Emily and Tristan

Name: Emily

Child: Tristan, 9 months

Location: Prestwich, Manchester

Expectations of Motherhood: I was a huge bundle of anxiety throughout my pregnancy. I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome when I was 17 and told I wouldn't be able to have children without fertility treatment. That turned out to not be true but because I'd lived with the knowledge of my condition for so long, I felt like I'd cheated somehow getting pregnant with relative ease and that at any moment I was going to get found out and it would all go wrong. I don't know at what point I allowed myself to believe it was real.

Reality of Motherhood: Motherhood is terrifying and exhilarating and exhausting. It's at once the hardest and the best thing I've ever done. Seeing Tristan's personality emerge is wonderful – he's inquisitive and affectionate (and occasionally a stubborn little drama queen) and I love getting to know him.

Taking your child home for the first time: Walking through the front door with Tristan in my arms was an overwhelming relief. He arrived three weeks early and I had to have an emergency c-section because he was breech. He had fluid on his lungs when he came out so he was taken to the newborn intensive care unit for CPAP treatment. I'd tried to prepare myself for all the eventualities of childbirth but watching my tiny baby be wheeled away in an incubator at two hours old was not one of the scenarios I'd imagined. I spent the next three days being wheeled down to the NICU ward every three hours to breastfeed him while in between I was pumped full of antibiotics to try and get rid of the infection I'd contracted as a result of the surgery. Lying in my solitary hospital bed, unable to move because of the pain from where I'd been cut open, listening to the swish of the IV pump and the faint cries of the babies in the ward next door, I had never felt more alone. But on day four we were given the all clear and allowed to go home. We discovered on that first night that Tristan hated sleeping on his own so my husband and I slept in shifts (and continued to do so for the next seven weeks) but however hard it was, it was overshadowed by the sheer relief of finally having him home.

The best/worst advice: The best was to get a tumble dryer. I wasn't convinced it was necessary but my dad bought us one as a gift so of course I wasn't going to say no. I had no idea what a lifesaver it would be! Thank you, Dad!

I believe all advice is offered with good intentions but I can't stand anything ending in the phrase, “You'll make a rod for your own back.” It's such rubbish. Having a baby is hard enough, why make it harder for yourself by abandoning something that works?

The hardest parts of being a mother: For me it's the lack of sleep. If I can get Tristan to stay in his cot for a four hour stretch it's a huge victory. I haven't had a proper night's sleep in nearly ten months and I am bone tired all the time. At the moment I take the opportunity to nap with Tristan during the day but I'm a bit scared how I'm going to manage once I go back to work.

The best parts of being a mother: It's a cliché but the love you have for your child is incredible. It's beautiful and raw and makes you more vulnerable than you have ever been before. I am in awe of Tristan every day; this perfect, tiny person that I made. Sometimes have to remind myself that there are seven billion people on the planet so making another one isn't really that impressive but then I'll watch Tristan master some new skill and I'll be amazed by him all over again.

Has becoming a mother changed you? In many ways I think I'm a better version of myself now – I'm more patient than I thought I could be, I have more empathy and I'm less selfish. The hard part is not losing myself in the role of 'Mummy'. I'm still me. I have this extra thing about me now which is wonderful but I still have the same hopes and ambitions and thoughts and passions that I had before. They're buried a little deeper now because Tristan has become my priority. I started my blog, The Useless Mother's Cookbook (uselesscookbook.wordpress.com), not just to learn how to cook but to give myself something to think about that's not focused on how much Tristan sleeps.

Hopes for your (growing) family: I hope we all stay healthy. I hope we keep loving each other. I hope we can help Tristan fulfill his potential and I hope we can give him a sibling one day.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums? I'm still less than a year into this so I don't feel qualified to give too much advice so I'll just say this: be nice to yourself. You don't have to pretend you have a perfect Instagram-ready life. It's okay to admit that this is hard and you should be damned proud of yourself for getting through it!

Becky, Leila and Asher

Name: Becky

Children: Leila, 3 and Asher, 9 months

Location: Manchester

Expectations of Motherhood: When I was pregnant with Leila, I had only the vaguest of expectations, as motherhood was such alien territory. None of my friends had children at that point, so I had no 'blueprint' of what to do/not do or how it would be. I did expect to love my baby intensely and for her to bring huge joy to my life. I adored being pregnant - it was a dreamy, indulgent time and I loved my bump. But towards the end I started to worry that I wouldn't love the baby after all, and I had deep, secret fears about whether I would be a good mother - not of the 'what if my organic purees are not quite the right consistency for baby's delicate digestion?' variety; more like, 'what if I am capital B Bad, like shouldn't have children at all Bad'. These fears haunted me through the last weeks of pregnancy, as I waddled to my due date and beyond, virtually housebound by the big freeze that took hold that winter.

