Being a Mum on the Other Side of the World

Moving to the other side of the world as a mum is a little different.

It's not just about figuring out where you're going to live, where the supermarket is or where you're going to get your coffee. You've got another person to think about too.

When we moved to Perth, my husband had a job to move to. He knew where he was going. There was something familiar waiting for him.

For me, it sometimes felt like figuring everything out was a full-time job in itself.

And then there was him.

I had to find him a school, help him settle in, work out what his new routine looked like, help him make friends and make sure he was okay. And all while I was trying to do exactly the same thing myself. No support network, just Mum and Dad navigating it the best they could.

I was figuring out Perth at the same time as trying to help him figure out his new life.

There were days when it felt like a lot.

You don't just arrive in a new country and suddenly feel settled. There are a million little things to work out, and when you're doing that for yourself and your child, it can feel like you're constantly trying to stay one step ahead.

I also made him a promise when we moved here.

I told him I'd take him home to the UK every year.

I've now done that twice.

Both times I've taken him on my own, which is probably a whole separate story for another day.

But that promise was important to me. Because as much as I wanted this new life for us, I didn't want him to feel like moving to Australia meant losing the life he'd had before.

And I think that's probably been one of the hardest parts of being a mum here.

Trying to create a new life for your child while knowing that so much of the life they knew is on the other side of the world.

His family is there.

His memories are there.

People who love him are there.

And yet...

I genuinely think life here feels better for him.

That sounds like a big statement, and I know how lucky we are to be able to say it.

But I see it in the everyday things.

He's outside all the time. He swims in the ocean. He's seen dolphins. He's kayaked alongside jellyfish. He has a pool in garden.

He's learnt so much independence. He's grown in confidence.

And somewhere along the way, he's even picked up an Australian accent.

I sometimes listen to him speak and think, when did that happen?

He's growing up with a completely different childhood to the one I had.

And I love that for him.

There are obviously things I wish were different.

I wish his family could see more of his everyday life. I wish grandparents could pop round. I wish people didn't have to rely on photos and FaceTime to see what he's been up to.

But I also look at the life he's living here and think about all the things he wouldn't have experienced if we'd stayed where we were.

The beach isn't a holiday.

The ocean isn't something we visit once a year.

Being outside is just part of his life.

And maybe that's the strange thing about being a mum and moving to the other side of the world. You're constantly aware of what they've lost and what they've gained.

And sometimes you don't know which one you're supposed to feel more strongly about.

I know moving here was hard.

I know there were days when I wondered how on earth I was supposed to figure it all out.

But then I watch him run into the ocean, or hear him talking in that accent, and I think...

Maybe we did alright.