Emma and Effie

Name: Emma

Child and age: Effie, 7 years 

Location: Prestwich, Manchester

Expectations of motherhood: I was a bit terrified about being a Mum. I had planned my pregnancy, was in a stable relationship and at 28 years old had a secure job and home, but I still felt a bit like I was a kid and I wasn’t sure whether I would be any good at being a parent. My husband Adam and I were friends with a lot of musicians who didn’t seem to have any intention of settling down and having children so it was very much a voyage we were taking on our own. My elder sister down south had recently had her first child and seeing my delighted parents with their grandchild made me realise that if I wanted to be a mum then now would be a good time.

When I became pregnant I had worked in media research for six years, so I took that approach to my impending motherhood and found out absolutely everything I could about pregnancy, babies, parenting groups and childcare. I felt that if I did my research I would be prepared for anything and this was particularly important because whilst my husband and I had lived in Manchester for quite a few years, we had absolutely no family in the north west at all. 

I tried to enroll in NCT classes because my sister had made some really supportive friends at hers (who she continued to see post birth), but I didn’t even get a response to my enquiries so I ended up at the free classes provided by my local hospital. These ended up being a bit disappointing; not only did we not manage to ‘click’ with any of the other couples there, but the classes seemed to be mostly about giving birth and not much else. Despite this I was sure that even though I was intending to go back to work full time after six months I would be able to find a few other mums to be friends with.



I knew motherhood wouldn’t be easy. I was having the most fantastic pregnancy where I didn’t suffer from any morning sickness, and I had never felt so healthy, but I knew there would be challenges and so I tried to be pro-active and plan for any eventuality. I have a history of depression so I spoke to my midwife about post-natal depression and how we needed to look out for it, I attended a breast feeding workshop prior to giving birth and I filled out the birth plan in my NHS pregnancy book so my midwife would know exactly what I wanted (this was a great move; my ace midwife talked me out of having pethidine because in my birth plan I had said I absolutely didn’t want it, but then I started to request it in the middle of my labour). My feeling was that it was ok not to know everything, but that you needed to do lots of homework first.

Reality of motherhood: It sounds daft now but I think the thing that shocked me most was that after I had put in all this hard work preparing myself for motherhood and being surrounded by health professionals for nine months, I was pretty much on my own once I left hospital.

I gave birth late on a Sunday evening and didn’t really feel like I knew what was expected of me at the hospital once I became a mum. Not long after I gave birth I passed out in a bathroom, and after being found on the floor I was taken to what I thought was a side room with my husband and daughter (it was in fact another birthing suite). We settled down for the night, only to be woken up in the early hours in order for Effie and I to be moved to the main ward and Adam to be chucked out. Then when I woke early the next morning an imposing ward sister immediately told me how childbirth was miracle of God because the babies didn’t drown in the birth canal. Even as a church goer I was puzzled by this overtly evangelical approach and it just added to the confusion I was feeling.

It kind of went downhill from there. Whilst all the other mums on the ward were assisted with bathing their new babies, my nurse proceeded to bath Effie for me before taking the bath away and leaving me with my naked brand new girl who promptly did a sticky black poo all over the bed sheets. I panicked at the awful mess on the nice white sheets and asked for help cleaning her up; they gave me a small kidney bowl of water and some cotton wool balls. When my mother rang the nurses station to see how I was, all I could say to her was “Get Adam. Now.”




Any confidence I had started to seep away. I was finding it hard to feed Effie for starters. The intimidating nurse told me I should breast feed naked (and she meant me being naked, not the baby) and she told me off when I didn’t heed her advice despite me being on an open ward. Weeks before at my breast feeding workshop I had been assured that no one would leave hospital without having mastered the art of breastfeeding, but after two other nurses (including the lady from the breast feeding workshop) had simultaneously struggled to get Effie to latch properly I was quietly allowed to go home.