Reality of Motherhood: Thank goodness, when she arrived Leila swept away my fears in an instant. I will always be grateful to her for that. The moment she appeared, pink and bendy and cross, my first words were gasped with amazement and relief: 'oh I DO love you, I do love you, I love you'. She totally delivered on the intense love/huge joy front. However, those first weeks were a massive shock. Not in the sense that I wasn't expecting it to be hard work - veteran parents are determined during your first pregnancy to drum into you that It Will Be Hard. But the reality of round-the-clock breastfeeding (three hours from the start of the first feed to the start of the next- the START! And the feed takes 90 minutes!), the grizzly newborn nights, and the mystery of what could possibly be wrong with the baby when she cried, proved to be very tough. More than that, the sheer weight of emotion I felt knocked me sideways and upside down. I remember one evening, listening to a CD of gentle 'baby music' a friend had made, holding Leila in front of me and just bawling onto her fat sleeping face.

When Asher came along almost three years later, the newborn phase felt like a breeze by comparison. The culture shock had already taken place, I suppose. This was charted territory now. I just revelled in his newborn squishiness and crazy ways. I wished I could go back and experience the first time again, with the hindsight of the second time, the knowledge that the madness will not last forever, and also, woman: nothing will happen to the baby if you leave it sleeping in the basket in the corner while you have a nap, drink a cup of tea or go to the loo.

Taking your children home for the first time: My labour with Leila was long, slow and slightly complicated, in the way it seems many first labours are: I was induced, had to have a syntocin drip to speed things up, lost some blood and went to theatre because of a retained placenta. I stayed in hospital for a couple of nights. By the time we were able to take her home, I felt, physically and emotionally, like I'd been hit by a train. We did the typical anxious, slow drive home, all the while feeling like we were bound to be pulled over by the Baby Police, as clearly we were not grown up enough to be left in charge of an actual human being.



The first few days were a blur. I was exhausted beyond anything I'd known before, anaemic and spaced out. Sometimes I didn't know if I was awake or asleep; I couldn't concentrate on the television, let alone a magazine or a book. I felt like a zombie, and was in bed for several days.

When Asher was born, the experience was totally different. The labour was 4.5 hours from start to finish, and he was born quickly and smoothly in the birthing pool. It was, strange as it sounds, the best experience of my life. The three of us chilled out in the birth centre for a few hours, I scoffed a family bag of jelly babies, and we were home before 5pm. I felt on top of the world, full of energy even, and ate fish and chips with the family before heading to bed for the first of many, many nights of madness.

Of course, the main difference bringing Asher home was that there was an older sibling there to meet him. Leila cradled his head in her tiny toddler's hands and smiled a pleased smile. 'Isn't he wonderful' she said. As time went on she would swing between this sentiment, fierce, slightly aggressive love, and irritation with her little brother ('I want him OFF your nipple' she said a few days later, swiping his head backwards with her hand).

The best advice: I bumped into a male colleague at the shops when I was heavily pregnant with Leila. He has a particular straightforward, deadpan way of talking. No beating around the bush. He said to me, without drama, as I glowed with excitement and optimism: 'It'll be like a bomb's gone off, love. It's brilliant. But it's like a bloody bomb's gone off'. Not so much advice, more a simple truth which I have found oddly comforting since.

The worst: Enjoy every minute. What, every minute? Every single one? Even the ones with the crying (mine) and the screaming (theirs) and the 3am whining? That's just setting yourself up for feeling like a failure.



The hardest parts of being a mother: There are plenty of parts I find hard! It can feel like you crash from one transition to the next; just when you get the hang of one phase (weaning, potty training, tantrums), another kicks in. When you have two, the logistics of managing the very different demands that each age and child presents are pretty mind-boggling. Meanwhile each new phase is so consuming that every bump in the road feels like the hardest phase you've been through. So right now, managing the behaviour of a 3 year old coupled with the physical demands of a 9 month old, feels like the hardest thing. But I'm well aware that in years to come I'll look back on these as the glory days which, really, they are. The time before life got complicated.

Toddlers are their own special brand of challenging. Hilarious, captivating, psychotic and adorable. With Leila I have found Three more demanding than Two. It can be so hard to keep my cool at times, as she pushes with all her might against every boundary. And I am so desperate to be the calm, consistent parent I think she deserves, that the effort of disciplining in the 'right' way is exhausting.

By comparison, babies can seem like a doddle. That is, until they try to finish you with the not sleeping. Asher is and has been a very easy baby on many fronts, but not when it comes to sleep. At the height of his reign of terror (between 3-6 months) I really felt at times like sleep deprivation would break me. Some nights still drive me to tears. I read threads on Mumsnet from mothers perplexed that their four month old has 'stopped' sleeping through. They've what now? STOPPED? My 9 month old never started.

The best parts of being a mother: Basically, everything apart from the hard parts is the best part.

Seeing their personalities develop is the best. I love that Leila is so different from me (fiery, loud, outgoing, a performer) yet we get on so well. She is genuinely hilarious, and not just because she does funny little-kid things like stopping in front of the mini bottles of wine in Asda and saying 'mummy! Lots of special wine for children!'. And even at nine months old, I can already see that Asher is totally different from Leila (cuddly, chilled, an explorer). Seeing them together, laughing like loons at one another, is the best. Being a family is the best. 

