Benedicte and Anne

Name: Benedicte

Child: Anne, 14 months

Location: Manchester 

Expectations of Motherhood: Oddly enough I never really thought about what it would be like to have a baby in our lives. We prepared for Anne’s arrival, but I never really thought about what it would mean to have her around. I guess I had never really been a ‘baby’ person before Anne came along. I didn't know very many kids and didn't really know what they were about. Part of me also consciously resisted forming expectations.

Not having expectations was perhaps a strategy which meant I would be better able to cope with any situation. I just had this image of me as a little old woman visiting my grown-up kids and driving their partners crazy...I hope it will come true one day!

Reality of Motherhood: I completely underestimated the total upheaval involved in welcoming Anne into our lives. The first six months were tough. At first, everything revolves around baby - that’s something I had not anticipated. I liked looking after Anne, but found it hard to accept how much my life had changed; I resented how little freedom I had. 

When I began to let go of my ‘old’ life, it all became much nicer. I also started to feel more confident as a mum. By that point, I felt I knew Anne and I understood her a lot better, we shared a bond, we had a relationship.

Now, she is 14 months, it feels strange to recall these moments and write these sentences. We know each other so much better, we understand each other, we communicate and the love we share feels boundless.

Taking your child home for the first time: I remember the car journey. For some reason it felt like a huge deal to get Anne in her car seat and drive her back home. I was so focused on the car journey (!) - I don’t really remember what happened once we arrived!

The best/worst advice: The best advice was definitely ‘trust your instincts’; it helped me grow as a mum, made me more confident. 

‘Cut yourself some slack’ was another good one...though really hard to put in practice.

Worst advice: A book came highly recommended by one of our friends. It basically advised parents to abide by a strict routine from day 1. I still wonder how that’s even possible. Go with the flow is the best you can do!

The hardest parts of being a mother:
The tiredness is an obvious one, but I think it’s more the sense of commitment and responsibility that I sometimes find awesome (in all the different senses of the word!).



The best parts of being a mother: Getting to know that little person and building a relationship with her. But more than anything, the forceful experience of sheer love, this is truly special.

Has becoming a mother changed you? For me, being a parent is making a lifelong (and beyond) commitment to your child. This commitment is life changing and it impacts on my day-to-day activities, but also impacts on the long-term decisions I make. I like to think I am still the same person (albeit wiser), but a person with an unalienable commitment which informs my entire life.

Hopes for your family: 
First I hope we can all remain in good health. I also hope we are all able to pursue our individual goals whilst staying united.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Being a new mum can be a lonely experience (especially when your family is not around and your friends don’t have kids!) so try and find other expectant/new mums to share your experience with, you’ll make new friends and so will your child.  

Lucie and Charlie

Name: Lucie

Child: Charlie, 14 mths

Expectations of Motherhood: I guess I didn’t really have any expectations of motherhood – I had no experience of babies whatsoever and could count the number of times I had held a baby on the fingers of one hand (1,2,3…yep, that was it), I had never changed a nappy, never been left alone with a baby, never helped to dress or bath or feed a baby. I think it’s fair to say I was utterly clueless. I knew it would be hard work, intense and tiring (although I had no idea just how hard work, intense and tiring!) and I was terrified by the ‘foreverness’ of having a child. There is no changing your mind, no going back, no half measures – once they are here, they are going to be around for the rest of your life and that’s a frightening prospect. Of course, once they arrive, the thought that they might not be around for the rest of your life is even more terrifying. 

The Reality of Motherhood: My partner Dave had been broody for a while and, whilst I had never really considered myself particularly maternal, I always saw myself having children at some point in the future. We adopted a very casual approach of ‘when it happens, it happens’ and we were really lucky that it happened very quickly - although finding out three days before we were due to go to Glastonbury was less than ideal to say the least(!). I think I had the most sober festival experience in human history and was in bed by 9pm on the Saturday night (rock & roll, eh?) My friends all wondered what the hell was wrong with me but as it was such early days, I didn’t want to jinx it by telling people (call me superstitious…). Other than me and Dave, my sister and her boyfriend were the only people there who knew – my sis helped me with my ruse by buying me pints of lemonade and orange juice so it looked as though I was partaking in the Glasto mandatory standard, pear cider! Looking back, fainting spectacularly whilst dancing to Paul Simon may have been something of a give-away. 