When I left hospital I was told a midwife would come and visit me at home that day, but she didn’t arrive until 5:30pm and only came when my Mum told me to ring up and find out where on earth she had got to. At that point I realised that Adam and I were very much in charge of our own destiny and no one outside of our family was going to help us much.

As it panned out I didn’t meet any other mums because I returned to full-time work after six months, and during my maternity leave I couldn’t find a local baby and toddler group that was open to babies under six months. Once I did go back to work Effie was at nursery full-time in a place based at my husband’s workplace, so I didn’t even drop her off or pick her up, and therefore couldn’t meet any mums at nursery either. It sounds obvious now, but I just assumed I’d get some support or help with finding some other parenting groups because the whole looking-after-a-very-small-person-thing was pretty much new territory to me. The reality was that I felt very much on my own and quite isolated and even now I don’t like to ask for help too much when it comes to childcare.

Taking your child home for the first time: Driving Effie home in our tiny lime green Volkswagen seemed the most perilous and reckless act anyone could have ever committed (even if I had read all the Which? magazine safety reports for baby carriers). Thankfully, once I got home I was quickly joined by both sets of grandparents and I was able to tackle important questions with the two matriarchs such as, ‘Do you think I will ever be able to go to the toilet again?’ and ‘Do you think I should have gone upstairs instead of trying to breastfeed in the living room in front of my father-in-law?’.

My mother stayed for a week which was just completely amazing. Her only advice was that we should get into a routine as quickly as possible (just because we would be on our own most of the time) and she spent the rest of the time cooking and cleaning for us. Her continued mantra of routine, routine, routine seemed ridiculous at the time but was probably the reason we stayed sane during those first few months.

Effie lost more weight than she should have due to my dire problems breastfeeding and the midwives visits were infrequent because I looked like I was ok, so I had no one I could talk to about if face to face. I had had it drummed into me right from the start of my pregnancy how very, very important breastfeeding was so I didn’t want to give up even though my baby was failing to gain any weight and each feeding session ended with both Effie and I in tears. Eventually my GP sister got on the phone and told me to get in the car and go and buy some formula. It was absolutely the advice I needed. It was the moment when I started to not only love feeding my baby but also to love being a mum. 



The best/worst advice: I was genuinely worried about giving up breastfeeding. When I told my midwife what I had decided to do she instantly told me that she had never been able to master it (well now you tell me!) but I was still convinced I was going to get dirty looks when out bottle-feeding. That didn’t happen, but I did find myself trying to stop breastfeeding without being given any proper advice on how to do it, something which appalled female friends from my mum’s generation. I had absolutely no idea how you stopped producing milk and the midwife just said to go cold turkey and take ibuprofen, and on no account release any milk to ease the pressure. I didn’t entirely manage this but at the suggestion of a friend of mine, I did end up buying several savoy cabbages so I could pop the leaves down my bra - which were bizarrely wonderful in easing the pain.

It’s stuff like this that makes me incredibly frustrated. Sometimes in order to get an important message across we can end up alienating people and making them feel guilty if they can’t meet those demands. At my birthing class we were told that bottle feeding would not be discussed because, “if you want to do it you just need to read the packet” but when I started bottle feeding I didn’t even know you could get teats with different sized holes because no health professionals felt they could discuss it.

The best advice can be the worst advice, and my advice to friends who have got pregnant has always been, try what’s ‘best’ and if that doesn’t work for you then look at other options, but don’t beat yourself up about what you can or cannot achieve. It applies to a lot of things in life, and parenthood, if nothing else, is all about compromise.

The hardest parts of being a mother: I was told that having a baby is like throwing a hand grenade into your relationship (true) and that the first 18 months are the hardest (also true), but I think that hardest thing is finding your motherhood path. I went back to work full-time for four years and sent Effie to a great nursery, but I remember seeing a photo at a parents’ evening of her using chopsticks at nursery and being completely guilt ridden that I didn’t even know she could do that. My work life balance was pretty rubbish for a long time but my employer has an amazing flexible working scheme which now means I work term-time only so getting home late and missing dinner with her in the week (using chopsticks, obviously) doesn’t matter when I know I’ll spend every day of the holidays with her.