Holding, cuddling and stroking them is the best. There must be some mummy-catnip in those babies. I wonder if one day they'll ban me from fiddling with their hair, running my fingers up the nobbles of their spines, squeezing their cheeks between my thumb and forefinger, and curling them back up into a foetal position to crush them gently in my lap. Maybe they'll still let me do it when their work friends aren't in the room.

Every day, a handful of moments are the best, happiest moments you've ever experienced. A friend who was in throes of new motherhood emailed just after Leila was born, and said 'even the hardest days have their magic moments', and that is the wonder of having kids. Though one moment I can be driven to tears of frustration, the next I'm sitting there thinking 'yes. This is it'. The happiness can just surge up through my body and threaten to burst out of my throat at any given moment. 

Has becoming a mother changed you? I'm somebody whose mind is rarely at rest. I'm forever mulling over the past or fretting about the future. Having Leila and Asher, I can be completely in the moment. And I'm more at ease. I know that if I never achieve anything else in my life - and I do intend and fervently hope to achieve other things - I have had them, and that is enough. There's a peace about that.

Also, the body-surging happiness I described above is something I thought I wouldn't experience again when my youngest sister died, several years before Leila was born. Having the children opened my heart to the possibility, and the reality, of utter joy.

Hopes for your family: I want them to be safe, happy and well. That's what it boils down to. It seems so little, yet so much, to ask.

I hope that they (and any future sibling/s) gain as much from each other as I have from my brother and two sisters, and form as close a bond.

I don't expect them to never experience sadness, but I hope they never experience traumatic loss. 

I hope they love and are loved. The right sort of love.

I hope they like their parents as they get older. And that they outlive us.

I hope we have another child. I'm not done, as I told my partner (somewhat alarmingly, I imagine) minutes after Asher was born.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Don't be smug. You may have the magical sleeping baby, the perfect eater, the most well-adjusted sweet-natured sociable kid there is. But if you are smug about it, it WILL bite you on the bum. If not next week, then next year or when the child is a teenager, or when you have your second child. (Or at least, you can be smug - all parents are - but don't do it out loud).

Understand that babies' sleep does not progress in a linear fashion. If your baby sleeps through at 8 weeks (as Leila did), don't be disheartened when her/his sleep goes haywire later on. This will continue through at least the first year. But equally, if your baby still hasn't slept through by nine months (Asher....), know that one day, he/she - and you - will get a full night's sleep. I least I hope we will. WON'T WE? Also remember that the baby books which tell you that 'most babies' sleep through at two months, or that yours 'should' be, wouldn't be bestsellers if this was actually true.

Make 'mum friends' (and/or dad friends, of course). I found playgrounds excruciating for many months, and found the idea of approaching other parents frankly horrifying, but once I bit the bullet and started talking to people, I made friends who have been a great support and, more importantly, a good laugh. It's invaluable to spend time with people who are in the same magic, manic, sick-sodden boat. I have discovered, too, that most people feel the same - i.e. that they are a socially inept, repellant buffoon, and that all the other mums are confident and popular. 

Enjoy every minute. Ha.

Laura and Florence

Name: Laura

Child: Florence (9 months)

Location: Levenshulme

Expectations of Motherhood: Being the oldest of three children, and having a mother who was a childminder when I was young gave me fairly realistic expectations. Quite a few of our friends had babies in the year or so prior to us, particularly our best friends, so we had experienced their joys and frustrations second-hand.

In terms of getting pregnant, I was really disappointed that it didn’t happen straight away. I come from what seems like an ultra-fertile family – my relatives pop out babies left, right and centre with very little difficulty so I had always assumed that I would be the same. The months ticked by until I found myself at the doctor’s, having been trying for a year without success. I was referred to the hospital and after various tests they discovered I had PCOS.

At this point, I realised I had been putting my life on hold – I was stuck in a job with a bullying boss, producing photographic work with no real focus, with dreams of doing something to inspire me – so I got a new job and a place on an MA course. Starting a new job coincided with taking fertility drugs – my poor boss must have wondered what sort of madwoman he had employed. And within three months, I was pregnant. Having to break that news three months into a new job was a little embarrassing, but as we’d waited two years by that point, we were ecstatic. 

I was slightly apprehensive about maternity leave as I have always been very focused on my career as a photography teacher and enjoy being independent and socially active. I was photographing abandoned buildings for my MA project, we ate out and went to gigs all the time – I couldn’t see how any of that was going to be compatible with motherhood…

Reality of Motherhood: Turns out none of it was, but I don’t care now we’ve got Florence!

Motherhood is amazing. It is joyful, it is magical, it is wonderful. And it is bloody relentless. I don’t think I had longer than an hour to myself in the first four or five months. There are days when I practically throw Florence at Ewan as he walks through the door, and there have been days where I have just sat and cried with her, but as I have been told so many times, it gets easier. Those days are few and far between now, as Florence and I have grown into each other’s rhythms – I know when she is likely to get grumpy and how to prevent (or to get through) it. But it is rare – she is a lot of fun to be with. I can’t think of a person I would rather hang out with. And certainly no-one else with whom I would willingly spend 24 hours a day.
The reality is strange though – just last week I thought, “I’m a married mother of one” and it seemed like somebody far away from me; somebody older and wiser.