While I was pregnant I constantly stroked my bump – that feeling of love and protection was immediate and intense. I felt so proud of my body and loved the private little world I was sharing with my growing baby. People seemed friendlier in general, more helpful and chatty, and I enjoyed the slight nod of solidarity that I exchanged with fellow mums-to-be on the street. But alongside this sense of wonder, excitement and love, I also felt I was operating on a level of heightened anxiety – the worry of something going wrong was, for me, far more exhausting than the physical changes of pregnancy. 

I was six days overdue when my contractions started and everything went according to plan, until a few hours later when I was rushed to hospital with a scary bleed. In the rush my birth plan went all to pot – I forgot my phone (containing my hypnobirthing mantras and music), and the bleed meant that the birthing pool was out of the question (somewhat to Dave’s relief, who was dreading having to use the “poo-catching net” of water-birth lore – yeah, thanks very much whoever told him about that). In the rush to leave the house we’d also forgotten the baby bag, so when Charlie was born he was swaddled, Baby Jesus-like, in hospital-issue blankets. It didn’t do me many favours in the Mother of the Year category when the midwife noticed I had remembered to bring THREE bags of my own clothes, either.

The labour itself was relatively straightforward and I got through on just gas and air. The pushing stage did seem to last a very long time, though – and I had an unfortunate experience with a less-than-tactful doctor (amongst myriad excellent hospital staff) who marched in, barked at my midwife to ‘JUST CUT HER!’, and marched out again. Talk about bad bedside manners. The best physical description I’ve heard of giving birth came from my best friend, now a mum of two, who when pressed to describe what it actually feels like (an impossible question, but you can’t help but ask) said: ‘It’s just like doing a massive poo.’ And, in a way, it is. 

Charlie was born at 2:15am – exactly 24 hours and 7 minutes after my first contraction. As he was plopped on my chest, I fell in love instantly - He was absolutely perfect other than a slightly pterodactyl-esque head shape (luckily a temporary result of the series of tight turns that marked his journey into the world). After about five minutes, he tilted his head up and latched himself on for his first feed - I had been worried about whether this would come naturally to me, but he knew exactly what to do! At least one of us did.... 

Dave left a few hours later to get some much needed sleep and I was left in the delivery suite with my son. My son. My son. My son. You have 9 months to prepare yourself, but it still feels most surreal when it actually happens. I tried to shower but was bleeding too much and left the bathroom looking much like the famous scene in Psycho. I remember trying to mop up the blood with loo roll whilst feeling like I was about to pass out before giving up and apologising profusely to the midwife. 

After a while we were taken up to the ward. I couldn’t sleep a wink that night. I was terrified that he would wake up and I wouldn’t have a clue what to do with him.

The next morning, breakfast was brought and I asked for tea and bran-flakes. The rather brusque midwife left these just out of reach on my tray table. As I’d had a stitch (not to mention a baby) mere hours earlier, it was painful to move and as I watched my tea go cold and my bran-flakes go soggy, I suddenly felt like bursting into tears. It was all too much. How could I do this? I felt hopelessly out of my depth already. At exactly that moment, Charlie started to stir and I suddenly realised I had a choice. I could either fall apart, or I could dig deep, realise that this tiny person was entirely dependent on me, and step up to the mark. I popped to the loo, brushed my teeth, had a wash and changed my clothes. I emerged a different woman and felt genuinely excited and ready for this new chapter in my life and all of the uncertainties, challenges and adventures that lay ahead.

Taking your child home for the first time: We were able to go home later that day, although lack of food and loss of blood meant I almost fainted carrying Charlie out of the main hospital entrance. I managed to hand him to Dave in the nick of time - it’s not a very good start to motherhood: dropping your baby before you have even left the hospital. It took 15 minutes to fit the car seat (note to future parents: put the car seat in before you have the baby) and then Dave drove home so carefully (waiting ten minutes before right turns, hands at ten-to-two on the wheel etc) I felt as though I was sitting in on his driving test. When we got home, our three cats came for a quick sniff of the new family member and our biggest cat Fletch went to sleep in the pushchair, which set the tone for much (ongoing) territory-marking. It took us three weeks to name Charlie – which shouldn’t have been surprising given that it once took me three months to name my cat and she ended up “picking” her own (well, it was the piece of paper her paw touched first) from the shortlist. His middle name was easy and had been picked pretty much as soon as we found out we were expecting a boy at the 20-week scan – Frank, after my Dad. 