It’s finding what’s right for you that’s hardest, because everyone does things differently and has different support networks and priorities. I think finding your own pattern is the biggest challenge for most of us.

The best parts of being a mother: It sounds like I’ve moaned a lot when in fact I have never regretted for a second being a mother. I still remember to this day the moment when I looked at my daughter and thought “Oh my God, I never realised how much my mother loves me”. I can’t say I particularly miss the baby years because I mostly love the interaction I have with my child which obviously develops more and more over time. I love sharing stuff with my daughter. We read lots together but I also like to share art, archive telly and music with her too. I refuse to believe that you have to bring your child up on godawful music (there’s a place for Bob the Builder records, but don’t let it dominate your car journeys) and I do feel a little bit proud that my seven year old has a genuine love of Mazzy Star, Ivor Cutler, Richard Hawley and The Dutch Uncles.

The other thing that makes my heart swell with a warm glow is seeing my daughter enjoying spending time with her friends (although this may well change in future years if they all stay out late without telling me). I don’t want to not be needed but I love it that Effie has her own little network now and she has her own interests and priorities. I am hugely aware that in a minute she’ll be all grown up and going to gigs on her own (please not One Direction) and that maybe she won’t want to cuddle me any more so I am making the most of her childhood. It’ll be gone in the blink of an eye, I’m sure of that.

Hopes for your family: Without wishing to sound morbid my hope is that we stay a family for a very long time. A family friend lost her life to a sudden illness a few years ago leaving behind two young children and it is incredibly heartbreaking to think that she is going to miss seeing them grow up and become adults, and they in turn have lost their lovely, kind mother. I think of her a lot and can’t really get my head round how life can be quite so cruel. I can’t bear the thought of not seeing Effie grow up so with that in mind I try and cherish every moment.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Well apart from my mother’s “Routine, Routine, Routine” (it’s hard but it does make life easier in the long run, especially if you don’t have much of a support network.) I’d say just try and find your own path and don’t be too disheartened if you’re finding it hard to do what other people seem to be doing easily. Everyone has different challenges in their lives and no child is the same. On a personal note, I’d also like to add that it’s ok to give your kid a proper telling off, even in public or in front of friends and family. We were quite strict with Effie when she was little (why have a naughty step when you can have a naughty corner? Every shop in town has a corner) and we now have a child who can politely sit through a restaurant meal or a long church service without legging it and doing five laps of the building. I’d love to be her best mate, but I’m her mum and I think it’s important to act like that (sometimes). I think not always being chilled out pays dividends. Although of course, I’d prefer it if you didn’t quote that back to me when she’s a stroppy 16 year old though...

Emma can be found on Twitter as https://twitter.com/Missus_IP

 

Jayne, Ben, Connie, Tim and Poppy

Name: Jayne 

Child: Ben, 12 Connie, 10 Tim, 7 and Poppy, 5

Location: Morley

Expectations of motherhood: I don’t know. I didn’t have any expectations because we kind of fell into having our kids. We’d moved to Morley in early 2000, and at the same time a friend of mine was struggling because her partner had walked out on her. She had a baby daughter and so I spent a lot of time with them, helping out. I loved looking after a baby and thought, ‘I could do this’. So we decided that we wouldn’t ‘try’ to have a baby, but we wouldn’t do anything to avoid it happening.
Reality of motherhood: I had four totally different pregnancies and on the whole enjoyed being pregnant. With each I had totally different experiences - the strangest being that after Ben my feet went up a size and a half! I also had gestational diabetes with Tim, but not with any of the others.

