Olly and Genevieve

Name: Olly 

Child: Genevieve, 18 months

Location: Cheadle

Expectations of Motherhood: I don't think I had thought beyond pregnancy to be honest. We spent four years and four rounds of IVF trying to conceive so I think for such a longtime my focus was ~getting~ pregnant. I kind of hadn't thought about what would happen once I was pregnant and once the baby arrived. I guess I had a very romanticised idea of summer walks with a pram and a cute smiley baby but no substance behind it. I knew I leaned towards *crunchy mom* but it was all a bit distant and unreal to delve into until it was really happening. 

Reality of Motherhood: I've never been more exhausted or happier in my life. I'd heard about how sometimes you don't bond straight away and that it was ok and you love them as you get to know them. But that was not the case for me. As soon as I laid her against me I just adored her. 

With regards to my parenting style, I've stuck to my principles but I've also learned to go with the flow and to grow a hard skin. Everyone will have an opinion on everything you do. If you have done your own research and you are confident in your choice then smile and nod and ignore them. 

Taking your child home for the first time: My daughter was born at home (planned home birth). I have a very distinct memory of her first night after we all went to bed. She was laid on my left and my husband on my right and they were both snoring. It was lovely, but the novelty of that wore thin quickly.

The best/worst advice: Best advice was to hold her as much as I wanted and she wanted. Seriously, cuddle that baby. Inhale them and don't dare apologise for enjoying it. Worst advice was regarding early weaning in order to get more sleep. In fact, any advice about getting more sleep. What works for one baby won't work for them all and will just make you feel worse. 

The hardest parts of being a mother: The loneliness is tough. It is something I did not foresee. Also the stress and worry; you will never be of peaceful mind again.

On a practical level I have struggled with weaning and food issues. My girl isn't big and she's not a great eater. It played on my mind for a long time that she wasn't getting enough. Then a fantastic book called 'My Child Won't Eat' was recommended to me and it really helped my mindset. 

The best part/s of being a mother: How can I choose just one thing? The cuddles and snotty kisses. The wonder in her eyes when she sees things that she hasn't before. Watching her learn new things. Knowing that when she's sad she wants me and that makes it better. 

When I take her out anywhere we ~always~ get people stopping to say how happy and lovely she is. That makes me want to burst with pride. 

Has becoming a mother changed you: Yes. It has changed my priorities, at least for the next few years. It has made me more passionate about making the world better for my daughter. It has made me more patient and relaxed. 

Hopes for your family: I would love another baby so that my girl can have someone on her team all of her life. But beyond that I want us to adventure together so that she is never afraid of doing new things alone when the time comes. I want my husband and I to demonstrate a healthy loving relationship so that she looks for the same thing and doesn't settle for less. 

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums? Trust your own instincts. Don't feel guilty about looking after yourself. Delegate to daddy or any other support you have. Ask for help if you need it. For anything and everything, from breastfeeding to PND.

Kate and Arlo

Name: Kate 

Child: Arlo, 4 months

Location: Burnage, Manchester

Expectations of Motherhood: I have always known that I wanted to have children. When I was younger, I had a plan… I’d graduate university, get a job, work hard at my career, buy a house, get married and then have kids in my 30s. And I did it! I stuck to my plan. Only when it came to the ‘having kids’ bit, it turned out that it wasn’t as easy as I thought.

I have always been very responsible when it came to contraception – believing that if I ever didn’t use it, I was bound to get pregnant. I wanted children but I wanted to have them when the time was right – when I was happy, settled and financially secure.

In 2010, I bought a house with John, my partner of 12 years, and the year after that, we got married. We settled nicely into married life and about a year later decided to start a family. What I didn’t know at the time was what was to come…

After the first few months of trying and nothing happening, we figured maybe I hadn’t worked out the timing of ovulation quite right and promptly bought some testing kits. A year down the line, we thought maybe it was because of stress – a combination of the monthly pressure of not conceiving, day to day stress and family members with health issues. We vowed to try to relax and hope for the best. A further six months on, with still nothing happening, I went to my GP and was referred for some fertility tests. A couple of months later, I had the tests and there was nothing wrong with me, no obvious reason why I wasn’t getting pregnant. Again, we put it down to stress and continued to try. 

By this time, I was almost beside myself. I was desperate for us to have a child and I couldn’t understand why it was so hard to conceive. In the time that we were trying, over 40 babies were born to our friends and family. Each time someone told me they were pregnant, whilst I was incredibly happy for them, I also began to feel a little jealous. How come they could get pregnant and I couldn’t? I felt like my body was letting me down and began to lose hope. 

At the start of 2015, three years after we started trying, we accepted that it probably wasn’t going to happen naturally and went back to our GP to discuss the possibility of IVF. We were referred to the Fertility Clinic in May, both went through a battery of tests (mine on my birthday – happy birthday to me) only to find that there was no medical reason for me not to conceive; no problem with John or I – it was ‘just one of those things’, which in some ways was even more frustrating as we couldn’t rationalise why it wasn’t happening. So we signed up for IVF, were added to the waiting list and were told it would be 12-18 months before we could begin treatment. 