Taking your child home for the first time: I couldn’t wait to get out of the hospital. The birth was quite quick (so I’m told – 11 hours didn’t feel that quick to me, but what would I know?) but I lost a lot of blood at the end, so I had to stay in overnight. I wasn’t expecting that, and after a hot, sleepless night with a shellshocked newborn baby, and two meconium-filled nappies to deal with when I could barely stand up, I just wanted to get home. I hassled the midwives (apologies) and even spent the final hour sweltering in my coat as some sort of pointless protest. When they finally let us go, I felt like the first woman in the world to take her baby home from a hospital. Walking gingerly along, carrying this tiny bundle, I was so proud when people stopped to look and ask about her – I thought we were so special, but people are just interested in tiny babies I now realise! 

Both sets of parents had turned up at the hospital within a couple of hours of Florence being born, so my parents set off first to put the kettle on (a brew solving all of life’s problems) whilst we carefully buckled Florence into the car and spent the five minute journey home on full alert for signs of reckless driving (everywhere).

We got home, and all six of us just looked at her in the carseat. Shit!

The best/worst advice: It’s been said many times on here, but being told to wake your child up to feed them is just beyond comprehension. Here you are, an exhausted new mother with no idea what’s going on and a midwife tells you (as she did me) to blow in their face to keep them awake, to strip them naked and wipe a cool flannel on their body. I cannot believe that I even attempted this (never the cold flannel – the midwife did that at the hospital and I was horrified) but I was told that if I didn’t feed Florence every two hours that she would sleep through the hunger signs and become too weak to wake up, and essentially die. As if I wasn’t worried enough! With the next one, I will definitely leave them to sleep. Oh how I will leave them to sleep!

Another piece of terrible advice – sleep when the baby sleeps. I don’t understand when you are meant to wash, put a wash on, clean up, cook etc if you are always asleep at the same time as your baby. How would anything get done? And I am lucky enough to have a hardworking husband and loads of really supportive family and friends nearby. I shared some naps during a few weeks of a brutal growth spurt, and the house looked practically derelict. We ate a lot of beans on toast (when we’d remembered to buy bread – sometimes just beans).

The best advice has been to do things my own way and ignore all other advice! I feel lucky that I have been brought up to be very confident in my abilities and I resolutely refused to read any books during pregnancy. I am not doing things the way the midwives and health visitors suggest (co-sleeping, breastfeeding on demand, baby-led weaning etc), but do you know what? I have a really happy and healthy little girl who loves life so I must be doing something right. 



I understand that not everyone will feel confident enough to forge ahead blindly, and that seeking advice can be really helpful but I think one needs to be aware of over-seeking. You can find evidence to support whichever path you choose to take, and worrying about the smallest details won’t have any real bearing on the way your child grows up. We are all brought up differently but on the whole, most people are pretty decent human beings.

The hardest parts of being a mother: The absolute relentlessness. Feeling a bit tired? Cranky? Headache, sore throat, cold, backache, unable to go to the toilet because of stitches? Tough. Get up, get on, do it. Your baby has no concept of you as a separate being – you are simply there to nourish them. It changes and evolves as they get older, but it hasn’t let up yet! The initial newborn helplessness segues nicely into separation anxiety and now Florence is developing mobility with alarming speed – if I so much as look the other way she manages to crawl to something dangerous, grab the cat or otherwise cause mischief.

The failure to protect your child is something that I can only imagine increases as they become more independent. Whenever Florence falls over or is in pain, I feel like I have failed as a mother. When she gets older and has her heart broken, or gets teased at school for something, or is influenced by insidious advertising I will fail over and over. All I can do is my best, but it won’t always be good enough. 

The best parts of being a mother: Seeing your baby for the first time. I couldn’t believe that this amazingly perfect little thing was mine. It took about six months to stop wondering when the knock on the door would come to take her back – I was sure we were only allowed Florence due to some administrative error.

Making her smile and laugh. Florence was an early smiler, at around two weeks, but didn’t give up laughs easily. She was easily amused, but didn’t give a real belly laugh until????? Now we know how to get a giggle from her, but it’s also exciting discovering new ways. 



Seeing Florence interact with others. She is a sociable little thing and particularly loves other babies and children. Because she is so smiley, people react to that so she does get a lot of attention when we’re out – it’s great because I’m quite outgoing but people think you’re a bit odd if you just strike up conversation with them – a baby is a great excuse. I’ve met so many people through having Florence and had so many positive experiences just chatting to strangers when out and about.

Each new experience with her is amazing too – every time she does something new, I become extraordinarily excited. Just seeing positive (and sometimes negative) elements of yourself and your partner emerging in this tiny being is interesting beyond belief – genetics is infinitely fascinating to the people involved!