My first experience of labour was quite a funny one. Phil had just come in from a night shift and I’d started with contractions. The hospital insisted on sending an ambulance because our car was in the garage being fixed - it seemed so dramatic. The labour was going quite smoothly, but they wanted to get the contractions coming stronger so they decided to put me on a drip. My strict instructions were that I did NOT want an epidural - I hate needles - but eventually I was begging for one. By this time the contractions were coming thick and fast and so the anaesthetist couldn’t quite manage to get the needle in. I’ve got 7 little scars on my back where he failed to get it in. Eventually it worked, things progressed well and I could finally push. I remember little details like the fact that the Uefa cup was on the TV, but I was so woozy on Gas and Air. I’d alternate the demands of, ‘Water!‘ then ‘I’m going to be sick!‘. It really was a comedy labour. They had to steer Ben out in the end - I was desperate for him to be out! They used a Ventouse and I remember this tiny little midwife securing the cup, but then whilst pulling hard on Ben’s head, she lost suction and she ended up flying across the room. They used Forceps in the end and I had SO many stitches - it felt like it was going on forever.



Connie came two days late. We’d been at a BBQ at Phil’s parents house and I’d tripped over a hose pipe. After the fall everyone I’d insisted I went to the hospital, so I did, but I ended up staying in their till she’d been born. It was discovered that my blood pressure was through the roof, so I wasn’t allowed home because they were worried it was pre-eclampsia. They induced me after I requested it and I gave birth in the most beautiful labour room.

With Tim, because I had diabetes they wanted to induce me on the due day. He came really quick with just gas and air. I remember he had a really big head! In fact he’d never speak to me again if he knew what my first words to him were.

Strangely, Poppy took longer to come, but by the time she came I didn’t even need gas and air. Unfortunately I had a bad experience with a midwife when Poppy was born, and it has stuck with me. I’d been on blood pressure medication in the hospital and it’d ended up affecting Poppy’s blood sugar, but no-one had warned me that this was likely. Immediately Poppy was taken away to the Special Care ward and ended up being tube fed with my breastmilk for three days. I was so upset. I was surrounded with mums with their babies whilst I was on my own. No one had warned me that it might happen and it really affected my whole experience of having Poppy. If I’d have been warned then I think I’d have dealt with it ok. 

When Poppy was 3 or 4 months old my eyes started going funny. I was referred to the eye hospital. It had become dangerous to drive. The day that things became worrying I was putting toys in the toy box and I realised I couldn’t see my hand. I rang my mum in tears. Instead of waiting for the referral which seemed to be taking forever, I went to the emergency eye hospital and was diagnosed with Uveitis. They gave me an injection in my eye and I was put on a very high dose of steroids, and in addition 3 different types of eyedrops. I had to stop breastfeeding immediately because of the steroids.

The Uveitis (inflammation of the Uvea) was caused by an immune system overreaction, but it's not always diagnosed so easily. In hospital I had so many blood tests and scans, and in the end it was discovered that the Strep virus had caused the Uveitis. The treatment is like a low dose of chemotherapy and as a result of the illness I’m on immunosuppressant drugs for the rest of my life. If I’d have left it a couple of days I would have gone totally blind.

Once the Uveitis cleared up I was fine, and I can drive now. I felt so reliant on other people when my eyes were bad and I hated it. Driving at night was impossible for a long long time, so in the Winter months I felt quite trapped. 

From quite early on when we started to have the kids, we’d decided I would stay at home and look after the kids, and Phil would work. It became clear that work for me would be practically impossible because of the age gaps between the kids, as well as childcare costs and the general logistics. Now as poppy gets older, I work in school as a teacher’s assistant and part time admin assistant.

Motherhood did come quite naturally to me, but I did find going from one child to two kids the hardest transition - having a baby and a toddler was really demanding. After having two children the 3rd and 4th just slotted in though - it felt very normal.

Unfortunately having four kids means mountains and mountains of ironing - it’s a nightmare! With regards to trips out we can’t do as as we’d like. We don’t have the money for holidays abroad, so things like that have to be quite low key. My parents have a trailer tent so we all go camping as a big family and it does work really well. With after school clubs like beavers and brownies, I’m constantly juggling and trying to work out a schedule. Logistics wise it’s not possible for all the kids to do all the things they’d like to.