Some things to note about IVF: 

- The NHS is blummin’ wonderful. We should never take for granted how lucky we are.
- The chances of IVF working aren’t great (mine were approximately 1 in 3 due to my age).
- Because of the postcode lottery, we had one chance (had we lived elsewhere, this could have been up to three).
- They take out as many eggs as they can and fertilise them.
- They prefer to only implant one embryo at a time – the rest are frozen.
- Even if IVF did work, I could still miscarry. 

Just before Christmas 2015, I took a phone call in work - someone had dropped out of the IVF process and a spot had opened up, could I come in tomorrow for more tests? I, of course, said yes and the next day my husband and I headed off to the clinic to have the tests to determine the medication I would be on. On Christmas Eve, I took delivery of all the drugs and hormones I’d be taking in the New Year, and promptly had to pack them off to my sister-in-law’s as there was no room in my fridge due to the turkey!On 2 January 2016, I began my treatment. At the same time every day I had to inject myself in my stomach. After a couple of weeks, it increased to two daily injections plus blood tests at hospital every other day so they could monitor my hormone levels and egg supply. Approximately a month after I started treatment, I had to give myself a third injection and then we headed off to the hospital to have my eggs removed and for John to provide his sample. Once the eggs were out, they were assessed for their quality and then fertilised. The day after my eggs were removed, I received a phone call from the clinic… they had managed to take out four eggs – one didn’t fertilise, one did fertilise but died, one fertilised but the quality of the embryo was compromised and one had fertilised and was ideal for treatment. As this left me with one dodgy embryo, rather than freeze it and compromise it further, the doctors decided to implant the two viable embryos the next day and hope for the best. Two and a half weeks later, I would be able to do a pregnancy test. Three days later I started bleeding.

By this point, I was convinced that the IVF hadn’t worked, and spent the next two weeks dreading a pregnancy test that I was positive would be negative. John kept telling me to have faith that everything would work out but I was really struggling. Two weeks later, we both spent the night tossing and turning before getting up at 5am to do a pregnancy test. When it was positive, we were both over the moon! 

After checking in with the fertility clinic to let them know the good news, I was told then next step would be to attend a ‘viability scan’ – possibly the worst-named thing ever – in three weeks’ time. This scan would determine if our baby had a heartbeat and would take place on our wedding anniversary of all days. We were both dreading it and trying not to get our hopes up – when we saw what looked like a tiny bean on the ultrasound screen and were told that it had a strong heartbeat, we felt like the luckiest people alive. Unfortunately the other embryo hadn’t taken, hence the bleeding, but we had beaten the odds – we were pregnant! Again, we tried not to get too excited – we were still very aware of miscarriage statistics – the next step was to get to the 14 week scan. Then the 20 week scan. And then, because I had a placenta complication, the 28, 32, 36 and 40 week scans. Every day as we anxiously awaited the arrival of our baby, our love for him grew and grew. I loved being pregnant but I couldn’t wait to give birth and finally hold him in my arms. I think we both felt that until that moment came, there was still the potential for something to go wrong.

On 28 October 2016, nearly 11 months after I started IVF, after a mainly smooth but dramatic towards the end labour, I gave birth to Arlo. The moment they placed him on my chest and told me he was fine, I felt an overwhelming sensation of relief, immense gratitude and triumph that we had made it! He was here and he was ours and our hearts burst with joy.

Reality of Motherhood: I don’t know if it’s because we wanted him so much and that we loved him deeply even before he was born, or whether it’s because my husband and I have such a good, solid relationship (we’ve been together 18 years now), or just sheer luck, but Arlo is such a happy, chilled out baby.

We really are very lucky. Since he was about 8 weeks old he has slept through the night. He has his dinner around 7-8pm then goes down for a nap until around 11pm-12am, when we wake him for a final feed, then he typically sleeps until 8am. The fact that we get sleep makes dealing with anything that might come up in the day so much easier.

Arlo currently spends his days smiling, going for walks, playing (chiffon scarves and feathers run over his face are a favourite), working out on his baby play gym, squeaking (babies make really weird noises), going to various playgroups and classes and spending time with his grandparents. He has a lovely life and it shows. Now he’s four months old, his personality is really shining through and he makes me laugh on a daily basis. He’s only been here for nineteen weeks but it’s almost like we can’t remember a time without him. 

Taking your baby home for the first time: Just after he was born, when we were on the recovery ward cuddling, he latched himself on and started feeding. It came naturally to both of us, which was a relief because I wanted to breastfeed but had all the usual worries: it could be hard, I might not produce enough milk, he might not latch on etc. I have lots of friends with children so from their experiences I knew it could be difficult but we were doing okay and the next day were discharged from hospital. I had a few stitches and for the next few days had to do injections in the stomach to prevent DVT, but otherwise felt pretty good considering the previous 24 hours. 