Has becoming a mother changed you? It has made me more tolerant of others – I used to get really annoyed about small things, like bad driving or someone being grumpy but now I try to put myself in their shoes more. They may have been up all night with a screaming baby; they might be experiencing any number of difficulties. Or they might just be an idiot. But I can’t know one way or another and I would want to be given the benefit of the doubt, so I must do the same for others. 

But in other ways I am less tolerant – less tolerant of selfishness - people parking on the pavement so that I can’t get past with the pushchair (or even the sling sometimes!) makes me furious. Loud swearing in public really annoys me. Probably all the things I did before I had Florence.

It has made me a bit softer, I think (and not just physically). I was probably a bit more cynical before. It has made me wonder at the world again – if Florence finds a tiny piece of foil fascinating, then perhaps it is. Maybe I need to look again.

What I was worried about prior to birth and what I have been really pleased to discover though, was that motherhood hasn’t changed me – it has added to my experience and personality but I am still essentially Laura.

Hopes for your family: I hope that we treat each other (and those around us) with kindness and respect. I hope that we can all be patient with each other.

I hope that we can provide siblings for Florence; we are both one of three siblings and would love to recreate the childhoods we both had, and the bonds we have with our siblings. I hope that our children love each other and like each other.

I hope I’m one of the cool mums when Florence goes to school…

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums? I know it’s been said before, but trust your instincts – you grew your child for nine months, and spend all your time with them, so who else would know better than you? Be confident enough to make your own decisions. However, seek help if you need it. There is no need to be embarrassed if you are unsure – most of the time, the answer you find will only confirm what you thought anyway, but it might help to find that others agree. 

On a practical level: stock up the freezer with meals that are easy to chuck in the microwave; accept all offers of help; let visitors get their own drinks and be firm about how long they stay.

Above all, don’t worry if you don’t feel like a ‘natural’ mother straight away. This is the biggest change you could ever make in your life – why on earth should you know exactly what you’re doing? It took me at least three months to get the hang of breastfeeding, and even now I don’t think I’ve ever managed to leave the house with everything I need in the nappy bag.

And, enjoy it.

Jane, Sophie and Harry

Name: Jane Lee 

Children: Sophie, 2 and Harry, 9 months 

Location: Didsbury

Expectations of Motherhood: It was a fairly long journey to motherhood for me. I had longed for children since the latter half of my twenties and then, sadly, the long term relationship that I was in floundered. I had to wait to meet the right person to marry and have children with. This happened in my early thirties and we started trying for a baby straight away. However, we had to face a couple of miscarriages before successfully conceiving our daughter. Based on the strong bond that I had with my own wonderful mother, I expected motherhood to be the most amazing thing and couldn’t wait for the experience of getting to know my baby and all the fun things we would do and the love that I knew I would have for that much wanted child. Sophie’s second name is ‘Arabella’ which means ‘much prayed for’ - and she was.

Reality of Motherhood: The birth of my first daughter was a fairly traumatic experience resulting in an emergency C-Section in which I lost rather a lot of blood. The first couple of days of being in hospital were therefore spent in a slight haze of Morphine. 

I will never forget the first night that we were together and lying awake while she slept, just staring at her and loving her with such a powerful all encompassing love and feeling so intensely happy (I am sure that this was not just the morphine!). Those feelings have not gone away and are the cornerstone of how I feel about both of my children. 

The main reality of motherhood for me is that it is a dream come true. There is nothing more amazing for me than to watch my children develop and grow, and a single smile or moment of fun instantly makes up for the constant tiredness that has become a way of life for me now. The reality is ALSO that it is hard and it is relentless – waking in the night continuously to feed, change, comfort and then to spend the day feeding, changing, playing, stimulating, and cleaning up after the children. It is physically demanding and mentally draining – but it is ALL worth it.

Taking your children home for the first time: Having been in hospital for over a week with Sophie we felt fairly institutionalised by the end of our stay. It was very strange to see normal people walking along the street while we drove (very slowly) home with our new little bundle in the back. I felt like I should be shouting out of the window – ‘look I have had my baby – isn’t it amazing’. Getting home was a lovely time – we had family there and we put the baby in her carrycot and generally just enjoyed what felt like a massive achievement. The physical pain of having an emergency C-Section with each child marred the joy a bit and meant that we needed family to stay and help so we weren’t on our own for at least a couple of weeks in each case. I think that this eased us in gently and I am grateful for that. 

The best/worst advice: The best advice for me was to sleep while the baby sleeps and this is what I did. I have always been a cat napper, and the moment the baby went off I would curl on the sofa with my red blanket and sleep until crying woke me. These power naps really helped me to get through the day. Another amazing piece of advice was a friend who said, ‘Be kind to one another’ – parenthood can bring out such strong emotions in you, particularly if you are stubborn and opinionated, as are myself and my husband, so sometimes you have to take a step back and just be kind. 

I can’t think of any bad advice really – but each baby is different and you have to get to know what works for your baby and trust your own instincts as a mother.

