Jo, Finn and Elliot

Name: Jo 

Children: Finn, age 3.5 and Elliot age 7 months

Location: Glossop

Expectations of Motherhood: My mum was a single parent, she worked hard but wasn’t around a lot - I missed her. Then she died when I was 14 and so I always thought that motherhood was not a joyful thing, but more like hardworking. Thankfully I was wrong.

Reality of Motherhood: Tiredness like I’ve never known, but motherhood has healed my heart. I remember waking up early one morning to just watch both my sons as newborns and my heart was just full up and I thought, 'So this is what it’s like to really be happy.' 

Taking my children home for the first time: I was terrified. There was no way I could keep this little human alive without the help of a team of medical professionals was there?! I think my husband and I stopped the car 3 times on the way home from hospital just to check Finn was still breathing. I was a little more relaxed with Elliot - but only a little…

The best / worst advice: Best advice - pick your battles and let the little things go, and worst advice - don’t spoil your baby by picking them up and cuddling them...

The hardest parts of being a mother: My own mum died when I was 14. I have so many questions about being a mum that I would love to ask her, and she’s not here. Being a mum without my mum is often incredibly lonely. Sometimes I feel like a real fraud - surely everyone who sees me knows I don’t know what I’m doing… 

The best parts of being a mother: My children have filled a hole in my heart and life. My father left when I was very young, and my mum, both my grandmothers and my aunt all died within a few years of each other. I was left bereft and with a seriously hardened heart. 

I never thought I wanted to have children - I didn’t think I would make a good parent as I didn’t have parents to show me an example of what to expect. 

But being a mother has literally filled me with love and given me a new, more positive outlook on life. It's also hard work, and challenging everyday, but it forces me to look at myself and work on my attitude and outlook.

Has becoming a mother changed you: YES!! I have never been tested as much, or worked harder on myself to try to be positive and mindful - its the biggest challenge of my life and the biggest joy.

Hopes for your family: To laugh a lot, love each other and have fun adventures as often as possible. I want to laugh with my sons everyday.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Don’t rush - whether it be out of the house or into your old life - take your time and enjoy the loved-up bubble you live in with a newborn. Stay in your pjs, ask for help and just cuddle and love that little thing. Before you know it real life kicks in and your newborn is nearly ready to go to school...

Kate and Arthur

Name: Kate 

Child: Arthur, 7 Months

Location: Disley

Expectations of Motherhood: A difficult stressful period, with many dark days, arguments with husband, and generally tough times. 

I had read this so many times it was engraved on my brain. I'd had multiple conversations with my husband about how hard it would be; both of us sleep deprived zombies - of course we will argue and fall out over the most stupid of things. 

I had an image of me, covered with baby sick, exhausted and tearing my hair out after the tenth argument about who had/hadn't done the washing up. All the advice and comments throughout pregnancy were so negative: "Make the most of your time now. You won't get a minute when baby is here," "Things will be so different next Christmas, make the most of the peace and quiet this year," "You'll never enjoy a hot cup of tea again," "That's the last time you'll ever *insert any situation*". 

So much doom and gloom.

Reality of Motherhood: The most magical feeling and the best experience I've ever had. Yes I'm tired, exhausted in fact, but I've showered every day and managed to enjoy a hot cup of tea and have dinner ready for my husband most nights. I'm no hero, but I do what I can in the day. I go to baby classes, take the baby and dog for a walk, meet a friend for a coffee, take baby swimming. I'd go stir crazy at home every day so once the cluster feeding calmed down, and I felt confident enough that he could go 20 mins between feeds, I got out there. 

I pushed myself too much at first, desperate to "get back to normal" but we got into our rhythm and more than anything I was determined to enjoy him. Our time together is precious.

It can sometimes be a struggle to get out of the house but it really is mind over matter. If I have plans, I make it there (albeit sometimes a little late) whereas if I have no plans, it can be 3pm before I've left the house if I don't put my mind to it.


Taking your child home for the first time: Surreal. We arrived at hospital at 22:00 on the Saturday night, Arthur was born 23:41, and we left hospital at 4pm on the Sunday afternoon. It all happened too quickly really and I think I was in shock. 

In hindsight I think I completely missed out early labour and was straight in at the deep end. 