The hospital in only ten minutes down the road so after a short drive we were home. We brought him in, put the kettle on and just sat staring at him. Both cats mooched over for a look, neither seemed sure, and then we just got on with it.

I was told the community midwife would be with us at some point 8am-6pm the next day. Lugging my battered post-laboured body out of bed at 7am to get everybody up and dressed just on the off chance we were first on her list was not really how either or us wanted to start the day. But we wanted to show her that everything was fine so we could move forward with us being discharged from care. 

She eventually came at 4pm after we’d changed many nappies, fed Arlo and he was asleep. She immediately stripped him down – we’d already discovered he screamed whenever we removed his clothes, this kid was not a fan of being naked – and told me to feed him. He’d literally just eaten so wasn’t bothered for it and was distressed without his Babygro on. She then told me that the more I practised, the better I’d be, instructed me to try a different position and then tried to make Arlo latch on. He still wasn’t having it as he was already full, which I explained, but then she said that his shaky hands could be a sign of hypoglycaemia and it was important for me to feed him on demand. Those ‘shaky hands’ were his startle reflex. All babies have them but it seemed like there was a lot of pressure on this breastfeeding lark. She said she’d be back in four days.

After she left, we carried on taking care or Arlo. Changing him, feeding him, burping. You know the drill. Then, four days in, as I was going to bed, I noticed my legs were really swollen and that when I touched them they were solid and they almost felt like they weren’t mine. I phoned triage and was told to get myself to A&E asap. It was 1am and was the last thing we needed. We bundled up Arlo in his warmest clothes and headed off to the hospital. There was no way we could take Arlo in with us into the cold waiting room full of sick and injured people so John dropped me off then the two of them headed home. We both assumed I’d be home in a few hours and be able to feed Arlo and he’d hopefully sleep until then. Instead, I was admitted with suspected DVT and needed to have scans on my legs which wouldn’t be until late morning, and John was thrown in at the deep end with a baby that was wide awake and hungry at 3am. 

Luckily we had a few small bottles of ready-made formula in the house which would tide him over until early morning. I’m not sure how he was straight minded enough to do this in the middle of the night with a screaming newborn, but John checked online which local shops sold them and where they were in stock so that his mum could be there first thing to grab a pack so that he could feed Arlo. When I rang home at 7am to check that everyone was up for the midwife – she comes anytime 8am-6pm remember (agghhhh) – I could hear him crying in the background because he was hungry and I went to pieces. I couldn’t be there for him and it was awful. A lovely nurse hugged me as I sat on the bed crying and told me that it was all fine and that John sounded like he was doing a cracking job, which of course he was. He rang my parents around 9am to let them know what was going on and they were with me about an hour later with supplies, hugs and conversation to keep me distracted while I waited for my scan. 

Thankfully it wasn’t DVT – it turned out that I had a liver deficiency due to the blood loss in labour. The wonky levels caused swelling and it would right itself within a month or so. Massively relieved, I headed home and promptly fed Arlo. He latched himself on, had a big feed and seemed happy. However, over the next few weeks, breastfeeding became more and more difficult. He was feeding for 40-60 minutes on one boob, then had to go on the other for the same amount of time and then was still hungry so we’d have to give him one of the little formula bottles. Again, we were very lucky in that regard. Boob or bottle, he didn’t care. But something wasn’t right, what used to be easy now seemed a marathon for both of us. Arlo was using all of his energy trying to eat, he was definitely getting my milk but no matter how long the feeds were, he never seemed satisfied. 

I went to a breastfeeding clinic and they confirmed I was definitely producing milk but my supply had likely decreased due to that one night I spent in hospital so soon after giving birth when I didn’t feed him for nearly 24 hours. They suggested that as well as continuing to feed Arlo exactly as I was, which was up to 10 hours a day at that point plus bottles, I should also express for 10 minutes each side, 10 times a day. Up to 15 hours a day with something attached to my boob. No thanks. The most important thing to me was that Arlo was satisfied and didn’t have to work so hard to feed. The decision to wean him off me and onto bottles was easy. 

He’s been on bottles since he was 5 weeks old and it suits us. He is finally satisfied and doesn’t have to use up all his energy trying to eat, plus we can both feed him which means it’s been relatively easy continuing as we were before. I go to my WI meetings, I’ve done a few Keep in Touch days in work, and from time to time the grandparents will look after him while John and I get something done or maybe go out for a meal.

The best/worst advice: You will be given so much conflicting information that you feel like your head will explode. One example being that after Arlo had fed on the recovery ward, I started winding him and a nurse came over and said “Oh no, you never burp a breastfed baby.” This confused me but I thought “Oh okay, she’s a medical professional” and stopped. Later on the maternity ward, I fed Arlo and then asked a nurse to help put him down as I couldn’t – I was still numb from the spinal I had to have in case I needed an emergency C-section. The nurse promptly gave me a lecture on the importance of burping and said she’d be back in ten minutes. Ten minutes later my freshly winded son was put down for a nap until he woke up again for another feed. 