The hardest parts of being a mother: For me the hardest part is dealing with the anxiety that I experience daily with regard to each of my children and the responsibility of them. 

I have always been a worrier but my levels of anxiety over the last two years have really peaked. My imagination runs riot with things that could happen and in hindsight I think that my traumatic birth experiences may have not helped this. The way that I am learning to deal with this is to take each day at a time and concentrate on the moment – and to enjoy the moment for what it is. 

Another difficult part has been accepting that I have to put my own life and aspirations on hold for the moment and concentrate on ‘growing and nurturing’ my children. I was made redundant whilst on maternity leave with Harry and whilst it is a relief not to have that particular job any more I have been placed in a dilemma, as the industry that I was in (law) does not generally practice child friendly hours and I am reluctant to go back to full time work whilst my children are so young. Because of this I have had to accept that, for now, I am a full time mum and am trying to learn that I don’t need to qualify this every time I am asked what I do by stating what I used to do as a job. It’s a humbling experience, but I am getting there!

The best parts of being a mother: Where do I start? The smiles, the laughter, the feeling that now we are a real family, the love that grows stronger every day. I love that I am starting to forge a relationship with my daughter and she tells me things and we laugh together. I love watching my husband being an amazing dad and the care and love that he showers on our children.

Has becoming a mother changed you? Absolutely. It has made me less selfish and much less inclined to care about what other people think of me as I simply don’t have the time for it. My children are my world now – not my job or myself. 

Hopes for your family: My hope is that my children will grow to be confident (unlike me who has always suffered with a lack of confidence) and will feel loved and supported throughout their lives. I hope that we will retain our sense of laughter and fun as a family and always love each other and be there for each other and have adventures together.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums? Join an NCT group – I have found such support and friendship in mine and wouldn’t be without it for the world. Also, try and take pleasure in all the little things that everyday brings – the smiles, the cuddles and the love. They far out way the general knackeredness and the state that your body gets into after having a child!

Lynda and Joe

Name: Lynda Kendall 

Child: Joe, 9 months

Location: Manchester

Expectations of Motherhood: I’m not sure I had many expectations of motherhood as such. I knew it was supposed to be hard being a mum and that I would always worry about my child. I knew it would be tiring and I knew I wanted for the baby to be born so I could sleep on my tummy again and stop itching. I hadn’t really given much thought to anything past the birth. All the antenatal course talks about is pain relief and breathing, so thats all I thought about. In blissful ignorance I booked tickets for a load of events in early July thinking by the time the baby was about 4 weeks, I would be sorted. Needless to say I attended none of these events.

Reality of Motherhood: I never understood the idea of relaxing before the birth, its not like you can ‘bank’ sleep and then use it as a voucher system when you need some more, but I didn’t realise how much labour – and indeed my 3-day-from-start-to-finish labour extravaganza – would sap any reserves you might have stored. I feel like I started on a back foot having such a long labour, and so the initial hormone-laiden, sleep-deficient, emotional first few weeks hit me like a sledgehammer.

I remember wandering round town in the blazing sunshine, pushing the pram and crying under my sunglasses with sheer exhaustion. It seems silly to think now, that 9 months ago, I would dread my husband leaving for work and leaving me with Joe, and that the first few weeks I literally took one day at a time, getting through it till he came home to help. Its not that I didn’t love Joe, its just that I didn’t know him. The routine of feed, sleep, nappy change was so relentless, through my bleary, dry eyes it looked like my life had come to a full stop. Three weeks on (having met up with my mum friends) and I was breastfeeding in the middle of the pub without a care in the world. As the months have passed and Joe has grown into his own little person, my love for him has grown to the point where I can’t bear the thought of him going to nursery and not hanging out with him everyday, So in reality, motherhood has been twice as hard and a million times more rewarding than I ever imagined and I absolutely love it.

Taking your child home for the first time: I couldn’t wait to get out of hospital, mainly because I couldn’t stand another prepacked strawberry trifle, but also because I wanted to have my family all together at home. I’d been kept in the hospital for an extra couple of days as I was having trouble breastfeeding, but I was terrified once I got home that Joe was going to starve. I wouldn’t go home till I had a back up plan, so I made Matt take a detour to Mothercare on the way home to pick up some emergency formula. I ran in, grabbed some formula, bought an entertaining bear babygrow and hat with ears set and legged it back to the car, where Matt was sat staring at our brand new baby in the rear view mirror. He drove home like he was carrying a car full of loose eggs. He said It was the most stressful drive of his life and I believe him. When we got home, we put the car seat in front of the settee, sat down and said ‘what happens now?’.

The best/worst advice:
The best emotional advice I got was just after Joe was born and was along the lines of, ‘Yes it can be pretty awful at first but it gets loads easier’. It kept me going through a tough few weeks. It wasn’t advice, but a couple of friends just bought round my lunch and held Joe whilst I ate it. Amazing.