So yes I'm pretty sure I was in shock. But we were also so desperate to get home. I had managed to have a wee and get a shower, and Arthur had latched on and fed a few times, so they were happy to let us go and we were discharged. My sister and her husband visited that evening and we ate takeaway pizza in a haze of bewilderment, pain, exhaustion and bliss. 

Best advice: Get through the first two weeks of breastfeeding and it'll be fine. 

I'm sure every mother-to-be has a list of goals, or priorities. Mine was to breastfeed. I had more worries and sleepless nights over this than I did about the birth. I was determined - don't quite know why but I was. I'd watched YouTube videos (be careful what you google) and read as much as I possibly could, but nothing quite prepares you for something both you and your baby have never done before. 

When I was discharged from hospital I was discharged to the wrong borough; I live on the Cheshire/ Derbyshire border and this confused matters apparently. So my midwife team weren't informed that I was home and I never got my initial home visit and breastfeeding support. 

Despite all the research, I didn't know what I was doing. I was trying so hard, but I was in pain, and I would stall having to feed him. I was in tears when my husband passed him to me, this little squidge of loveliness that I was starting to resent feeding. 

By Wednesday it was unbearable, we went to the breastfeeding support at hospital, with my notebook of times he'd feed and for how long. There were pages of it. It was confirmed that Arthur had tongue tie. We luckily got an appointment for the following week and went home with a glimmer of hope that it would get better, which it did, eventually. The bad latch from the tongue tie had already done its damage and a nipple shield saved my breastfeeding journey. 

If you want to breastfeed, it's tough at first, and there can be complications and hurdles, but it's all been worth it for me. 

Worst advice: I've not particularly had any bad advice as such, but have endured comments that, although may be flippant or even well meaning, made me feel down, frustrated or even failing at times as a mother. Although that might be more to do with my state of mind. 

"Don't cuddle or hold your baby too much as they will then expect it all the time and you'll get nothing done" was repeated quite a few times when Arthur was, happily, being passed around for cuddles. All I'll say is bite your tongue, or if you don't mind confrontation then speak your mind but most of all don't take it to heart. 

The hardest parts of being a mother: It's relentless. 

They need you - they cannot function without you - and there is no let up. You feel like you'll never get a minute to yourself, you feel like a part of you has gone forever. Well, that how I felt at first. That haze of sleep deprivation gets into everything, and your hormones are all over the place. Everything is hard work: getting dressed, having conversations, remembering things, keeping in touch with friends; all hard work. But all worth it.

I remember only a couple of days after giving birth I came back from the bathroom, stood in the living room and just cried. I felt broken, like I'd never feel right again. My body wasn't mine, it was unbelievably sore and flabby and it upset me a lot. What I now realise is that of course your body takes a while to heal but it does stop hurting and it does get better. 

I still feel like I've given up my body to my boy, and maybe it's because I'm still breastfeeding. I don't feel like I did. I wish I'd appreciated my pre-baby body a little more, it was never as bad as I thought it was and maybe one day I'll learn to appreciate my post-baby body too. 

The best parts of being a mother: My heart aches when I think of my boy. There simply is no love like it. The first few long car journeys we had I found difficult, I missed him! I'd spend so long with him either sleeping or feeding on me, he felt part of me. So to be separated like that for a period of time was strange, I felt lost without him in my arms. Now if you'd told me that before birth I couldn't have comprehended it. But that's unconditional love for you, I guess.

I'm amazed at things Arthur can do. I really should give him more credit. Weaning was a big challenge for me. Milk was easy! I was dreading the mess, the fuss of it all, the rules, the guidelines, and I felt like I really didn't know what I was doing. But how hard can it be to feed a child? Well, not that hard it seems. We have gone be down the baby led path and despite the absolute horror of watching him gag every mealtime for the first week or so it seems to have paid off. He can feed himself and drink out of his Doidy cup at 7months old. I'm not talking fine dining with the best silverware, but he shovels in more than we often realise, the proof is in his nappy. 

Has becoming a mother changed you? 
Massively! I've more faith in myself - I've kept a little human alive for 7 months! Quite how I don't know but we are doing pretty good I think. 

Hopes for your family: To grow!! We both have siblings (my husband is one of three and I am one of four) and we so want that for Arthur. I fondly remember bickering with my sister over Monopoly, turning out the bathroom light on each other, and our brothers slapping our foreheads every time we walked past them. It's all part of growing up. 