If you’re a first time mum your head will also feel about ready to pop when you’re faced with things like the Pram Department at whichever shop you are in. The first time we went to look at prams, we walked in, assessed the vast array of travel systems in front of us and left without looking at any of them, totally overwhelmed. Being a data geek, I conducted a study amongst my Facebook chums who are parents and worked out the Top 5. We went back, looked at those and picked my favourite one.

If you’re planning on childcare or sending your baby to nursery, then look at them as soon as you can. I know. It sounds dramatic but it will save you a headache. Just before Arlo turned three months old we started to look at nurseries, catching up on Ofsted Reports and setting up visits. Three were already full and had massive waiting lists. One was nice but a little bit out of the way and couldn’t do the days I wanted. One was awful. And one felt just right, so that’s where he’s going for a few days each week from October when I return to work.

The best advice I’ve had is that if you are chilled out the baby will be. Over the years, we’ve built a lovely home that was just waiting for this little dude to come and make it his. I feel quite relaxed about being a mother. I think that because we waited so long I had such a lot of time to think about what it would be like to be one. It feels amazing when I hold him in my arms or play with him on his mat, and when he cries I tell him the story of how he came to be to settle him down. I’ve certainly got a lot sillier. I have to be silly to make him laugh! And when he laughs or smiles, it’s just the best thing. He lights up the room.

The hardest parts of being a mother: Breastfeeding – see above.

When we did switch to bottles full time, Arlo developed colic and would spend nights fast asleep but grunting and straining and kicking his legs. Seeing him in distress was awful but with a lot of cuddles, winding, leg pumps, baby massage and Infacol, we managed it for the next six weeks or so and now he’s happily colic free.

I’m sure everyone says this but one of the hardest parts of being a mother is the sheer responsibility of raising another human being. You want to do your absolute best by them and for them to be happy and healthy. I’m only four months in and I’ve already made choices for him about how we spend our time and where his formal education will begin when I go back to work. It’s wonderful watching him grow and develop. Every day something new will make him laugh or make him curious, and it’s my job to make sure that each day is an adventure, leaves him smiling and knowing he is loved.

The best parts of being a mother: The smiles he gives first thing in the morning when I look in on him. He goes really wide-eyed, smiles a huge smile, kicks his legs and puts his arms up. It’s the best thing to wake up to.

Smiles in general. I am drunk on his smiles. If I’m really lucky, I also get squeaks.

Any time I make him laugh. I will literally do anything to make him laugh.

Box sets and films – I’ve caught up on loads whilst trapped under my feeding infant.

Seeing Arlo enjoy spending time with his grandparents is lovely – he’s got them all wrapped around his little finger. I’m sure that at some point they must have considered that they may not have grandchildren so to see them with their grandson is a wonderful thing. 

Watching John be a father fills me with absolute joy. He has been a brilliantly supportive partner, changing nappies, doing the late night and early morning feeds, doing bath time, walking Arlo around the house whilst trying to lull him to sleep, taking him to classes and entertaining him whilst I make dinner. I really love to cook and find it relaxing so it’s lovely that I can continue to do that whilst John spends time with his boy. The conversations they have often make me laugh out loud. He’s a great dad and I’m looking forward to us growing together as a family.

Has becoming a mother changed you? Yes and no. Yes because I have this little person who depends on me and will always be my first priority. And no, because I feel that my life hasn’t really changed that much and instead Arlo has fit into our lives like the missing piece of a puzzle. Before I was pregnant, my idea of a good night out was a nice meal, a film or a trip to the theatre (I work in one, it’s handy), and I’ve done all of those things since having Arlo. He’s even going to see his first play where I work – The Very Hungry Caterpillar – in a couple of weeks. Obviously I know he won’t have a clue what’s going on but the colours and shapes and songs will be fun for him. Another way that I’ve changed is that I notice things more because Arlo is so curious. I’m constantly explaining what something is or pointing something out for him to look at and naming what we can see. It’s just the little things but I now look at the world from a different perspective.

Hopes for your  family: Some of the consultants and doctors we have come across on our journey have said that now I have been pregnant, because there’s no underlying reason for me not to, I may be able to conceive naturally. If I can, that’s great! I would love to add to brood and for Arlo to have a little brother or sister. If not, though I’ll forever be grateful to IVF and the nurses, doctors and consultants we came across who made Arlo possible, due to the decreasing chances as I get older, I don’t think we’ll go down that road again. There’s always the possibility of adoption. Who knows what the future holds. The one thing I can say for sure is that we will always feel incredibly lucky to have Arlo. I hope that he grows up knowing how much he is loved, how much we wanted him and how incredible the world is. We feel privileged to be his parents. 