The worst advice I had was to make loads of stuff for the freezer. Not having a microwave meant that we would have to wait 30 minutes for the food to cook in the oven anyway (and thats if we remembered to take it out of the freezer) – by then anything could have happened – most likely he’d woken up and was feeding again. So for a few weeks nearly all food was eaten cold, whether it started off that way or not. 

The hardest parts of being a mother: Here’s the top 3 off the top of my (weary) head: 

Lack of sleep: At best renders you incapable of mental arithmetic, at worst turns you into some kind of Mumzilla. I don’t think I’ve ever needed coffee in the morning so much in my life. And there’s no catching up with sleep, once its gone, its gone forever because they don’t lie in just because you need one! 

Breastfeeding: I breastfed for 8 months and had periods of really struggling with it. I found it very rewarding watching Joe stack on the weight solely from what I had provided him with, and soul-destroying when he was hungry again after an hour. I had a love/hate relationship with it, it was convenient, cheap and I felt it was best for him. It was also at times painful, tiring and I was tied to him as he wouldn’t take a bottle. I opted to carry on despite having issues which leads me onto...

Always feeling guilty: Should I move him to formula? Is he having fun? Have I stayed out the house too long having a coffee with friends? Do I read him enough stories? Do I take him to enough activities? Do I take him to too many activities? Did he get that cold from that half-hour he didn’t have socks on? Will he think I’ve abandoned him when he goes to nursery? And so on, forever.

The best parts of being a mother: Unlike most things where you get out equal to what you put in, motherhood rewards you in buckets for every dirty nappy you change.

I’ve learned loads of stuff. I know when he’s doing an attention cough. I know when crying because he’s tired as opposed to hungry. I know he’s not hungry, but wants milk because he’s tired. I know loads of stuff about him. I’m an expert on him. I could win Mastermind if he was my chosen subject. No one has taught be this stuff, I’ve not read it, or had it implanted in a chip in my head. I’ve learnt it from my baby boy. He’s taught me.

It makes me feel more proud than I have of anything else in my life, and every time he does something clever, cute or new, I can physically feel myself swelling with pride. I don’t think there is a day when he doesn’t literally fill my heart with joy.

Hopes for your family: That Joe will always feel safe, loved and happy and has the foundations to make sensible decisions is his life. That he has good manners and treats people well. That he grows up to be the kind of boy you would bring home to your mother. That he listens to all advice, but only follows the good. And that he will still visit his folks when he leaves home.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: My best advice would be to not put any pressure on yourself to be a Supermum in the first few weeks. Don’t expect to be being clean and showered, or that you will get any housework done, or that you’ll do much more than feeding, changing nappies and rocking to sleep. If you're lucky your baby will sleep somewhere other than you, but somedays I wouldn’t put Joe down until bedtime. Once you have accepted that you are dirty, exhausted and the house is a tip – enjoy it! As hard as it is, and it is hard, remember that in a few months, you’ll have to chase them round the house for a cuddle. They weren’t joking when they said ‘they grow up so fast’.

On a practical level invest in a sling, so you can carry them around whilst you do things like make a sandwich, get loads of dvds to work your way through whilst you are trapped on the settee and as soon as is humanly possible meet up with your new mum network. You can guarantee they will all be unwashed, knackered and escaping a messy house too…

Oh, and don’t buy a top and tail bowl.

Vivienne and Ed

 Name: Vivienne

Child: Ed, 9 months

Location: Cheshire

Expectations of motherhood: I had heard so much about how having a child changes your life.....the lack of sleep, the lack of social life.....and so I was expecting all of these things but I don t think I really understood just how much having a baby changes things until Ed was here. I was so excited to meet the baby that had been growing in my tummy all this time and I absolutely loved being pregnant, but actually I don't think I knew what to expect - all I knew was that I was excited.

Reality of motherhood: Motherhood has been all people told me and so much more! Beforehand it just didn't really sink in just how much hard work it really is - the complete and utter lack of sleep, having absolutely no time for yourself, how it changes your body(!) and how it feels to have this tiny and vulnerable person being so utterly dependent on you for their every need. And yet, for all the sleepless nights (and believe me they continue!) and the total lack of a social life for the first few months it has been totally worth it and the love you feel for your child is really and truly like no other. And you even get used to the sleepless nights after a while. After 9 months I am used to functioning on little sleep and once you get into a routine with your baby you are able to have a little time to yourself. Even if it's just 10 minutes to grab a cup of tea!

Taking your child home for the first time: It was a cold dark January night when we first brought Ed home. I couldn't wait to leave the hospital, having being there for nearly a week after a very traumatic birth (another story!) but when my partner and I got home with Ed still in his carseat, we looked at each other and said 'what do we do now'?! It was completely overwhelming having been in the protective surroundings of the hospital we were now on our own and we had no clue what to do!

That first night we did not sleep a wink and kept checking baby was still breathing, he wasn't too hot, he wasn't too cold......but we survived and the constant checking in the night has been a recurring theme since (I don t think this ever changes as my mom still checks on me at night when I go home for the weekends!)