We had great times together and we spent most childhood holidays in Wales in the great outdoors and that's what both me and my husband want for our little family. There really is nothing like blowing away the cobwebs with a brisk walk in the countryside. 

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Do a hypnobirthing course. 
Don't let anyone visit for the first two weeks. Talk to your husband/partner/family if you feel down after birth. 
Grow a thick skin when it comes to advice; mother does know best for their child. 
Go to some mother and baby classes. You will naturally gravitate to other like minded mums and it's nice to have people in the same situation as you. 
And breathe. Sometimes you need to take a step back to realise how far you've come.

Caroline and Rudy

Name: Caroline 

Child: Rudy, 7 months

Location: Leigh

Expectations of Motherhood: It took us two years to conceive Rudy and I was so anxious throughout my pregnancy that I don't think I really thought beyond the first couple of days to be honest. I was convinced that something bad was going to happen. I do remember the overwhelming fear that I wouldn't know what to do and that people would think I was doing a bad job. 

Reality of Motherhood: Motherhood has simultaneously proven to be the most challenging and rewarding job imaginable. I quickly realised that whilst I might not know what I was doing, you can learn on the job: babies seem to be quite forgiving like that really! 

Taking your child home for the first time: That first night was petrifying. I wish I'd taken a screen grab of my google search history that night - all the paranoia! I just wish somebody had warned me how noisy newborns are when they sleep.

The best/worst advice: 

The two best pieces of advice were:

1. Try to appreciate the night feeds - at some point in the future I'll look back and cherish that time together (as we are still doing three feeds each night it looks like I'll have a lot to look back on and remember!)
2. That babies' vests have those necklines so that you can pull them down when there has been a code brown. I just wish I'd learnt this prior to month two.

The worst advice was to sleep when the baby sleeps. Apart from the fact that he only really sleeps when we're in the car or he's being pushed in the buggy, I can't sleep when the house is a mess, there's no clean pots, I've not had a shower, I need to eat something ad infinitum.

The hardest parts of being a mother: Having to be constantly vigilant is very tiring.

The best parts of being a mother: There are so many positives it's hard to pick the best; but if pressed I'd say the sheer joy on Rudy's face when he sees me after a short spell apart. Oh, and the cuddles. They're great too. 

Has becoming a mother changed you? I feel like having Rudy changed me in so many seemingly small but hugely significant ways. I see the world through very different eyes now and I definitely appreciate the small things a lot more than I used to.

Hopes for your family: It might sound twee but I just pray we'll stay happy and healthy. We'd love more babas, but right now is perfect too.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Do what you want to do: if you don't want to go to that baby class, don't. If you don't want to meet that friend of a friend just because she had a baby at the same time as you, don't. If you Don't want to go round to great aunt Ada's who you haven't seen for ten years (for a reason) but your mum says you have to because of the baby, just don't. 

You've just grown a human. You can do what YOU want to do.

Jo and Oscar

Name: Jo 

Child: Oscar, 7 months

Location: Levenshulme 

Expectations of Motherhood: I actually tried desperately not to have any. I didn’t want to let myself. I have epilepsy, which has to be controlled with tablets, and coming off my tablets wasn’t an option so the whole time I was pregnant Oscar was exposed to my tablets. The risks included miscarriage, heart defeats, spina bifida & clef lip. Plus the birth had added risks associated with if I had a seizure while I was in labour, so I spent my whole pregnancy scared. I expected hard work, worry and sleepless nights but any expectations of love and joy I tried (and failed) to bury till he was here and I knew he was ok.

Reality of Motherhood: My labour was just awful; it was so clinical with tubes, injections, an epidural (I was advised to have one with my epilepsy) and a whole team of Drs, and then it ended in an emergency section when his heart rate dropped. I was told repeatedly I would need a lot of monitoring, but it was a lot worse than I expected. Considering having a child is supposed to be one of the most natural things on the planet there were more medical staff and there was more equipment round me than I had seen in my life. But it was all worth it, every second. When they first placed Oscar on my chest I was still in theatre and very drugged up, and I couldn’t really process what had just happened. Later when I was sat up and had come round a bit, and Oscar had been cleaned up and given back to me after he had been checked over, I remember looking down at this tiny human and feeling so much love. I had no idea I could love that much. He was just beautiful. My Mum still laughs about seeing me with Oscar for the first time, as I was being pushed back from theatre to my room, crying my eyes out and repeating, “I’m so happy!”