Best Advice: Trust your body. It sounds a bit hippy, but it knows what it needs to do at every stage. Throughout my pregnancy and labour I was constantly amazed that my body could produce and provide everything that this baby needed to grow and develop into an actual mini human. It still blows my mind when I think about it. Ain’t nature great?!
Try to make time for yourself. Even if it’s just ten minutes a day and remember who you are. Becoming a Mum is an incredible experience. It does change your life but that doesn’t mean you have to lose yourself or your identity. 

NEVER GOOGLE YOUR CHILD’S SYMPTOMS. 

Worst Advice: “Trust your instincts.” Okay, so I know this one is controversial and I’m sure that tonnes of people have had this as their best advice. I agree it’s a wonderful idea in theory, but what do you do if, like me, your instincts are predisposed to hysteria?! When every cough is the start of tuberculosis, every rash is the onset of meningitis, every bump to the head is a serious concussion waiting to set in... I know, I know, these are my neuroses and I have to (and am trying to) deal with them. I just get frustrated when people tell me to “trust my instincts” because I honestly don’t think I can, and it makes me feel as though I’m failing at the most basic level of motherhood.

Other worst advice, “Sleep when the baby sleeps.” He didn’t! 

The best things about being a mother: Unconditional love both ways. It really is like nothing else I have ever experienced - loving and being loved so whole-heartedly, so completely, without reserve, question or judgement. I know it’s a cliché but when he looks at me and smiles, everything is truly right with the world. 

Seeing traits of the people I love in him. Sometimes he’ll grin at me (usually whilst doing something mischievous that he knows he shouldn’t be!) and I’ll just see Dave’s face looking back at me or he’ll be snoozing on the sofa, a perfect, miniature version of my Dad, his Pops. He has inherited the deepest, bluest eyes from my Mum and Sister, and when he shrugs and rolls his eyes, he is suddenly his eldest cousin. The person I love most in the world reflects the people I love most in the world and that is a wonderful thing. 

Seeing how excited he gets about the simplest things is helping me to appreciate them afresh. All of the things I had been taking for granted or had stopped noticing years ago, I am suddenly seeing again. It is both humbling and inspiring to rediscover the world through his eyes. 

Spending time with him – he is genuinely a cool and funny little guy. He has a cracking sense of humour and makes me laugh out loud on pretty much an hourly basis. 
I love daydreaming about who Charlie will be, what he will do, what will excite, inspire and amaze him. The whole world lies in front of him just waiting to be explored. So many wonderful discoveries and untold adventures await him and I hope he will experience, embrace and enjoy it all. 

The worst/hardest thing about being a mother: Constant worry, particularly about his health. I sometimes feel that I lurch from one paranoid obsession to the next: from 0- 6 months it was SIDS; from 6-12 months, meningitis; since 12 months (now he has learned to run and climb), it’s head injuries I fear the most. 

Early mornings. 7am is a good lie-in these days. On the bright side, I suddenly have so many more hours in my day and feel as though I’m much better at managing my time and making the most of every minute that I do get to myself. 

It’s relentless! All day and all night, every day and every night, although we are really lucky that my family live close by and are happy to help out to give us a much-needed break. 
The immense responsibility is sometimes overwhelming. 

Has being a mother changed you?: Yes and no. I’m still the same person I was before I had Charlie, but with a few tweaks. I’m Charlie’s Mum and I am immensely proud of that, but I’m still Lucie - and that’s really important. Motherhood has changed me in the respect that I’m now much better at putting things into perspective and not sweating the small stuff. I also have a better work/life balance than ever. Being a mother is the most important thing in my life and Charlie comes first, but that doesn’t (and shouldn’t) mean that nothing else in my life matters. For me, being a good mother is about being able to balance all the different elements of your life and give each the right amount of time and energy to keep everything on an even keel. I don’t always get it right but I try. 

Hopes for your growing family: 
In no particular order: 
That Charlie learns to stroke the cats gently rather than demonstrating his love by grabbing fistfuls of fur and pulling their tails. 

