Debbie and Esme

Name: Debbie 

Children: Esme (8 months)

Location: Chorlton

Expectation of Motherhood: I thought it would be all soft focus, lifestyle blog living. Esme would love wooden toys, would never cry, wouldn’t need a dummy, the television would never go on and we’d spend our days baking, snuggling and skipping through Chorlton Meadows whilst throwing our heads back in gleeful laughter with our glossy manes flowing in the breeze behind us. I also thought there would be lots of opportunities for enjoying a nice relaxed bottle of wine with friends as our children played happily and quietly at our feet.

Reality of Motherhood: Well, the bit about enjoying wine is still true...possibly more so (and earlier in the day) than ever! Truly, this is the hardest thing I have ever done. 

I hadn’t quite understood how long, draining and (whisper it..) boring a day with a baby can be, nor had I ever really appreciated how consolidated sleep deprivation day after day, month after month can rip you apart and turn you into an emotional jibbering wreck. An emotional jibbering wreck who still has to keep a baby alive and entertained for another day. And also smile sweetly without crying when old people stop you in the post office and tell you to make the most of it because it will go so fast. Oh, the guilt!

Taking your child home for the first time: When I think of the day we took Esme home from the hospital, it feels as if I’m watching a film. I know I must have been there, but it is such a surreal memory that you could easily convince me that I wasn’t! I do remember feeling joyous, battered and terrified in equal measure. I was incredibly lucky in that I had a water birth in the midwife led birth centre, however due to a shortage of beds on the ward I was ‘strongly encouraged’ to go home rather than have an overnight stay. 

So, having given birth at 1am and having slept for a sum total of 45 minutes all night, we found ourselves sitting back in our front room just over 12 hours later at 2pm, but this time with Esme in tow. We were absolutely shattered and absolutely overwhelmed (particularly as we have no family locally to call in as cavalry). On our way home we even had to stop at a sandwich shop to get some lunch as I was (understandably!) ravenous and we didn’t have any food in the house as we hadn’t realised I would be home so soon. 

I remember sitting in the back of the car with Esme who was fast asleep and oblivious in her car seat whilst Gav ran out to buy some food and I just wanted to shout at all the people enjoying their alfresco lunches that I had just had a baby godammit – how could they be going about their business when this great thing had happened?! 

I also remember being concerned about breastfeeding – throughout my pregnancy I’d been reassured by the hospital and the midwives that a wealth of support would be made available to me once Esme was born to give us the best possible start with breast feeding, however there I was sitting at home with not a clue what I was doing and no one to turn to for help. I was clueless. Somehow though, between the 3 of us, we found our way! Gav was my absolute saviour – I would have been lost without him.

The best advice: Everything comes in phases. It’s hard to remember that when you are in the middle of the ‘why won’t she ever ever sleep?’ phase, or the ‘why can’t my baby make it through an entire baby class without crying?’ phase, but all the nightmare stuff does eventually come to an end. Sure, it will probably be replaced by another nightmare phase (hello teeth, I’m looking at you..) but you’ll be that bit more confident and robust that you will have a (slightly) better idea of how to handle the next challenge. Or you will have better honed your google search skills.

The worst advice: 'You mustn’t spoil your baby', amazingly from a consultant when she saw me pick Esme up for a cuddle when she was crying at a hospital appointment a few months after she was born! This throwaway comment caused me much worry in the early days as I battled the thought that Esme was unsettled because I had somehow created a demanding baby through my inexperienced and clumsy actions. Now I know that Esme was unsettled because she was suffering from silent reflux. Once she was diagnosed and taking medication she was so much happier and so full of fun. I’m so glad I followed my natural instinct to give Esme the attention I knew she needed, but I would be lying if I pretended I didn’t spend a lot of time wondering if my natural instinct was wrong on the back of that comment.

The hardest parts of being a mother: Being ‘on’ all the time – you never clock off and you are never off shift, no matter how drop dead tired you are and no matter how many other things there are vying for your attention. It is relentless!

The best parts of being a mother: Too many to mention. The middle of the night cuddles, just the two of you. The gummy smiles and belly deep chuckles. The fat little arms and legs that flap up and down with excitement when she discovers something new or sees me after we've been apart. I could go on and on! It’s enthralling to watch this brand new person discover the world around her. I feel so proud of her! It takes literally every inch of willpower I have not to post 750 photographs of her on Facebook everyday. To me, she is a wonder. 