Taking your child home for the first time: I can remember being both excited and terrified. I knew my life and Sean’s had changed forever. I found having the c-section very hard, and when I was discharged I was still in a lot of pain. I was also still very anaemic and had had a haemorrhage. I couldn’t pick Oscar up or bend over to comfort him, which was so distressing when he cried. Breastfeeding was also really not going well, and so Oscar had to be readmitted as he had lost a lot of weight. I felt like a complete failure. Looking back I know that none of it was my fault, but exhaustion and hormones don’t really help you think rationally.

The best/worst advice: After struggling with breastfeeding to the point where it reduced me to tears, my practice nurse gave me some great advice: she said, “Rule number one is feed your baby and rule number two is to keep yourself sane and happy, as you’re no good to Oscar in the funny farm!” Breastfeeding is great but it’s not worth making yourself miserable over. Also, how you feed your baby is your choice. I really wanted to breastfeed, but me and Oscar both struggled with it so I mixed fed him for three months until I had to stop breastfeeding altogether. I was put under a lot of pressure to breastfeed and felt like a total failure as a mother when I found it so hard. New Mums are under enough pressure already - midwives and health visitors adding to this is extremely unhelpful and unfair.

The hardest parts of being a mother: The hardest part was seeing Oscar suffer and being able to do nothing. Oscar suffers from severe reflux and he had to have an operation when he was just over five weeks. Before the operation he was nil by mouth and kept crying to be fed, I wasn’t allowed to feed him. I was breastfeeding, so cuddling him didn’t comfort him as to him as I just smelt like dinner! I remember collecting him afterwards when he was still coming round from the anaesthetic and he was just frowning at me, looking so sorry for himself. Instead of the operation making things better it was a misdiagnoses and things got worse before they got better. His reflux got so bad he vomited blood all over me as he had developed Esophagitis - terrified doesn’t even begin to describe it. I hysterically rang an ambulance and the next few hours went by in a blur. My partner was working away at the time and I had never felt so helpless in my life. Oscar had to spend a few days on a nasal feeding tube (which he quickly worked out how to pull out) and looking at him in the metal hospital cot just broke my heart. I would have swapped places with him in heartbeat.

The best parts of being a mother: There’s just too many! But my top three would be when Oscar smiles at me; his smile fills his face and is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. No matter how times I see his smile I just can’t get enough of it. My second would be watching his Dad play with him. Oscar giggles, squeals and has so much fun. I just love watching my boys together. And lastly watching him sleep. When he is tucked up in his sleeping sack, totally at peace I can feel myself relaxing just watching him sleep and listening to his tiny snores.

Has becoming a mother changed you? The last 7 months with Oscar has exceeded everything I could have imagined, both on how much joy he has given me and the strength of the worry and protectiveness I feel about Oscar. My Munchkin is my life, I am his Mum 24 hours a day, he is never out of my thoughts. He is my priority now and this has changed the way I view all aspects of my life. Also the contents of my hand bag have changed dramatically, I now have a huge bag over the shoulder bag with nappies, bibs, a sippy cup, spare baby grow and a chewy squeaky giraffe in it.

Hopes for your family: Oscar will be our only baby, so much could have gone wrong but he is just so perfect so I’m not pushing my luck! All me and my partner, Sean, want for Oscar that he is happy and that he knows how much he is loved by us. Whatever he decides to be we will support him and love him unconditionally. Although we do joke that as he has creative parents (I’m a photography and graphics teacher and his Dad was a drummer in the band Alfie, and now a sound engineer) Oscar will probably rebel and announce that he is going to be an accountant or a lawyer!

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums? You know your baby better than any one else, so trust your instincts. Oscar struggled with breastfeeding and I knew something wasn’t right but kept getting told he was doing fine. As a first time Mum I didn’t have the confidence to stand my ground and get the help we both needed. Looking back I wish I’d spoken up more. Also for Mums out there who babies have reflux… they do grow out of it and it does get better. Oscars giggling chubby cheeks are proof of this. After everything he’s been through he’s such a happy little thing and he’s now doing great.