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Have some ‘me time’. Whether that’s a long hot bath, a trip to the cinema with a friend or doing the food shopping (a favourite of mine), whatever makes you relax and unwind. I’m very lucky because in the first few months after Arlo was born John finished work at 4pm and was home by 4.30pm. He’d come through the front door, take Arlo off me for a cuddle and then took over parenting duties so that I could have a few hours to myself. I love spending time with Arlo but it’s nice to be able to continue to do usual day to day things that keep me sane. 

Develop a network of mums. Most of my friends have children and it’s great to be able to ask them questions and hear about their experiences. I didn’t know anyone who was going to have a child around the same time as me so I did an NCT course to meet other local mums to be. The women that I met through that are all lovely and we often meet for play dates, classes and coffee. We have a What’s App group, which has been brilliant. In the first few weeks there was a lot of ‘Hello… anyone else up?’ messages in the middle of the night (at least two of us were always up). Being able to ask each other questions about anything from baby massage and breastfeeding to box set recommendations and the ridiculous outfits we plan to inflict on our children (think reindeer and elves), has been great and more than once has reassured me that whatever is currently happening, it’s probably also happening to someone else. 

Enjoy every moment because it’s gone in a flash. He’s only four months old but I can’t believe how much he has changed already, and it’s only going to get worse. Be present. Have fun. Love with abandon. Be kind. Be patient. Teach your child all of the qualities that you admire. We often wonder what kind of little boy Arlo will grow up to be and I like to think that it will be the best part of the two of us, with some of his grandparents, aunt and uncle and our friends for good measure.

Any other info: I donated my placenta and cord blood to Anthony Nolan Trust who help people affected by blood cancer or blood disorders. It’s a great cause and something I’d encourage mums to be to consider. Visit their website www.anthonynolan.org for more information.

Find me on Twitter @FitzBowden

Rebecca and Grace (and Ruby)

Name: Rebecca

Children: Grace 23 months and 7 months pregnant with second baby girl called Ruby

Location: Bolton

Expectations of Motherhood: My expectations of Motherhood second time around are much more realistic than they were with my first born. One word sums me up in terms of my expectations with our first born...naive! Looking back I think I walked around in a rose coloured daze, not quite fully taking on board well meaning words of warning about exhaustion, and upheaval in every possible sense. I listened only to the good stuff about being in love with your baby from the very start, spending hours gazing at the little wonder you had created, and the beauty of the warmth and scent of your little newborn. All of which were absolutely true for me, but also in the real world, so was the rest of it.

My naivety seemingly knew no bounds, from believing that conception would be a piece of cake right through to carefully choosing matching pyjamas/dressing gown/slippers and organic toiletries for my hospital time, oh and not forgetting my own 'going home outfit' (!!!!). In reality, I actually spent the whole time post birth unwashed due to needing a second epidural for my stitches (baby wipe washing doesn't count) in a lovely pale green hospital gown and returned home in the clothes that I wore when I arrived at the hospital!

When my husband and I decided to try for a baby, my stage one naivety kicked in. I genuinely believed that once we had made the decision to try for a baby, things would just happen, we were young and healthy, so why wouldn't things work for us? Huge reality check needed here.

It took my husband and I 5 years to conceive our first born Grace, and during this time we had both been through the emotional roller coaster and absolute heartache that accompanies fertility treatments, including failed IVF. It wasn't until we were due to start another round of IVF that we found out I was pregnant the night before treatment started!! What a crazy and exciting Sunday night that turned out to be!!

And so my stage 2 naivety began...the White Company illusion. I perused catalogue images of beautiful white and soft grey nurseries with babies dressed in fresh white cotton and Mother's looking serene dressed in luxury cashmere of dove grey. Surely this is what it will be like when Gracie arrives, so I'll take one of everything please. Pah!! Wrong, wrong, wrong! What's even more ridiculous is that I have friends who had already had babies by then, and whilst their lives were wonderful, and they are all strong accomplished women and mothers, they certainly didn't waft around Earth Mother style in floaty white linen dresses!

Stage three naivety kicked in when I wrote my birthing plan. This turned out to be an exercise in opposites! The expectation of a drug free, relaxing water birth was most definitely wrong again!! And I salute any woman who has managed to achieve it. 

My expectations second time around are much more realistic. This time, I have experience on my side and hopefully a little wisdom that has been born out of my airhead naive approach systematically failing first time around! 

This time, however my naivety of the birth has been replaced a little with fear, as my birth with Grace certainly didn't go to plan and there were elements of that time that still haunt me. I'm fearful that things might go wrong again, however I am more self assured that my body and mind are firmly set in reality this time. I gave birth to our beautiful Grace last time with unexpected curve balls, so I can do it again this time with a little experience in my corner. 