That as a family we remain happy and healthy and strong and supportive for one another. 

I want to make Charlie proud of us as his parents. We don’t necessarily need to be best mates but if he grows up thinking his folks are alright, that’ll do me. 

That Charlie is happy in his own skin. 

That he is kind, caring and courteous but not too preoccupied with what others think of him. 

A sibling for Charlie… but not just yet (!). 

Advice for New / Expectant Mums: There is no ‘right’ way. There is no magic book that has all the answers and will, if followed to the letter, guarantee a happy, healthy, socially confident, well-balanced, polite and resourceful child who sleeps through the night from two weeks, eats a healthy and well balanced diet and never cries. Sorry. 

The truth is we are all just bumbling our way through, trying to do the best we can and find the things that work for us and our family. Sometimes it would be amazing to just have the answers handed to you but in the main, one of the most rewarding things about motherhood is finding your own way through a tricky situation and coming out of the other side. 

You don’t need to buy everything the adverts tell you to – I was something of a marketing person’s dream. I despair of the number of things that remain in their boxes to this day...
That said, if you are planning to breastfeed and prefer to cover up, I would highly recommend buying a breastfeeding shawl (I opted for a Baby BuBu poncho style one with press studs so it fastened securely) My life changed after I bought it and suddenly feeding in public was a far less daunting prospect. 

Go on a baby and children first aid course. Hopefully you’ll never need to put it into practice but the confidence and peace of mind it gives you is priceless. (www.milliestrust.com is an amazing charity that offers free / reasonably priced courses across the country)

Gemma and Joel

Name: Gemma

Child: Joel, 14 months

Location: Sale

Expectations of motherhood: I always knew I wanted to be a mother, but I didn’t think we’d have a family until we were in our 30s. I was only 25 when we got married and although we planned to have a baby we also had big plans to travel the world. Then a few years ago I got diagnosed with endometriosis, I was quite poorly and was told that I might find it difficult to get pregnant. Suddenly my priorities changed and it seemed like the most important thing in the world. We talked a lot about it and decided that it was better to start trying earlier. 

It took us a while to get pregnant, but not as long as a lot of people and I’m now really grateful for that. However, at the time it felt like we were the only people in the world who didn’t just have to think fertile thoughts to make a baby. After a few months it became an obsession, I read every book and took every fertility test and it felt like it was all I could think of or talk about. I was scared it was never going to happen for us and felt so guilty that there might be something wrong with me. After more than a year, we arranged to see a fertility doctor and the day I got my appointment I found out I was pregnant. It was such an amazing feeling; I remember just saying those words over and over in my head ‘I’m pregnant’ just to see what it felt like. I loved how it sounded and felt such relief that we were going to get what we so desperately wanted. 

During pregnancy, if I thought about motherhood I imagined myself as a complete natural who would be back in her skinny jeans within a week, would breast feed like a goddess and would raise healthy brilliant children all whilst whipping up a spectacular batch of cupcakes and keeping an immaculate house. On other days I thought I would be a disaster who would raise delinquent children and never wear mascara again, but thankfully I think the reality is likely to be somewhere in between.

I was nervous when I was pregnant as I felt quite out of control, obviously I could control everything that I did and what went into my body, but I was terrified the baby would just stop growing or that I had wanted a baby so badly it was a phantom pregnancy. Because of this I don’t think I gave too much thought to what it would be like when he got here, I naively thought that conception and pregnancy were the difficult bits! 

Reality of motherhood: I was very lucky as I had a straight forward and quick labour. I had been very positive about it and didn’t feel scared as I just wanted him here and really thought as soon as he was, everything would be fine. I had imagined that I would have a relaxing, dignified water birth and they would pass me my beautiful child and all would be well. In reality, even the most straight forward labour is completely undignified. When I first saw him I was a bit stunned and I couldn’t hold him because I was horrified at the amount of blood and just kept asking, 'Is that normal? Is everything ok?' 

When I calmed down we had skin to skin contact and he fed straight away, it was pretty magical and I knew instantly that I would do everything in my power to be the best mother in the world. Unfortunately, the panic then came back as dozens of nurses and doctors all came in to take a good look at me. I had to go to theatre due to some complications and this burst that magical little bubble. It was rotten to be whisked away, but I was back with him within a couple of hours and we were both fine. 