For anyone else who is dealing with similar issues, I got a lot of advice here: https://www.epilepsy.org.uk/involved/campaigns/women/mothers -

Kate and Edward

Name: Kate 

Child: Edward, 7 months

Location: West Didsbury

Expectations of motherhood: We never expected to have difficulty conceiving, and so we waited until we had everything in place before we started trying for a family. By this time we were both doing well in our careers, and had probably had more than our fair share of living like we were twenty-somethings (even though we were well into our thirties). My hopes were for a large, close-knit family. I had seen my partner Alan with our friends’ children, and knew he would make a wonderful dad.

Conceiving, however, was anything but easy. It took us four years, a battery of invasive tests, four failed cycles of fertility treatment, a devastating miscarriage and numerous other disappointments. We had almost given up hope when Edward was conceived. My expectations of motherhood then were very different – I dared not expect too much for fear something would go wrong, and even when it seemed as though my pregnancy was to be successful, it was impossible to see beyond the birth. Becoming a mother had become so elusive – something that would never happen to me – that I actually had no expectations other than to desperately hope that I would be able to hold a healthy baby in my arms.

Reality of motherhood: It sounds obvious, but pregnancy and early motherhood have been an incredibly intense experience, both physically and emotionally. My pregnancy gave me every side effect possible – acute sickness up to week 14, digestive problems, extreme hunger, unstoppable weight gain (four stone!), hip problems (I was unable to walk for the last two weeks of my pregnancy), bleeding gums, terribly sore feet. I could go on. It also made me feel remarkably alive, and I skipped out of bed in the morning during the second and most of the third trimesters, so utterly delighted to be pregnant. 

When Edward was born, I fell in love immediately. It was such an extraordinarily strong emotion, and so overwhelming at times that I spent quite a bit of the first few weeks in tears. These were tears of joy, and not the ‘baby blues’ I’d been warned about. I had, and still have, an overriding urge to be with him all the time, to make sure he feels safe and loved, and I have no doubt I would do anything – anything at all – to protect him. My priorities feel different too. My career has always been extremely important to me, and I could never really understand why some of my friends chose to be stay-at-home mums. I now understand why, and am trying to work out how I can do my job part-time.

The other reality for me is that my health suffered quite considerably after Edward’s birth. I developed a terribly bad back at about week seven, and was unable to lift anything at all, including my son. Initially I was told a bad back following the birth of a child was quite normal, but it went on for so long with no improvement that eventually I was sent for an MRI scan. I was not expecting the result at all – five spinal fractures. The vertebrae had basically collapsed. A bone density scan and further tests revealed that I had developed a rare condition called pregnancy-related osteoporosis. It’s hard to explain how difficult it was to be unable to pick up or properly care for my much longed-for baby while the fractures healed, and to see other people doing things with Edward that I had expected, and longed, to do myself. I also had to stop breastfeeding very suddenly following the diagnosis at four-and-a-half months, as I was advised this would help my recovery. This was probably the most difficult part of the whole saga, my distress partly hormonally-driven I’m sure. But Edward soon realised he could get twice the milk in half the time through a bottle (he’s not daft!), and has thrived. And because I spent so many months unable to lift him he is not a clingy baby, and is very happy in the company of other people. 

Taking your child home for the first time: We spent a week in hospital following a rather long labour which culminated in a dramatic birth, and when we finally got home it felt pretty unreal – I recall being surprised actually. I took Edward from room to room so he could see his new home, and remember breaking down in the kitchen because I never thought this moment would happen. I then spent the next 24 hours convinced I was going to accidentally harm this tiny creature. If he wasn’t going to die from being too hot or too cold in his Moses basket (how many times can you check the room temperature in one night, or fret about blanket thickness?), then I was going to probably injure him when I was changing or bathing him. I remember taking him for a hip scan when he was about three weeks old as part of a routine test to check his bone alignment because he had been born with turned-in feet, and being convinced they were going to find broken bones or other injuries. Silly I know, but he seemed so fragile to me that I felt so utterly cumbersome and clumsy when I touched him.

The best/worst advice: The worst advice I had was that babies are unable to get themselves to sleep. So in the early weeks I spent hours and hours rocking Edward and pounding the streets in an effort to get him to nap. I also at one point ended up with my iPad on my pillow blasting out white noise at full volume in an effort to ‘lull’ him to sleep in the dead of night. It became some sort of torture device! Not surprisingly I became very, very tired.