When our little Ruby is born we will be parents to a 2 year old and a newborn, so obviously I am concentrating on everyone who is telling me that having children with such an age gap is great! No problems to anticipate here! Surely, having a new born and a toddler at the same time is going to be an absolute doddle. Now where is that White Company magazine, as I'm sure I saw a lovely white linen dress that I could wear coming home from the hospital?!! (Seriously, there's no hope for me).

Reality of Motherhood:  That's it is wonderful, exhausting, trying, scary, and the best thing that has ever happened to me. 

Everyday Motherhood brings me a new challenge and a new joy. Our Daughter is an absolute gift and I adore spending my time with her. Being a Mother has taught me that I'm stronger than I ever thought I could be, but that it's also ok to ask for help. I've learned that some days, you just have to work those food smears into a fashion statement and that it's ok to dry shampoo your hair for the third day running!!

Taking your child home for the first time:  Bringing Grace home felt like a double edged sword as we were so excited to bring our gorgeous baby home, however within 24 hours we had to readmit her into hospital as she had become dehydrated and had low blood sugar levels, due to breastfeeding not working. Talk about feeling like an absolute failure!

After a further 24 hours in hospital, we finally brought Grace home properly and thankfully after that all was well. I just had to learn and accept that it was more than ok that breastfeeding hadn't worked, so out came the breast pumps and the stage of the milking mama began!!


My naivety really hit home in respect of how I just hadn't prepared mentally for the first few weeks after giving birth. I think that because we had spent such a long time trying for our little miracle, I felt that I couldn't be honest with myself and those around me, that actually, in those early weeks, I was struggling emotionally. It didn't help that my labour had been a little traumatic and long and I was exhausted from 3 days sleep deprivation before our Princess had even been born. This coupled with Grace and I being unable to breastfeed, and her having to be readmitted to hospital all compounded the hormonal struggle that is the baby blues. Thankfully, this stage was over quickly, but I certainly wish that I had prepared better for this reality of early Motherhood that can momentarily cloud the joy of being at home with your newborn. 

The best/worst advice: Interestingly, some of the best and worst advice came in the form of the same sentence "Trust your instincts." What bloody instincts?!?! Despite reading every damn baby book going, I still felt woefully unprepared for all the curve balls newborns throw at you, and if an answer to my questions couldn't be found by flicking manically through 'What to Expect' or after a crazy google search which often resulted in me being momentarily convinced that either myself and/or Grace had contracted some kind of tropical disease in urban Bolton, I would spiral into a mini melt down and take Grace to the walk in centre, where I fear I may now be at risk of being listed as a Munchausen syndrome by proxy mother!!

Thankfully, I have been surrounded by wonderful calmer women who have done all this before, and were there to tell me to stop being crazy and all was fine, and actually, as our Daughter grew and we grew to know her, those instincts strangely did kick in, and I now consider myself part witch with my amazing mother senses!!  

One mother friend gave me some really sound advice which was firstly, to stop reading all the stupid baby books and secondly to try and carve some time for yourself and your husband, as it's easy to let this slip by whilst you adjust to being in your new roles of Mummy and Daddy. 

Finding time to be a couple has been a challenge at times, especially in those early months, when in reality you may be eating together, or cuddling on the sofa but neither of you are quite present in the moment, and are simply trying not to fall asleep on one another, or hit each other over the head with a pan because one of you has woken the baby by mistake! Thankfully after those first few crazy months, we made a conscious effort to make some proper time for each other, and I consider myself to be the luckiest woman in the world to have such a wonderful husband, when I'm not imagining his head popping off because he can't seem to change a nappy without asking me to help of course!! 

One friend also advised me to take a photograph of my vagina and stick it on the fridge, as it would never ever look the same again! This advice had me in hysterics when I first heard it, however after a ventouse delivery and a 3rd degree tear, I wish I had taken a little more heed of what she was saying. Not sure visitors to the house would have appreciated the addition to the family pics though!!

The hardest parts of being a mother:  As a mother you are literally non stop all day every day. Even when Grace has gone to bed, I'm not switched off from her. I'm still reading the baby and toddler books (sorry friend who told me to ditch them), trying to understand the developmental stages, or finding new ways to encourage her to eat different foods, or generally worrying about whether I'm doing a good enough job. This relentlessness is tiring emotionally and physically and I don't know when I'll ever feel fully refreshed again! I asked my Nanna this once and she said in about 20 years!! Honest, but brutal advice!!

The best parts of being a mother:  Everything! Cliched I know, but even the most challenging days can bring you out the other side having learned something about yourself. The pure joy that your child brings you makes everything worth it. Watching your family grow is a gift and one that I never thought I would have, so I treasure it with my whole heart. Watching my family grow and the new roles we have all taken makes me a very proud woman.