When I got taken up to the ward the midwife made me a cup of tea and gave me a biscuit and I sat in bed and watched him sleep. It really was as wonderful as I’d expected and I felt enormous calm. Everyone had said I wouldn’t sleep in hospital, but after staring at him for a while I slept really well. I heard other babies crying and thought perhaps I’d got a really good one because he slept all the way though. I’m really glad I slept that night because for the next four months Joel did not sleep for more than an hour at a time!

To say Joel was a bad sleeper is the biggest underestimation ever. We became obsessed with sleep, I know every new parent says the same, and everyone will warn you about it, but nothing can prepare you for it. Someone once said to me that once you have a child, sleep is never very far from your mind, and this was so true for us. I used to meet up with friends and we would compare how much sleep we had the night before, the standard greeting became, ‘How was your night?’ At the time I genuinely believed I was the most tired person in the world and if someone told me their baby had slept for more than an hour I would be sick with envy. I breastfed Joel, and from what I know of mothers who haven’t, lack of sleep is the biggest downside. I thought there must be something wrong with him as he fed all the time, and for ages. I would sit up at night feeding him looking at articles on the internet about breast feeding and wondering what was normal. I realise now he was fairly normal for a breastfed baby, but I just was not prepared for it.

I think the reality of motherhood is quite different to looking after a newborn baby. Motherhood is terrifying, exciting, difficult, rewarding, exhausting and exhilarating all at the same time. But that first 6 weeks is like a boot camp before you can start getting to the really good bits. In the beginning, just getting out of the house is a small miracle. Our first proper trip out was when Joel was 5 days old, we went for lunch and I sat in a café whilst Steven was at the counter and just cried. It suddenly felt overwhelming to be out of the house with our baby. He looked so tiny and it seemed wrong that he should be anywhere near the real world. I was also equally terrified that he would wake up and I would have to feed him (god forbid anyone might see my nipple!) or he would cry and I wouldn’t know what to do and I would be found out as the incompetent mother that I obviously was. 



I was struggling to keep it together and a lady came over and asked if I was okay, she assured me, 'It gets better,' and said I was very brave for being out of the house with a 5 day old baby. It’s funny because at the time I thought it was weird to say I was brave, but now I see people out with tiny babies and I understand what she meant. At the time I thought I should be out and about, getting back to reality and showing the world what a competent parent I was. If I have another baby I fully intend to stay in my pjs for a month and demand everyone else comes and makes me tea. 

During the first couple of months when everything felt like a battle and I doubted myself and my instincts on an hourly basis, my husband and I would ask ourselves each night, ‘What went right today?’ Some days the best I could come up with was, ‘he’s still alive’. In hindsight, there’s not much that can beat keeping a small child alive.

After that first few weeks of feed, change, sleep, feed, change, sleep, panic, feed, cry, feed etc etc. Something clicked. I’m not saying I was suddenly the wonderful earth mother I fantasised about, but somehow it wasn’t all so terrifying. I could get out of the house in under an hour, I was a dab hand at feeding without exposing myself, and I could make, butter and eat a piece of toast one handed. I began to relax and actually enjoy this little bundle that I had been given. There was a momentous evening where we put Joel to sleep upstairs whilst we stayed downstairs and had tea and watched TV. I felt like we had really achieved something! It was a far cry from the early days where I would fall sleep without any dinner.

Taking your child home for the first time: I was so excited to get out of the hospital and take Joel home. After Joel had passed all his tests, I had eaten some fairly grotty fish and chips, had the best shower of my life and had been visited by Graham (the very handsome anaesthetist), we were given the green light. I bundled all my things into a bag, put Joel in his snow suit which drowned him and we got him into his car seat. As we walked him down the stairs and to the car I could not stop grinning. I felt like we were doing something naughty and half expected a mid-wife to come and say, ‘Sorry, we made a mistake, of course you can’t keep him; he’s too perfect’. But we must have slipped through the net because we got him to the car and buckled him in, this was all spoiled by a crazy lady in the carpark who kept asking us for money, but we shook her off and Steven drove us home. I don’t remember if we talked, I sat in the back with Joel and we listened to Noel Gallagher’s high flying birds. I remember thinking it was a shame that the first bit of the outside world Joel got to see was an industrial estate in Wythenshawe. When we got home we put his car seat down in the middle of the lounge and both just looked at him. He was asleep and neither of us knew what to do.

