murphys law shows up

Loud and confident

Baby screams a scream that even dogs outside waiting for their owners can hear

Heads turn

Looking at you, looking at baby, looking at your version of motherhood

You bounce, you shush, you pat their bum with urgency

You cheeks flush

Your thoughts start to race

When everything wasn’t already enough, the next self checkout has freed up for you and your little noise machine

You try to scan items as quickly as possible

Baby in the crook of one arm

Swaying from side to side

You try to avoid eye contact with everyone passing by

Curious bystanders watching your version of motherhood be stress tested

Your bag seems to get in the way of every item you try to put in it

Everyones stares feel like they’re telling you that you should know how to console baby

Then, just when you think you might just join your bubba is a flood of tears, someone asks

They ask if they can help you

It’s one of us, another Mum

Maybe our own kids are with us

Maybe they’ve already flown the nest

All the same, it’s another Mum

We know the stress, the sleep deprivation, the frustration of feeling like you’re not doing it right

We know the feeling of everything becoming 20 times harder when baby starts to cry

Even completing a single thought becomes a skill you have to relearn

We offer to help

Not because you’re doing it wrong

Not because you’re failing

Because that’s exactly what we wished someone would have done for us when we were in your exact same position

Because you’re not the first to struggle through the checkout

You’re not the first to wrestle with your own emotions while your baby is losing theirs

You’re not even the first to struggle to leave the house because of the fear of leaving the safety of your own four walls

It’s anything but

It’s a rite of passage

But it feels like a hazing ritual to become part of this sorority you never applied to

Don’t worry, we hated this part too

So let another Mum, another woman or just a kind stranger help when you need it

Even if it’s just to hold the bag open while you stack your groceries inside

You’re not doing motherhood wrong

You’re just at one of the most difficult stages of it