How being a mother has changed you: Apart from the obvious physical transformation(!), and despite having more to do than ever before, it has made me slow down. It is a cliché but as Esme now sets the pace of our day, I take my time and enjoy the moment much more than before – previously I was always racing around and always on to the next thing. Esme the dictator simply won’t allow that anymore!

Hopes for your family: I just want Esme to be happy and fulfilled, and to know that we will always be here for her. But it would also be ace if she could please become an international popstar so she can reimburse Mummy and Daddy for the expense of all the 2am emergency Amazon purchases.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: I’m so new at this I don’t really feel in a position to offer advice…all I would say is, based on my own experience, hang in there! You will turn a corner, and it will get better! I felt I had lost all judgment in those early days, and I wondered when my mother’s instinct was ever going to kick in. 

To be honest, I’m not sure I ever developed a mother’s instinct – perhaps I just became more confident in my parenting as Esme grew from a little tiddler to a chunky monkey. Perhaps finally getting more than 2 consecutive hours sleep made me more robust. Who knows? Also, beg, steal or borrow a jumperoo...

Holly, Willow and Wilbur

Name: Holly 

Children: Willow 5yrs, Wilbur 8 months

Location: Levenshulme, Manchester 

Expectations of Motherhood: I always knew that I wanted to have children, but I think I wanted to wait for the feeling of being 'grown up' enough to become a mum.

I originally did a degree in Art and Sociology, but found when  job hunting it wasn’t very useful, so I initially worked in care jobs and mental health. A couple of years later I started a degree in Occupational Therapy to try and combine my creative side and my health care interests.

Half way through my degree we started getting a little complacent when it came to contraception and I got pregnant.

When I was younger I never felt that I understood other women or how I should really behave as a woman, so when I got pregnant I very naively felt like this was my opportunity to be the ultimate earth mother, living “as one” with this beautiful thing inside me that was made out of love. I wanted my birth experience to be calm, happy, the very epitome of womanhood and a bonding experience for my husband and I (and my mum who was supposed to be with me). Of course, it didn’t turn out as I had hoped or expected. 

I was utterly gutted when I went for a scan after a small bleed at 12 weeks to find out that my baby had died. I had a horrible miscarriage and cried for weeks. I became fixated on becoming pregnant again, probably to prove I could do it more than anything. 

When Willow was born I had planned to breastfeed her exclusively. I was prepared for the sleepless nights and the constant feeding and knew it was going to hurt, but I was determined I was going to feed her myself. I was even naive enough to think that women that didn’t breastfeed their child simply didn’t try hard enough!

As Willow grew up I had very clear vision that I wanted her to not feel restricted to girlie toys and have everything pink. I wanted her to hate Barbie, to climb trees, to get mucky and love it.
With my second child, Wilbur, I had expected to get pregnant straight away; it took three years. In this time I lost three stone and had another miscarriage, then I finally got pregnant with Wilbur. Eventually, I realised that he was a real baby who was going to make an appearance and so I should plan for his birth. My plans were very modest and all I really wanted was for it to be a positive experience, and nothing like my first birth experience.


I had expected motherhood to come naturally to me. I had expected what people tell you will happen; the rush of love for your baby, the elation when they are born and the grief of separation when they have to go to nursery and school. Needless to say, the reality was quite different! 

Reality of Motherhood:  Wow, the reality of motherhood hit me hard!

Willow’s arrival could not have been more different than how I had planned. She was breech and I had to have a planned Cesarean section. I had assumed an elective c-section would have been calm, positive and a pain free way of having my baby but I was totally shocked about how brutal the process was and how brusque the staff seemed. I started crying on Willow’s second day and must have stopped only 3 weeks later. Looking back I quite obviously has a rather nasty case of postnatal depression. 

Breastfeeding Willow did not go to plan, my milk never came in fully and she lost over 10% of her body weight. I had to mix bottle and breast feeding and beat myself up for months for not being able to exclusively feed her. I was not prepared for the constant anxiety and guilt or the insomnia, and not being able to drift off to sleep because I was so wired and terrified that she would wake up and want feeding at any moment.

