When I announced my pregnancy to my friend Sophie, her first response wasn’t breastfeeding advice, choice of birthing centres or whether to buy the all-wheel-drive Bugaboo or the one with optional deep-sea diving attachment.
Ever pragmatic, Sophie’s thoughts turned immediately to money.
“Make sure you negotiate yourself a good ‘mummy allowance’,” she advised.
“‘A mummy allowance!?”‘ I thought. “What the F… irstborn?”
The idea of asking my husband for an allowance while I took time out of the workforce to care for our daughter seemed too regressive, vulgar and infantile to even contemplate. I’m an adult; I wasn’t about to ask for pocket money.
Yes, my husband would be earning the money. But I would be caring for our child. The idea of me negotiating access to money because he earned it seemed as ridiculous as him negotiating access to our daughter because I gave birth to her.