One thing that really sticks in my mind about the first few weeks was how insignificant everything else seemed. I remember watching TV and getting cross - they were making jokes and it all seemed so frivolous. It’s ridiculous but I just thought, ‘I’ve just had a baby, do you not know how significant that is?’ and I couldn’t think about anything else or anyone. If a friend talked to me about work, or a problem, I couldn’t concentrate and kept thinking, ‘this is nothing compared to having a baby, look at that baby! How can you care about anything else’? Of course, thankfully, this wore off and I am now able to hold a relatively normal, non-baby related conversation. 



Best advice/worst advice: The day after Joel was born and we were still in hospital I asked the midwife for help breastfeeding, she manhandled him and me to get him latched on, it was unpleasant and I felt like I wasn’t part of it whilst she grabbed my breast and shoved it into his mouth. Eventually he was feeding and as I relaxed into it I instinctively stroked his hair. She batted my hand away and told me not to do that as he would ‘enjoy it’. I immediately stopped and felt so silly that I had got this basic thing wrong. Looking back I should have slapped her. He is my baby and how dare she criticise me for touching him. Once I was home and got some perspective I could see that she was wrong to have said this and thankfully breast feeding went well for us, I went back to stroking his hair when feeding and still do it when I give him his bottle now. Who knows, maybe it’ll ruin him for life but it’s nice for the time being!

The best piece of advice was from a friend who already had two children when Joel was born. She told us to do whatever was necessary for us all to get some sleep. This did mean feeding him to sleep when he was tiny, giving him a dummy, letting him sleep in our bed and at about 10 months doing controlled crying. All big no no’s according to some people. I don’t think it matters, he now sleeps in his own bed every night, doesn’t need a feed to fall asleep and I seriously miss the days where I could bring him in bed with us in the morning for half an hour’s extra sleep! I’m sure there’s a cut off or maybe we’ve just been lucky (or thanks to controlled crying), but I think that as with most things, if you listen to your child and follow their cues, they will get in the end. 


Hardest parts of being a mother: The worry and anxiety, every minute of every day. I have terrible visions of Joel choking, stopping breathing, getting kidnapped, contracting a horrible disease, getting hit by a car etc etc. I lie in bed at night and will suddenly be overcome with terror that he’s stopped breathing and I’ll have to go in and check on him. I don’t know whether I’m more or less anxious than other parents, but the constant thought that something awful might happen to him is exhausting.

My emotions are now more powerful than ever and I react to things in unpredictable ways. When Joel started crawling I turned up at a friend’s house in tears because I felt unprepared. I’d spent that morning trying to get ready with him mobile and I felt I was going to unravel. I suddenly realised I couldn’t just leave him because he could move and so the logistics of getting a shower and getting dressed foiled me. I came up with the brilliant plan of shutting the bedroom door with him in the bedroom whilst I ran to the toilet. Inevitably he crawled over to the door and sat behind it so that when I tried to get back in I had to edge the door carefully so as not to knock him over. In hindsight, leaving a baby behind a closed door is stupid for many reasons and I felt like an idiot for not realising that at the time. The reason I was crying when I got to my friend’s house was not because I nearly hit my small child with a door, but because I felt guilty for being annoyed that his crawling made my life harder. I felt awful that instead of celebrating this milestone I felt resentful.

Although I have had amazing support from some of my friends and my sister, I often feel like I don’t have a role model and that I’m making it up as I go along. I don’t have a very good relationship with my mum and although I have some very happy memories of childhood and there were some things she did very well, she’s not able to be there for me now and when other mums talk about their mums coming over and ironing/cooking/babysitting/listening/giving advice I feel a bit sad. 