Despite my hippy, earth-motherly dreams I was not a natural maternal type. Willow was a very unhappy baby, full of colic and never seemingly comfortable. She would scream from about 3pm in the afternoon until 9 or 10 pm and would be inconsolable. We would call it “suicide hour”.

I knew I had to care for her but I remember not being in love with her or particularly liking her. All the mums at the baby groups seemed to be doting on their babies but I just wanted mine to stop screaming for long enough for me to get some sleep. It turned out that poor Willow had silent reflux but she didn’t get diagnosed until she was about 5 months old. After being put on the right medication she became a much happier baby and we got to know each other all over again. I started to fall in love with her and realise that we had all had a really tough few months, but now things were only going to get better. 

My experience with my second child was totally different. I had a c-section booked but wanted a natural birth so when I went into labour naturally I was really happy. The labour was actually OK, I’ve had more painful toothache and although it was very uncomfortable and very intense I almost enjoyed the primal, instinctive aspect of it. My husband and one of my best friends were with me throughout. Sucking on gas and air and a couple of jabs of Diamorphine got me through 26 hours and then Wilbur was born. I was completely elated. I fell in love with him the moment I saw him, and I finally understood what all the other mums I knew were going on about!

Wilbur seemed so easy compared to my first experience. He was easily soothed and he didn’t cry all the time. I exclusively breastfed him, however he got an infection in his umbilical cord and again I didn’t have enough milk to keep his weight up. He lost 15.9% of his body weight and had to be admitted to hospital at 5 days old. I was gutted to have to start mix feeding again but he was going to be seriously ill if we didn’t.

Taking your children home for the first time: Taking my daughter home felt wonderful because I had had such a horrible time in hospital that I thought home was the answer to everything. As it turned out, home was the start of a whole new level of sleeplessness and perforated ear drums from the constant screaming. I ran on adrenaline and hysterics. My mum had come to help us out and ended up not leaving for about three months because I was such a wreck. My mum being around was a blessing and a curse really because she seemed to be the only person who could soothe Willow - I felt increasingly useless.

Taking Wilbur home was a totally different experience. My mum was there again, but I was determined to be more together this time. I was really lucky enough to get the support I needed.

There was a moment when I looked at my daughter and my new baby and suddenly all the hippy-dippy earth motherly feelings I had initially hoped for actually happened! I felt like I had everything I had ever wanted.

The best/worst advice: The best advice I had was from my friend Audrey. I would often take my daughter and go and hide at her house in the afternoon (to try and distract the baby from the evening screamies). She told me everything with children is a phase, even the good stuff - so whatever they are like now, it won’t last forever. That saw me through some very dark times!

The worst advice I had was whilst we were trying to get pregnant with Wilbur. It took three years to get pregnant and I had to go to the women’s hospital for investigations. People would constantly say, “Oh you just need to relax!” and, “Stop trying and it will just happen”. It drove me nuts even though I knew people were just trying to be nice.

The hardest parts of being a mother: The hardest part of being a mum has to be accepting that I have limitations and I don’t always have the answers or solutions to every problem.

Finding (and sharing) the time and energy for the people I love is also tricky. With my first baby I think my husband and I forgot to give each other enough attention, and that made it hard to get on when we were both tired and grumpy. 

The best parts of being a mother: The best parts of being a mother has to be being able to witness this creature that you have made turn into a little person with a very big personality.

The laughter and joy in simple and unexpected things is wonderful, for example, the relief in seeing a great big poo erupt from your baby when he has been constipated for days are joyful!

Hopes for your family: My hopes for my family are that we will remain close. I come from a large family of half brothers and half sisters, but none of us are particularly close. I would love for Willow and Wilbur to be there for each other when they grow up.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Have realistic expectations! Child birth and babies are unpredictable things and trying to have control over every aspect of it can really backfire. 

I listened to a hypnobirth CD about giving birth naturally after a c-section for a few weeks before I had my second child; I found it really helped to relax me and give me a positive outlook on having another baby. My other bit of advice would be not to worry if you don’t immediately feel gushy and maternal, it doesn’t mean you won’t love your child or give it a great start in life.