We were also told that newborn babies are rather dull, and our expectation was that Edward would probably not become ‘interesting’ until aged around six months. Not so! We have found every stage to be fascinating, and Edward has always interacted with us and given us so much back. Right from his birth we both felt a connection when he looked at us (I have a wonderful photo taken a couple of minutes after his birth where father and son are staring into each other’s eyes). And those gummy smiles of his have melted my heart since he was four-and-a-half weeks old.

The best advice I had was that babies tend to need a sleep after about two hours of wakefulness. So we gave it a whirl, and started popping him into his cot after he’d been awake for two hours; most of the time he would go straight to sleep. Once I binned the books with their reams of conflicting sleeping and napping tips, life became much easier. Another piece of advice I’m so glad we followed was to not have too many visitors in the first couple of weeks. Those few weeks with Edward and Alan – just the three of us – were incredibly precious and tender. There was plenty of time to see friends and family when Alan returned to work after his paternity leave. 

The hardest parts of being a mother: There are numerous challenges, most of which have taken me by surprise. The constant worry that you’re doing it ‘wrong’ is one. I had heard many times that your baby “doesn’t come with a manual”, and I didn’t really understand what this meant until Edward was born. I have spent hours questioning my own judgement, and I do seem to live with the nagging fear that something I am doing is unwittingly causing him long-term damage.

Another difficultly is seeing him poorly. We have been lucky so far that this has only stretched to coughs, a mild cold and a vomiting bug; I am dreading seeing him really unwell.

Yet another challenge has been letting go – or trying to – and accepting other people’s help in holding him when I have been unable to. It’s excruciating having to watch someone else comfort your baby.

The best parts of being a mother: The absolute, unconditional love I feel for my son. He has enriched my life immeasurably, and makes me feel glad to be alive. His huge, gummy grin first thing in the morning – so happy to see me; making him giggle uncontrollably by doing something really silly; him falling asleep in my lap when I sing to him and stroke his hair; seeing him develop more and more all the time, with each day bringing something new; and just the sheer privilege of being able to spend so much time with him and getting to know him. This may sound a strange thing to say as motherhood affects so many, but being a mother is probably the best kept secret ever – I never imagined how wonderful it could be until it actually happened to me.

Has becoming a mother changed you?: Yes. I feel I have grown emotionally. My priorities feel different; I would do absolutely anything for my son. I also feel different with regard to my own health; being in so much pain for such a long time, and being dependant on other people, has made me realise how fragile my own health is, and how important it is to look after myself. Lastly, I now understand a part of my own parents that I didn’t before, and feel closer to them because of it. I wish my father was alive to have been able to meet Edward. He would have fallen for him too! 



Hopes for your family: My hopes for Edward are that he is happy and healthy, feels secure and knows he is loved, and that he is able to fulfil his potential. I would also like to have a close relationship with him, and be an important part of his life when he himself is an adult.

As for other children…we always planned on having more than one, but we recognise this might not be possible, both because of my age and my health condition. We are seeing my hospital consultant next month, so will discuss the options around having a second child, and whether it is safe. If not, Edward is such a blessing that we will count ourselves very fortunate if he is our only child. We have a wide circle of friends, many of whom have babies around the same age, so I am certain he will grow up with numerous good playmates who will be as important to him as siblings.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Bin the books. All their conflicting advice about routines and sleep patterns just made me anxious.

The other must-do is to take part in an NCT antenatal course. The women I met have become firm friends, have kept me sane and have helped me through a pretty tough time; I’m not sure how I would have coped without them.

And lastly, take as much maternity leave as you can afford. It is such a special time, and it will fly by. Enjoy it.

Pregnancy-related osteoporosis - This is a poorly understood condition which affects a small number of women each year. It is believed that the hormonal changes associated with pregnancy somehow cause massive bone loss. Most of those affected regain their bone density within 12 months of the body’s hormones returning to normal after pregnancy. More information is available through the National Osteoporosis Society: www.nos.org.uk

Elizabeth, Rufus and Dulcie

Name: Elizabeth

Child: Rufus, 2 years 7 months and Dulcie, 7 months

Location: Northenden

Expectations of Motherhood: I so desperately wanted to be a mother, and I suppose I imagined all the things that other mothers seemed to have - healthy, thriving children that gave them equal measures of joy and being pains in the bum. 