Best parts of being a mother: It’s lots of fun. Before he arrived, when I thought about being a mum I imagined this tiny person who was completely reliant on me and how that would completely change my life. What I never bargained for was how much I would enjoy hanging out with him. He is brilliant and he’s only 14 months old. I love seeing the world through his eyes and realising that there is so much that is exciting and beautiful out there. Experiencing all of his firsts is a privilege and I’m documenting them like I’m the first person to ever have a child – first foods, first time at the beach, first shoes, first tooth, first car journey, first steps, first easter egg, first day at nursery. It’s never-ending and brilliant. I love how he’s so enthusiastic about things, tonight he laughed with excitement and flapped his arms up and down because I presented him with a satsuma. It’s infectious and we both sat there giggling whilst we shared a satsuma. 

I loved being on maternity leave, that’s not to say that looking after Joel full time was easy because at times I was a wreck with how hard it was. But I pledged to make the most of my year off and do as much stuff as I could with Joel and I feel I did that. We were out and about every day, I took him to lots of groups, and we always had plans. If we’re at a loose end we’ll go to a café and share a tea cake and I’ll read him a book. I never realised that having a baby meant I would have constant company and would never be bored, I am so in love with my little family. Sometimes Joel will do something funny or new and Steven and I will just look at each other and smile, I’ll say ‘he’s ace isn’t he?’ and we’ll both feel very smug that somehow the pair of us managed to create this perfect little person.

Hopes for your family: I hope that Joel will always know he is wanted and loved. I hope that he continues to be the happy and funny, sociable child that he is, and that we continue to cram as much fun stuff into our free time as we can. I hope we’re able to move in the next year or so to a bigger house where he can run around in the garden and have a play room, and that we will fill the spare room with another baby who will be excellent company for Joel (I secretly fantasise about what good friends they will be and that they and their partners, and then children will always want to come to our house for Christmas).

In the longer term, I hope that we will be able to teach Joel enough about the world that he will go out on his own and have some amazing adventures. I hope that he grows into the kind of young man who gives up his seat on the bus, instead of the kind who smashes up bus stops. I hope that he finds someone wonderful to love who loves him back, and that he finds something to do for work that he is good at and enjoys. I hope he is the kind of man who calls his mum once in a while.

Advice for new and expectant parents: This is not so much advice, but an observation/warning. Becoming a parent changed my relationships… all of them! Some for the better, and some not so much. I have been amazed at the support of some friends. Of course the very fact that I was off work with a baby meant I spent time with people who were also off with their babies and in doing so I have made some amazing friends that I don’t think I would have got through this year without. But parallel to this, some friends have not been as supportive or enthusiastic as I needed, and that has been hard to accept. Probably most profoundly, it has changed my relationship with my husband. I didn’t think I could love Steven much more, but when I hear him laughing with Joel, or reading him his bed time story, it’s super cheesy but my heart just swells fit to burst and I cannot help but smile.


Advice - If someone offers you help, take it, get your visitors to make the tea and don’t let anyone in who doesn’t come bearing cake. Going back to work after maternity leave won’t break your heart (even if it might feel like it at the time), don’t leave a small child unattended with a toilet roll and boxes/wooden spoons/anything dangerous are much more exciting that the most expensive, top of the range educational toy.

Relax! I think I was too hard on myself with a lot of things, I cried over giving Joel a dummy because I thought it made me a failure. In reality it stopped him crying which gave us all a bit of peace and quiet, how can that be a bad thing? As long as he doesn’t have it when he’s off to university I think he’ll be okay. I wish I had really believed the advice that you can’t spoil a baby. I remember worrying in the first few days whether it was okay to hold him all the time, if I could go back I probably would have never put him down.

Everyone will have their advice (she says typing advice) some of it will work for you, some of it won’t. That doesn’t make you or them a better parent. We’re all doing the best we know how to do, and no one can be perfect all of the time. Mums can judge one another, I think we’re all guilty of it and some opinions are more acceptable to have than others and some mums have louder voices than others. If you surround yourself with people who support you, encourage you and who you can be honest with, you won’t go far wrong. 

Oh, and buy a hand held hoover.


Gemma chose to have her photos taken at the Bean and Brush, Sale because it has provided a baby and mum friendly haven for her since she's had Joel.  