As a foursome they generally get on - more than they fall out anyway. I try to teach them to be nice; people that others want to be around. The big two are really helpful - the little two not quite so much. In fact I’m surprised my door frame is still in one piece, it gets slammed so much.

Taking them home: It’s hard to remember.

A tiny little thing curled up in the car seat. A cot in the bedroom and the moses basket downstairs and pushchairs and car seats littering up everywhere. It took time to work out how to make life easier, we wised up eventually and put a travel cot downstairs which doubled up a a play pen so that I could get stuff done.

I remember watching BBC news 24 at 3 in the morning whilst feeding. When Ben was little and Phil hadn’t gone back to work yet and I was so tired that I was near having hallucinations I’d been feeding so much!

With the rest of them it’s been so nice to introduce the older children to the little ones in the hospital. We’ve been so lucky that they’re really good with new siblings and there’s no jealousy between them.

Best advice/worst advice:

Some of the worst advice that I’ve heard is, ‘Don’t feed them bottles and breast at the same time because they’ll get confused’.

I would breastfeed Connie for 3 hrs solidly and she’d still be hungry. Eventually my mum said, ‘Just go to Asda and get yourself some milk and a bottle’. There is nothing wrong with mixed feeding. There is nothing wrong with bottle feeding! And that night was the best night sleep I’d had in a long long time.

Also, it’s all very well listening to the advice: ‘Don’t worry about cleaning up’ and ‘Sleep when they sleep’ but it is a little trickier to do that when you’ve got a big family.

Hardest parts of being a mother:
When they’re all being horrible and constantly demanding - it’s the low level naughtiness that drives you mad. It grinds you down. You get so fed up of hearing your own voice and telling them off, but you don’t want to just leave them to it because then they think they can get away with it.

Meals out are still pretty hard with the younger two. Tim gets giddy and Poppy is very wilful. She’s got ‘character‘ - she knows what’s right, but doesn’t necessarily choose to do the ‘good‘ thing and so she is hard to deal with sometimes.

Also, if they’re being picked on at school, that’s hard. You just want to protect them, but you can’t fight their battles for them. You have to let them work it out for themselves.

I wish we could take Connie further with gymnastics - she’s amazing - but we don’t have the time or money to devote to it. It is really hard, but we have to be fair and spread activities between four kids.

Loss of identity is hard too. When you have kids you’re no longer called, ‘Jayne‘ - you’re known as ‘Ben’s mum’, ‘Tim’s mums,’ etc. You also have hardly anytime on your own.

I do make time for myself though; the evenings are mine and I’m not working full time yet, so Monday is my day off while all the kids are in school. It’s nice to have no nagging, and a day where there’s no telly. Just reading books, listening to music and doing puzzles. It’s absolute escapism. I love fantasy books, they allow you to get away from real life - there has to be a bit of magic in there somewhere.

At school I played french horn (really well), but it dropped off. Then I heard a couple of years ago about a community orchestra at a local school (for all ages). From there I heard of another orchestra - The West Yorkshire Symphony Orchestra - and thought I’d love to do some more. They told me that if I could keep up I could stay. I was so terrified of doing stuff on my own. I’ve always been that way and it took a lot of courage to do it on my own. I wanted to do it so much though, and although I was not as good as I once was, I was alright and managed to keep up. Since then Ben’s had a go at Clarinet, Connie does flute too and Poppy’s also got a good ear for music, but I don’t want to force them into it just because I like it. They’ve got to find their own ways.

Best parts of being a mother: 

The fun. The random things they come out with. Watching them grow up.

When you’re proud of something and they’re so happy with what they’ve achieved.

Tim’s good at flattery, often saying, ‘You look beautiful mummy’.

I love when they come and sit of my knee and give me a cuddle by surprise.

When they’re all getting on with each other it’s great. When it snowed they were in the garden messing around together and laughing and I thought, I’ve done something right here.

It’s great to get good feedback at school too.