The best/worst advice: The worst thing I could have done is the reading, reading and more reading and comparing of all the baby and parenting books. I also googled everything.
This was so bad for me as I constantly compared myself as a parent and my baby to others in these books/on the Internet and it can make you feel inadequate. So my advice would be don't read these books and instead speak to friends/family/other mums. The best advice then has come from other mums, an invaluable source of support and ideas and a godsend!

The hardest parts of being a mother: Some of the hardest parts have been the changes to my life, there are friends that you see less of and it is hard to keep in touch when you are 100% focused on your baby. It is difficult at the start to talk about anything other than babies as that is your life, so I have tried really hard not to talk about baby things all the time when I do see friends, although maybe they would say otherwise! The lack of sleep is hard but you do get used to this and I do spend less time on my appearance than I once did. Your priorities change but I don t think this is necessarily a bad thing.
And the worrying....I am the worlds worst worrier but now, having a baby, I worry even more!

The best parts of being a mother: The best bits far outweigh the bad bits, seeing Ed for the first time was amazing, and I couldn t stop looking at him at first, actually I still can't! The love you feel is truly overwhelming and it is true what they say about forgetting about the labour once you have your baby in your arms. Seeing him reach different milestones, crawling, playing, smiling. It really is amazing to think you have created this person and that you are the most important person in their life. It's quite scary really - maybe this should have gone in the hardest section too!

On a personal level I feel calmer, more patient and less likely to stress over little things unlike before. You become more accepting about how things are and realise what's important in life, although you also realise how short life really is and that also is quite scary!

Hopes for your family: All I really hope is that Ed grows to be a happy, healthy young boy and that he achieves all he wants to achieve.

I would like Ed to have a brother or sister in the future but we are incredibly lucky to have Ed and so if it happens it happens. Either way as long as my family are happy and healthy then that's all I can wish for.
What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: My advice would be don t panic! You will be fine and there is a lot of support out there if you feel you need it.
Do not read any of those parenting books. Do not google anything.
Try and get a routine going when you can, it's so much easier to work with a routine I think and, although baby does not always stick to this if you can have regular mealtimes, bath times and bedtimes it will make your life easier!
Join local mother and baby classes, these have been invaluable to me and the friends I have made at these I hope are friends for life! I was so not the type of person to go to these and definitely didn't t think I would enjoy them but going saved me in the early days when i was totally frazzled and didn't know whether I was coming or going......and there isn t a nursery rhyme out there that I do not know the words to now.

Maria and Luca

Name: Maria 

Child: Luca, 9 months

Location: Manchester

Expectations of Motherhood: I thought I would be a real 'Gina Ford' mother! Eg. Baby in his cot, in his own room on the first night at home! Breastfeeding on a routine. Letting the baby cry.

Reality of Motherhood: I don't think I put him down for the first month. I fell in love with him as soon as he was born. He seemed so grateful to be fed and cuddled. I was reluctant to let his dad hold him. I would feel jealous and empty if I wasn't holding him! I feel like I've always known him.

Taking your child home for the first time: I was desperate to take Luca home. We were kept in hospital for 5 days because he was jittery when he was born. They were injecting him with anti-biotics every 12 hours but couldn't give me a straight answer as to why. We were on a ward with 3 other new mothers and their babies screamed all night. I didn't sleep for the 5 days. I was so worried about Luca. By day 5 I was frantic for an explanation and we were discharged when they couldn't provide one. When we got home I was worried sick. I thought I had made the wrong decision but the jittering soon stopped and I began to feel more confident.

The best/worst advice: The best advice I received was from the midwife re breastfeeding. I had read the Gina Ford book and had my head filled with routines etc. The midwives advice was to feed on demand. Me and Luca were both much happier when I started to do this. So I suppose the worst advice was to try to put a breast fed baby into a 'routine'.

The hardest parts of being a mother: Tearing myself away from Luca and leaving him in the care of other people. I found it so hard to even leave him with his grandparents (and still do!). The worry never seems to go away. Now I am back at work and still breastfeeding, I find it a real struggle. I express milk whilst I am at work but it takes me nearly half an hour and that is all I get for lunch. I have to express in my classroom which locks but when kids are running past and banging on the door, it is nerve-wracking!

The best part of being a mother: Breastfeeding. I am so glad I tried it. Luca took to it straight away and we have become so close because of it. I think of us as our own little unit; it is so special between us. Another thing is the laughter and smiles. It is amazing. I love taking him places and showing him new things. I love dressing him up.

Hopes for your family: My only hope at the moment is that he stays healthy and lives a long and happy life. 

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums:

I would say read the Gina Ford books if you must but keep an open mind and don't feel that it's the only way! Breastfeed if you want to and stay strong when family members tell you your baby needs a bottle etc. Get involved with your local Sure Start (whilst you can) - even just voicing your concerns to other mothers can really reassure you. Explain to your partner that although you are not at work, you now have a new job which is much more important that the washing up! Enjoy every minute of your maternity leave because it goes by in a flash. And, DO NOT let any man talk you out of having an epidural if you want one. I did.

Having a baby is the single, most important, life-changing and happiest thing I have ever achieved in my life.