Has becoming a mother changed you?  Yes, in every way. I am stronger, more self-assured (well at least I am now after my crazy first few months of being a new Mother), I take less shit and love harder than I ever thought possible. I'm also a bit more brain dead, as I don't think baby brain has ever left me, and now I have it again!! I've also become braver, and feel like my life's priorities are starting to be in the right order. After having Grace, and my maternity leave came to an end, I made the difficult decision not to return to my work in Insolvency, but instead took a leap of faith and embarked on starting a photography career, which enables me to finally be creative, and is something which can allow me to spend quality time with my children, and gives me the creative outlet that I've needed for a long time.

I am still me - Bec, and I am still Bec the wife, the friend, the daughter, the granddaughter, the sister, the niece, the auntie... but I am also Bec the mother and this additional role in my life has brought me rewards that I never thought were possible. 


Hopes for your family: To safely bring our new Daughter Ruby into the world and enjoy watching her and our family grow and blossom. What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Don't be tough on yourself. Motherhood is hard, but it's also wonderful, and you are doing a great job. Ask for help when you need it, stock up your freezer, and it's ok to wear pjs all day and just gaze at the wonder that is your newborn, oh and buy lots of dry shampoo!!

Also, never read the Wonder Weeks - totally terrifying thunder clouds, and maybe consider taking that photograph...as it really doesn't look the same afterwards!! 

Rebecca Royle is a photographer based in Bolton, Greater Manchester and specialises in children and family photography. Her website can be found at www.rebeccaroylephotography.co.uk

Elena, Natalie and Mia

Name: Elena

Children: Natalie and Mia (both nearly 4 years old)

Location: Chorlton, Manchester

Expectations of motherhood: I've always had this expectation that I would be a good mother. I think this idea came from the fact that I was older when we decided to start a family. I thought if I were to collect all of my experiences, live my life and get everything else out of the way, then I'd have so much more to give to the kids. As I got older and we started to try I just didn't get pregnant. After about 7 years or so I very quietly started to say, 'I'm not going to be a mother,' but I don't think I ever really believed that. 

It did happen in the end, through IVF, and because it felt like we'd waited for so long I found that I suddenly had no expectation of what would happen. It was almost like whatever happened it would be fine, and then I found out it was twins which was even better. I came to the conclusion that expectations didn't matter anymore - my own role as a mother didn't come into it anymore; it was all about them now.  

The pregnancy was straight forward and if anyone had told me that I would breeze through a twin-pregnancy without any major complaints I wouldn't have believed them. They were both breach for the last three months and so in the end was booked in for a c-section. 

Reality of motherhood: When they were born I kind of expected the big wave of love that people talk about, I didn't get that, but I did feel hugely hugely and instinctively protective. Mia was very small and she had a low birthweight. They were both so tiny - I felt like a mother lion around them. 

I was in for a week and we had a single room - they wouldn't let us out until Mia could control her own body temperature. It was fine though and it meant that by the time we left I felt a lot more confident. In the hospital the midwives and nurses were there all the time if I had questions, and that support continued at home for about another 6-8 weeks (until Mia's weight had risen enough). From then we were left to our own devices. 

A lot of people say to me, 'Wow, you must have found it hard with twins,' but actually I just didn't find it that hard when they were little because they mainly wanted the same things at the same time. Maybe it's my age, but I really didn't struggle. They were feeding in the same rhythm and that was easy to cope with. It's only now that I'm finding it quite stressful!

Taking your children home for the first time: After a week in the hospital we were allowed out and we brought them home in their car seats (which they totally disappeared in); the girls were just so tiny. We had no idea how to strap them in - we had to call the nurses to come and check we'd done it correctly. We made the journey home and then put them down in the front room, sat down and said 'What do we do now?' - the typical new parent scenario. You sit there and look and think, and now what? 

For a couple of days we tried to carry on as normal. I was downstairs getting on with normal life as much as possible and then I thought, 'No, this is not working.' For the following 6 weeks I retired upstairs to bed with the girls. I was so lucky because of Dave being self-employed, he was at home and around to look after me - I have no idea how women cope who don't have that sort of support. We also had a good friend who would come with food once or twice a week too - that was great. 

We just lived on the bed - me, the two girls, the 4 cats that we had at the time and daddy, on and off. We just spent that time getting used to each other. It was a really wonderful time and we did a lot of very important bonding in those weeks. I remember just looking at them for hours while they slept, just marvelling at them. I managed to breastfeed them which was really nice, in fact I fed them till they were 18 months. That was such a lovely time, I wish that everyone could have that luxury to spend time with their babies, getting to know them, snuggling and cuddling. It came so naturally.

Best advice: When they were babies, a friend who had also had twins (who are now adults themselves) said, 'You have to tell your other half what you need because we're not mind readers'. 

Another thing, the midwife who came to our house for a few weeks following the birth told me to trust my instincts. I was constantly worrying about whether I was doing it right and she said, 'You're doing great, just relax'. That really helped. I learnt that even though we live in modern times we still have our own mother's instinct. We might be way off sometimes, but in the early days relaxing into it works. You're not going to kill them (unless you're being extremely stupid); babies are quite robust. I remember one night when Dave was out and Mia fell off the bed. She was two months old and to this day I have no idea how she did it. The girls couldn't move, never mind roll. I was petrified, but she was absolutely fine. 