Additional comments:

Miscarriage affects 1 in 4 pregnancies, and that is a lot of women. I found the silence surrounding being pregnant for the first 12 weeks and pregnancy loss very isolating. The Miscarriage Association website is full of information and Tommy’s do fantastic work and have a midwife available to talk to.

http://www.tommys.org/

http://www.miscarriageassociation.org.uk/

Carolyn and Charlie

Name: Carolyn 

Child: Charlie, 8 months
Location: Manchester

Expectations of Motherhood: I didn't really know what to expect from motherhood as it's not something you can imagine. I was so absorbed in feeling ill and hormonal when I was pregnant it was hard to remember there was a baby in there at times. I was actually really surprised when they plopped the baby on my stomach after giving birth because I just couldn’t get my head round the fact he was really in there.

I'd wanted a baby for a long time but we waited until it was the right time for us in terms of work/ money etc. I didn't think too much abut my expectations, I just knew I'd always wanted a family.

Reality of Motherhood: The shock of it all hit me quite hard. After one night in labour, another night actually having Charlie and then another night in hospital with babies screaming all night, I was exhausted from the beginning. I also lost a lot of blood and was really anaemic and dizzy. Charlie and I also found breastfeeding really difficult, which I had not prepared for at all.

I felt a bit jealous that my husband bonded with Charlie instantly, because I didn’t enjoy much of the first few weeks because it was so difficult to get him breastfeeding. I’m really proud of their relationship now though, although I’m still a teeny bit jealous of how much he loves his daddy!

My mum came over to help the day after we got home from hospital and didn't leave for a week!

I struggled on with the breastfeeding for three months but once I'd got Charlie bottle feeding and my husband could help out at night times, it was a massive relief.

Now Charlie is eight months old he's just an adorably happy bundle of cuteness and motherhood is amazing. Before I had a baby, I knew that you'd love your baby unconditionally - but I didn't prepare for the 'cute factor'. That you could just think something was just the most adorable thing and every single thing they do is ridiculously cute. 

Taking your child home for the first time: In true disorganised fashion, we hadn't practised using the car seat, so were completely baffled at how to loosen the straps enough to get Charlie in there. Luckily the chap with the women opposite me in hospital had practised thoroughly and offered to help us. I must add that Halfords had taught us how to strap the seat into the car properly though! 

We didn't have much time to dwell on the enormity of the situation when we arrived home as both our families descended on us and then my best friends arrived so we had a lovely day. 

The best/worst advice: I repeatedly badgered my friends with kids on how they dealt with things, which was possibly a bit annoying for them but very useful for me. I also read books incessantly, which really helped. I liked to read books on every style of parenting and then make up my own mind.

We ended up doing the Gina Ford routine, which I really liked because it meant if anyone else looked after Charlie they didn’t need to figure out when to feed him or when he needed to sleep. I don’t really understand the criticism of the routine really – if it doesn’t suit you or your baby then just don’t do it!

Completely ignore advice that you don’t feel is right. As the mum, you always know best.

I suppose the best advice is something that everyone says, which is enjoy and remember every moment because the first year goes (or is going!) so fast.

The hardest parts of being a mother: Obviously the lack of sleep at the beginning is the hardest thing ever and the relentless feeding, burping and changing cycle is just never-ending. But now I don't feel there's anything which is hard - apart from letting the grandparents have him because I miss him too much!

The best parts of being a mother: Just having a little buddy with you all the time is great fun. Charlie really makes you work hard for a laugh, so when he does giggle you really feel special. I also love seeing him change and develop every week.

Hopes for your family: That he continues to be a happy and bubbly little person and enjoys life.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Just go with the flow and the hardest part won't last that long. Try to enjoy them when they're tiny because in a few months it will be hard to imagine anything that tiny again!

Don’t stress too much about breastfeeding, whether they’re sleeping enough, or anything else. Every baby is so different and we can only do our best.

If you don’t want visitors, just tell people that. We banned visitors for a couple of weeks because we were just so exhausted, the thought of making someone a cup of tea AND then washing it up was too much.

Carolyn Hughes is a freelance PR and copywriter in Manchester. She also writes the blog Manchester Is Ace and has just launched Little Dudes, a blog about things to do with babies, toddles and kids in Manchester.