Charlotte and Allegra

Name: Charlotte

Child: Allegra Jean Simpson, 14 months

Location: Gorton, East Manchester

Expectations of Motherhood: All my life I've never once doubted that I wanted to be a mother even though I felt a bit ambivalent towards other people's children - I only really liked them if they were cute, quiet and snot-free. I started to go a bit crazy when I was 28 and still single - I was the only one of my friends who was already fretting about my biological clock. But when I did fall in love I stopped worrying about it so much because I was so happy with my relationship. Then I sort of accidentally (having not tried very hard to prevent it) got pregnant on honeymoon. The timing wasn't ideal and I was a bit wary about the whole thing but still thrilled (although I was secretly worried I might not love my baby as much as my cats). I guess I hoped I'd be a similar sort of mother to my own mum. I wanted to give my child time rather than money, to do lots of reading and creative make-your-own type activites and to bring my child up to be a Guardian-reader.

Reality of Motherhood: It was surreal to begin with - we just stumbled along in a sleep-addled haze trying not to break the baby. I was overwhelmed by how lovely our little girl was and relieved to find that that there was definitely no contest between her and the cats but I suppose when she was a newborn it was hard to know exactly who I was in love with - she was just this precious little bundle of potential. But every tiny developmental step has enabled me to know Ally a little bit more. There's no way to describe the feeling when she smiles, giggles or reaches out her arms to me. Every night I tell her I love her and one night a couple of months ago, I asked her if she loved me and she said "yeah". I cried. I don't really have any concept of motherhood. I only know what it is to be Ally's mum - and Ally is just the most amazing, fun and entertaining person. I love spending my days with her and teaching her about the world. It's such a privilege to be able to introduce someone to the sea or an elephant or Nutella for the first time and to be able to share with her everything that I love - people, books, places, foods, animals - everything is new to her and it's all tremendously exciting. I learn so much from Ally too. She is desperate to take me with her on her expeditions of discovery and destruction. Of course I'm writing this on a good day. Ally slept appallingly for the first eleven months and refused to take any food or liquid that didn't come direct from my breast so there were many, many times when my reality of motherhood was only that I physically ached, I never got to touch my husband and my kitchen, clothes, hair, face and beautiful daughter were smeared with wasted yoghurt and soggy bread. But even at its hardest, I always knew deep down that I am luckier than I ever imagined was possible.

Taking your child/children home for the first time: We had a bit of a false start as we were sent home from hospital a few hours after she was born only to be back again in A&E within 24 hours. We then stayed in a paediatric ward for four of five days because Ally had problems with her blood sugar and with latching on. The second time around I was just so happy that we had our little girl at home and we had no more silly hospital rules to obey. It was lovely.

The best/worst advice: The best advice has been practical - a breastfeeding counsellor who magically stopped feeding from hurting and, months later, a chat with a paediatrician who told me that if I wanted Ally to eat and sleep normally I'd just have to cold-turkey breastfeeding. She promised me that healthy babies will not let themselves starve or dehydrate no matter how angry they are. Tough advice to follow but it changed our lives. Conversely the worst advice came from health visitors who wouldn't engage with Ally's weaning and sleeping problems. They were so obsessed with the wonders of breastfeeding that they didn't care that I was being woken up every hour or that Ally barely ate solids at 10 months. They just kept telling me everything was going really well!

The hardest parts of being a mother: The worrying: I want to wrap her in cotton wool but I know I need to teach her to be confident and brave. Also finding yourself again. I miss reading, working and seeing films, plays, exhibitions etc whenever I feel like it. I know I need to keep up my career and my interests to set a good example to Ally - and also so that she doesn't grow up with the pressure of feeling that she is my life and my happiness depends on her. But it's so hard to conjure up the time to make it a reality.

The best parts of being a mother: Watching Ally sleep (especially those rare moments when she goes to sleep on me); going in to her first thing in the morning and seeing her grinning little face; feeling proud pretty much all the time of all the things she can do and how gorgeous she is; the fact that it's made me lift my game and use time more efficiently; having such a fulfilling extra dimension to my relationship with my husband.

Hopes for your family: I'd like Ally to have a brother or sister one day. I'd like us to move to a house with a garden, closer to our friends. I want Ally to grow up happy, healthy and good (but also keep her wicked streak!)

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums?: Go out and meet other mums. Go to groups and make the first move to make friends with people. If the people you meet seem unfriendly, keep going to different groups until you find some nice ones - I don't dare imagine how hard the last year would have been without my mum-friends!