I never assumed I would have a disabled child, although something niggled at me during my pregnancy with Rufus, and there was an underlying level of worry. I would have probably incorrectly assumed that life with a disabled child was something unimaginably difficult and scary. It is, but it also brings a level of joy that I'd have assumed wasn't possible. Sheer excitement in the minutae of life (he's smiled! he's picked up a toy and assessed it properly!) and a strength that I didn't know I had.

Reality of Motherhood: Nobody can prepare you for the shock of your first child. How utterly upside down your life becomes. Add to that Rufus was premature, very, very ill and spent his first four months in hospital whilst we were being told it was unlikely he would ever make it home - well, the 'reality' was so distant from what I expected. To not be able to hold your child and nourish them for their formative weeks (a gap that has been healed immeasurably by having Dulcie) was so incredibly difficult and yet somehow there were moments of calm, laughter and real happiness when Rufus was in hospital.

Now with two so young, I wondered what I stressed about with one! And in lots of ways Dulcie is really easy - she isn't complex; she's completely unmedicalised our lives. But by god, she brings a whole new set of things; being mobile quite early and demanding my attention. Rufus is easy by comparison now!

Taking your children home for the first time: After he came home, I was bound to the house by fear. He was still so fragile and tiny. It was pretty isolating. But once we did start reaching out, going to baby groups, my fears started to disappear. Now the shame with Dulcie is that I don't have the time or energy to go to groups, but watching the two of them together at home, interacting in their own little way, is really rewarding.

Bringing Dulcie home after a natural labour (Rufus was an emergency c-section), with her breastfeeding so easily - I have been known to describe (possibly a bit dramatically!) as an elastoplast on my heart. My pregnancy with her had some very scary moments, and they induced her two weeks' early as she looked as though she wasn't growing as well. But the minute she was born I knew she was ok. There is this mystical 'mother's instinct', but I really believe in it. 

The best/worst advice: 

The best: "This too shall pass"

I love this - moments of pain, moments of glory. Everything is a stage. It's good to remember that hard things will come to a conclusion somehow, and also not to rest on your laurels and embrace the glorious days as they are far too short.

The worst: The multitude of friendly opinions about what you should do based around what worked for someone else. Especially contentious issues like feeding, weaning and sleeping. Which is all newborns do I suppose! But especially with breastfeeding: "they have to go to you like this", "try holding them this way", "you have to get a good latch". Arrgggghhh! I literally needed to clear my head of all the 'should be doings' and let Dulcie take the lead trusting that she knew what she wanted - especially difficult after a child with an extreme oral aversion.

The hardest parts of being a mother: All the wiping - bums, faces, hands, highchairs, your face, your clothes. There's a level of stickiness you become at one with. Also feeling like you're not allowed to admit to being bored. I love my kids, but somedays it's just meal/feed/dress/whinge repeat all day.

The best parts of being a mother: With Rufus, it's that fleeting bit of eye contact. And he is a happy, happy soul. He has a laugh that I promise you makes grown men smile. From 100 feet away. And it's being his advocate - I feel proud to be his Mum.

With Dulcie, it's everything as it's supposed to be, but I also now know not to sweat the small stuff. And to believe in myself. Being a mother has really empowered me, more than my career ever did.

Has becoming a mother changed you? Yes, immeasurably. In so many ways. But sometimes I like to remember who I was before all this, because I get asked so often, 'Are you Mum?', especially with hospital visits with Rufus. And I think yes, but I also have other things I can do!

Hopes for your family: That we deal with tomorrow and all it's unknowns with the same strength and reasoning as today. Rufus' condition is classed as 'life limited and life threatened'. I think of that in a detached way, but I hope still with enough clarity to access all the things he needs for the best quality of life whilst also not sidelining Dulcie. I hope at some point I feel grown up enough for all of this!

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Trust in your feelings and instincts, but don't drive yourself crazy by trying to 'fix' everything or believing that every little worry will happen because you've thought it!

And skim read any books. Your babies will let you know when you're getting it right by them. Expect this to only be 50% of the time if you're lucky!

And if the unexpected happens, and you end up in an unknown place, reach out and ask for help. Shy bairns get nowt.

SWAN UK, Syndrome Without A Name have been a lifesaver for us. http://www.undiagnosed.org.uk

Elizabeth writes about her adventures at http://areyoukiddingney.wordpress.com