As the mum of four beautiful kids, I'm scared to admit these thoughts to people

This is probably not something I should say out loud too often, but if my doing so helps to assuage the fears or concerns of any fellow mums, then it will have been worth it.

Sometimes I don't want to be a mum.

There, I said it.

As the mother of four healthy, happy children, I should be counting my blessings on a daily basis and believe me, I do, but sometimes I long for the my heady pre-motherhood days.

While my children have brought me untold joy over the past fifteen years, there are times when I find myself gazing at my reflection in the mirror, desperately trying to summon an image of myself before I became a mum.

I try to cast my mind back and recall what it was like to spend more than ten minutes to myself without being asked to referee an argument, produce a smile or fix a problem.

With so many women out there struggling to conceive, I can only imagine how difficult this may be to understand, but I can't help the thoughts that come unannounced into my mind sometimes.

When I'm grocery shopping and suddenly recall a time I could idly browse the aisles without chasing after a toddler or dealing with a teenage strop, I find myself almost dizzy with longing.

When I've been up all night with a sick stomach and know I have to tend to breakfast, homework journals and morning tantrums, I long for the days I could crawl back to bed and worry only about myself.

When I've bent over backwards for family members only to have my efforts dismissed, I long for the days where even the smallest effort was awarded with gratitude.

While I would never have considered myself selfish before having children, becoming a mum really reminds you just how selfless you have to be.

And while putting your children before yourself or your partner instantly becomes second nature, that doesn't mean there aren't momenhts in your life where you find yourself reflecting on days gone by.

Days when a bath-time meant an uninterrupted hour in the tub with your newest bubble bath, not a tantrum-inducing Sunday night ritual.

Days when doing your make-up meant assessing your pores, applying with precision and perfecting until happy, not a three-second slick of crumbly lipstick across your mouth before meeting your child's teacher.

Days when being sick meant 24 hours nursing yourself back to health while wallowing in self-pity, not a 20-second assessment of your medicine cupboard before telling yourself to pull yourself together.

My children are my world and they have undoubedly made me a better person, but to spend just one day worrying only about myself, my wellbeing and my feelings would be luxury.

Am I alone here?