I like it when I like their friends too. When they make nice friends it makes me feel secure that we’ve helped bring up nice people.

The kids are just so different, and it’s so interesting to see the bits of me and Phil in all of them. Ben’s bright but less motivated - just like me. He loves reading too. Connie’s like Phil - bright and motivated. She’ll work and work and work - she’ll be successful. Tim has a little bit of an obsessive nature - video games in particular! Poppy is a real tom boy - she doesn’t want to be a girl.

A teacher who taught me saw my mum recently and asked what I was doing. 

My mum said, “She’s a mum of 4, she’s doing a great job and I’m so proud of her”.
That made me really happy to hear her say that. For something I accidentally fell into, I think it’s going pretty well.

Hopes for your family: To grow up all in one piece. Be happy with what they’re doing and stay friends in the future.

When I first started going out with Phil, I remember going to his parent’s once and seeing all of his siblings (he’s one of 7) coming and going. I loved the happy chaos of Phil’s mum’s life. It was total bedlam, with Phil’s mum in the middle handing out bacon butties and looking after everyone. I remember thinking at the time how wonderful it was. That was what I wanted. His family are such a great example because they never fall out for very long and just sort stuff out quickly and without fuss. I want my family to be like that, to be close and supportive to each other.

Advice for parents: If anyone offers to babysit say, “YES!”

Get time on your own. I recently went away with a bunch of people (through the orchestra) for a week. I didn’t know many of them well at all, but I had an amazing break. I was cut off, there was no signal or Internet and it was heaven. There was no cooking or washing for me to do and I made new friends. I was free to be myself, and nothing was expected of me because no-one really knew me that well. I was taken for who I was and I could be sociable or antisocial. I felt free.

Regarding your child’s style and dress sense, let them do what they want and so that they feel individual. Eg. Currently Poppy’s obsessed with dressing up as various superheros. I think it’s important to pick your battles, so if you’re child wants to go to the supermarket dressed at Spiderman, let them. The small things are quite easy to let go, and for the bigger you issues you’ll have more authority. If they really want to do something (and it’s safe) let them make their own choices.

If you need 10 mins, go and lock yourself in the loo....they may still knock on the door, but you’ll be able to catch your breath.

I like to leave them to it with arguments, so that they resolve it on their own.

Finally, give your children a name that you can lengthen and shorten accordingly for when you tell them off!

Extra info
The illness I suffered from can attack different parts of the body - it is called Uveitis when it’s the Uvea that becomes inflamed. Alternatively the liver can be attacked, which can be considerably more dangerous. Uveitis is the 3rd most common preventable cause of blindness, but is relatively unheard of. This charity works to promote knowledge and understanding about the disease. http://www.Oliviasvision.org

Louise, Belle and Isaac

 

Name: Louise

Children: Belle, 7 Isaac, 5

Expectations of motherhood: I didn’t really have any expectations. I’m very much an instinctive person and just knew that millions of women all round the world coped and therefore so would I. As I have always been a shift worker with years of nights, I also didn’t worry about the sleep deprivation. My thoughts were, ‘I can do that…easy’ – how naive of me!!

The one thing I had decided was that in no way would I be a single mum. I’d experienced the trauma of my own parents’ separation and witnessed some of my close friends struggle with the lack of money, the stress and no support. 

No, I decided that I would only ever have children within a secure family environment…umm.

For me there was never a burning desire to have kids. Just before I met my husband I'd resigned myself to the likelihood that it wouldn’t happen, since I was already well into my thirties and I figured it would take at least three years to know if a relationship would be worthy of creating a family. I’d also witnessed work colleagues go through the IVF process and the thought of having to go to that extreme wasn’t for me. So I guess at that stage in my life I thought it would be ok if it happened, and okay if it didn’t, which probably helped because once the decision to get pregnant was made it happened almost straight away.

Reality of motherhood: After the excitement of being pregnant, planning for the nursery and the absolute joy of creating a miracle you soon land to earth with a bump. It wasn’t until I started writing this blog did I realised that I was probably depressed at that point and it’s been painful to realise it.