Don't try to be perfect, you'll never get it totally right. 

Worst advice: Sleep training and controlled crying. I don't understand why you'd do it. It seems so detrimental to what I believe is right. I tried it once and I managed 40/45 mins, but the whole time I was stood outside their room crying my eyes out. 

I've always stayed in their room until they feel asleep and often slept on a futon between their cots when they were small. It's only been about six months that they've been happy for me to say goodnight and then go, but I just always thought, my children are only little, and if they need me near them to feel safe enough to go to sleep then that's no major skin off my nose. It's only a very short period in my life and it's a very important part of theirs. There were obviously times when I was resentful and I didn't want to be woken up every two hours - everybody feels like that occasionally - but on the whole I think if they need me, why not fulfil the child's need? I've waited such a long time to have them and I love spending time with them, I'm willing to do things on their terms at times when I feel they really need it.

The hardest part of being a mother: You can't quit. It is the hardest job in the world with the biggest responsibility ever and you can't go to the union and say, 'I want more pay, I want less hours.' 

It's quite scary really, especially bringing up two girls. Things have changed so much since I was young. I've got friends with older kids who are having issues with social media and the internet. I don't know how we're going to handle that, but I suppose you do it as best you can and cross that bridge when you come to it. 

My wellbeing is so dependent on theirs - when they're seriously ill I feel so helpless and just desperately want to help them get better. 

t's very easy to feel like you have to live up to everybody's expectations and try to be a perfect mother. What you're supposed to be and what you are, are often very far apart and so you can't help but feel like a failure, but in the end I think you can learn a lot about yourself. Even when you get it wrong, or you think you got it wrong, you might later find that you did get it right after all and weren't that far off the mark. Motherhood is so scary because you have to make it up as you go along.

The best part of being a mother: Double cuddles, double fun. Watching them grow. Seeing the girls develop. I read parenting and child psychology books out of interest and find it so fascinating to see about how children learn how the world around them works. It's so fascinating how that all works. 

Has becoming a mother changed you? Definitely, yes. I waited for such a long time and almost didn't have children, so my focus is totally on them now. I'm very aware of their needs and tend to put them before anyone else's, although I'm doing that a little less these days. 

Now they're a little bit older I start craving more 'me time'; the girls can be really very exhausting - especially mentally exhausting - and now that I'm having more time to myself it's as if I'm collecting all the pieces of me and putting myself back together, and I do seem to be slightly different. I can't put my finger on HOW I'm different (apart from the obvious that I'm a mother), but I certainly feel different. 

I know a lot of younger parents, and some of them really feel a desire to get out and party again, but I don't have that. Maybe I'm more grounded now. It's hard to determine how I've changed, but motherhood has definitely changed me for the better.    

Hopes for your family: I hope that we'll be able to keep the girls safe. I know that there are issues with boys too, but I feel that's especially important because we've got girls. I hope that they grow up with a sense of who they are. I hope they learn that they can say 'no' in circumstances where they feel uncomfortable. For example, I don't make them give kisses to anyone. I would never force them to kiss anyone (be it relatives or friends) if they weren't happy about it. I want them to grow up owning their bodies, being comfortable in their own skin and being able to say, 'No, this is not what I want.' I hope that this self-assertion never gets violated in any sense, but all you can do is enable them to do that. 

I hope I manage to keep them safe without clucking over them. I do hope we'll be able to let them go eventually -  but that's still a long way off. I'd like it if they got a sense of what justice was, too, a sense of right and wrong. 

I hope they get an actual sense of where they want to go and what they want to do - they can do whatever they want as far as I'm concerned, just as long as they find something that they love doing. Although that is easier said than done: unfortunately you do have to earn money somehow. We'll see whether we get that one right. 

Advice to new and expectant mums: On a practical note, buy stuff on Ebay. If you buy everything new you can spend over a thousand pounds before you even have the baby.  

Spend as much time as you can in those early days with your newborns. Cleaning and cooking is not important, but those early days are so important for bonding.

  If you happen to go to any ante-natal classes (like the NCT ones I went to) keep in touch with the families you meet. There are still four of us from our group who regularly meet up. It's almost  like having extra siblings for the kids - they've known each other so long. When we go to each others' houses the children behave just like they're at home. In the early days those types of groups are also great for getting you out of the house and everybody you meet will be dealing with exactly the same issues. 

Try and enjoy those early weeks and months. I believe that I was very privileged - I probably still am - and I know there are lots of people who aren't as fortunate, but I'd like to think that if our situation had been different it still wouldn't have been about belongings and what you buy them.

For me, it's about love, cuddles and showing my children that I'm there for them. If you manage to build this emotional connection then a lot of other things can go wrong and it won't matter as much.