After delivering my first child Belle, I recall very soon afterwards being suddenly alone in the hospital side room with her. My husband had left after the birth and I was attempting to shower to the sound of her crying. It was really weird and I wasn’t sure how I felt. I knew this baby needed me but I didn’t have this overwhelming sudden bond with her that I’d expected. I was blown away with the fact that I'd produced a miracle from my body, but slightly detached from it all.

Looking back maybe I was just too tired from the long labour, and in shock, but luckily soon after I started to bond with her. I was very fortunate that I was able to breast feed both children and soon relished those special moments - moments that only I shared with my baby, that rush of love and the hormones cleverly devised by mother nature. When all the visitors got too much, we’d run off and hide for a feed. These are some of my most precious memories.

Very rapidly you are hit with the torture of sleep deprivation, the inability to eat a meal, leave the house, take a bath or even go the loo. I remember opening the door to some relatives when Belle was 2 weeks old and noting how shocked their faces were at how tired and awful I looked. I felt like a ghost in some surreal state of mind. 

 The day to day drudgery of constant cooking and washing always got me down. I felt like I was running a café at some points. I’d just finish clearing up from one meal then it was time to start preparing for the next, yep the first year is hard. Both times it took me about 8 months to actually feel physically and emotionally like the person I was before - only now I'm me with kids. I remember feeling very isolated after my first child.

Even though our first child was easy to conceive, once we decided to extend our family we had the tragic experience of two consecutive miscarriages. It was such an emotional rollercoaster. I remember vividly the sonographers face when she recognised there was no heartbeat. It was all like a dream, being taken into a quiet room and waiting for the inevitable news. I was just in disbelief. It happened again two months later. I will never forget those times and often feel heart wrenched when I think how old they would have been now, what they’d have looked like. I imagine two hybrids of Belle and Isaacs’ faces.

Eventually my son was born and the world seemed all good. We were the happy family I’d dreamt of. The sleepless nights were still hard but being a second time mum I knew the overwhelming love and bonding that developed was worth it and truly amazing. I was more confident knowing the hard times would settle down. I have always been a really passionate believer in breast feeding and I was adamant that I would succeed. I even expressed milk at work despite my manager and colleagues thinking I was mad, so yes I pushed the boundaries. Maybe I’m looking for an excuse, but just before my sons second birthday my husband left me and the children.

Suddenly I was a working single mum with 2 children under the age of 4. To quote my daughter. OMG!!! 

How I coped is beyond me as I have quite a large chunk of memory loss of that time, but I did cope because - as they say - you have to. I just went through the motions I guess and kept focusing on being a good mum, I didn’t want the children to be affected by what had happened.

So three years down the line I’m proud to say that I’m still that working mum but to a 5 and 7 year old who make my life fabulous. Don’t get me wrong, they can be bickering naughty little monkeys a lot of the time, but the rest is awesome. My life is very hard, stressful and challenging but the rewards are immeasurable. 

The relationship all three of us enjoy is amazing and we are such a tight unit that work as a team. I thought I’d lost my purse recently and the usual dramas of putting their shoes on were suddenly replaced with speedy concern: 'Hurry up quick we need to help Mummy. Look she is worried!’ I found my purse but it was almost worth losing it to have witnessed that support from them when I need it. They are constantly amazing me with challenging questions such as, ‘how do I know if I’m awake or dreaming? I love it! They keep you on your toes. 

Then there is the love, such tender expressions of love. To have the moments we share as ‘The Maleks’, all the heartbreak, stress, trauma and worries are worth just a tiny fraction of what I get back, the tight cuddles and gentle kisses.

When you witness that look of fear when they think they have lost you in the playground, to know you can comfort them or reassure them they are safe after a bad dream. We spend about 80 per cent of our time together and even though it is such hard work I miss them desperately when they aren’t with me. I ring them every day just to hear their voices and say ‘love you’ to each other.

Taking your child home for the first time: I was in hospital for 5 days after Belle so I was climbing the walls to get out, although I don’t know why because I came home to a kitchen full of dirty pots and I just cried. I suppose it was the baby blues.

It felt really strange leaving the safety of the hospital and suddenly having the mechanics of a baby seat to understand. I was outside the main entrance waiting for the car and I felt like everyone was looking at me and judging me as to whether I’d be able to cope. The ride home felt like the most dangerous car journey ever and I couldn’t wait to get out. I also recall being really worried about the blazing sun and having visions of it causing laser type burns to Belles skin if it came into contact for even one second. The word neurotic springs to mind. The second time home was a walk in the park in comparison; I just got on with it without a second thought.

The best advice: Enjoy your baby and sleep when they sleep. Forget making cups of tea for everyone and tidying up, just get back in bed. You have no idea about how hard the sleep deprivation is, it is torture and unimaginable.

Forget all those plans you made when you were pregnant about ladies who lunch or meet for coffee, just fall in line with baby and go with the flow. I was advised that new born babies are still in shock and traumatised from being born - I certainly felt traumatised for quite a while despite having had a normal delivery, so that is probably right. Give your baby time to get over being born before you try and implement any kind of routine. Just try and get to know each other first. Relish the skin on skin, enjoy bonding with your baby.

Everyone tries to give you advice, but basically all mums and babies are different. Grab what information you think will be useful and just smile and ignore the rest.

Worst advice: I bought the Gina Ford book. Don’t even wedge a door open with it .Don’t take any advice that is prescriptive.

The hardest part of being a mother: This has to be feeling your children’s pain both emotionally and physically. Your instinct to protect them is so strong it is overwhelming. I knew quite rapidly that I would die for my children if it was necessary. 

The other big issue I have is guilt. It’s hard to be the best all the time as its 24/7 job. I have the guilt of being the bad cop, the guilt of working, the guilt of being a single mum - it does get too much sometimes. You feel guilty for wanting a break, just to get away and if you are lucky enough to get one you are then suddenly thinking, ‘How will they cope? What if this and what if that…’ My children are usually oblivious to all of this however and how rational I am will depend on how tired I am. 

 It’s also very hard to carry that weight of responsibility, especially being a single mum. To picture those innocent faces that rely on you for their security. This thought can keep me awake at night quite often. 

Finally the other worst part is lack of time. I feel like I do a rush job of everything and then the guilt comes back, it’s a vicious cycle. I certainly don’t have enough time for me. 

The best parts of being a mother: LOVE, LOVE and LOVE. It is so complete and unconditional from them both. When I’m feeling down or stressed all I need is a ‘mummy cuddle’ from both of them. To nuzzle and smell them or even to smell their clothes, it just soothes all my troubles away.

I love to hear their laughter and the imaginative games they play. I will often stop what I’m doing and secretly spy on them as it is so rewarding to see and hear. I’m so proud of how they are developing and achieving. They are normal kids but they are my kids and to witness the joy in their faces as they have mastered some new skill is awesome.

Hopes for your family: My hopes are for the basics. That they are healthy, feel loved, secure and happy. I don’t own my children but I just want them to have a chance to be the best at what they want to do. To support them in any way I can and hopefully have a loving respectful relationship. Once they are grown up – I hope that I’m not a boring chore to them. I hope that even though our lives will change we can have a close, loving bond and long-lasting friendship.


What advice would you offer for new and expectant mums: Sleep sleep and sleep. Cut yourself loads of slack. Forget the idyllic life of clean, happy baby and yummy mummy attending coffee mornings and various baby groups. Sod the house and comparing baby milestones. Some mums thrive on that but if it’s not you then seek someone similar. I needed someone to laugh at my sad stories and not pull a face when I ordered a large glass of wine at 12pm on a lunch date whilst baby was throwing the table decoration on the floor!! You still need to be who you are and have a life (albeit in hourly snatches once a week).