Java and Gryffin

Name: Java

Child: Gryffin, 11 months

Location: Old Trafford

Expectations of Motherhood: As soon as people found out I was pregnant they would exclaim, 'You will never sleep again!'. So this was my main expectation. 

I felt like I was preparing myself for a tornado, but somehow, nothing can ever quite prepare you for the sheer and utter madness of the first few months. I was also very scared that my child wouldn't like me and vice versa. In a very hormonal, overdue state I googled which star sign my baby was likely to be. He would most likely be an Aries. I then googled 'famous Aries' and one of the first results was Adolf Hitler. I think I must have been quite emotionally charged at the time, as this felt like an ominous sign so I poured myself a shower and sobbed for an hour. 

I have a very close relationship with my own mother but we have had quite dramatic ups and downs so this possibly contributed to my fear of parenthood. I also found it hard to believe that we would ever have a healthy child as we had a late stage termination with our first baby in 2014. She was a little girl and we named her Alma. She had an interrupted aortic arch in her heart and was diagnosed with DiGeorge syndrome. We chose to end her life at 24 weeks and gave birth to her tiny body at St Mary's hospital. The idea of having a healthy child seemed impossible at times. Overall, I felt fearful.

Reality of Motherhood: I was correct. I have barely slept more than two hours at a time in 11 months. But what I wasn't prepared for was the overwhelming love and joy I feel hanging out with this hilarious human that has appeared in our life. I couldn't ever have imagined how deeply I would love him. It hurts my heart when I look at him inspecting his peas on his plate and babbling earnestly about something or other and pointing out the buttons on my shirt. I have chosen not to return to work (a combination of childcare costs and feeling ready to move on from my previous work), so being a full time stay at home mum means that I am at the 24 hour mercy of another person's whims and desires. The days often feel long and repetitive and occasionally I feel deeply bored, but there is also much delight in the small moments. Moments when Gryff tries a new food, or learns how to open a drawer or decides that being chased is the most hilarious thing to ever happen to him. These moments stop me in my tracks and remind me how lucky I am to witness them. And the laundry. No-one can prepare you for the laundry, especially if you use reusable nappies. 

Taking your child home for the first time: We had Gryffin at home as we had hoped. He was born at the bottom of our bed in the midday sunlight. Unfortunately I had bad tearing so an ambulance took us to the hospital shortly after and we had to stay there for six hours while I was sewn up and the midwives helped me latch Gryffin onto my breast. 

When we returned home I was nervous to be left alone with him. I hadn't yet felt the surge of love that so many mothers describe, I was nervous of him and felt awkward around this person I didn't know. I was confused as to why he couldn't simply 'be'. He was either asleep or awake and crying or trying to feed but failing. We would sing to him, rock him and dance with him but the only thing that could calm him was 'All Night Long' by Lionel Richie and it still works eleven months later. 

Three days after he was born I was sat staring at him in bed and suddenly realised that one day he would leave home and I started crying uncontrollably. I think the love hormones had finally started to kick in.

The best advice: The best advice I have received and keep on coming back to in moments of doubt is to find your own way as a mother. I am highly skilled at comparing myself to others and endlessly worry that other mothers are far more attentive/fun/creative/careful etc etc etc. But it is so true that you just need to do what you need to do to get through the hard times and try and retain a smidge of your sanity and keep your baby safe. There are as many ways to mother as there are mothers and children. 

Also, to visit a cranial osteopath. Gryffin cried endlessly for the first six weeks until we took him to see a cranial osteopath and after six sessions he was a different baby. It's easy to forget that the birth process can also be a traumatic experience for the baby and they can experience injuries. I'm not entirely sure what the osteopath did, but it worked. Gryffin has been so much happier since. 

The worst advice: The old 'You're creating a rod for your own back' adage. I understand it but I don't necessarily agree with the principle. I co-sleep with Gryffin and feed on demand. We never decided that we would 'follow' attachment parenting, I only found out that it was a style of parenting once I was doing it. It's not right for everybody but it works for us. If your instinct is leading you somewhere with your baby, it's most likely that you know best.

The hardest parts of being a mother: The lack of sleep has been (and still is) very hard. It affects your mental health, your tolerance levels, your ability to be patient..all the things that are pretty necessary to be a warm and loving mother! I find it extraordinary how many times I have truly believed that I cannot give another ounce of my being and then somehow...carried on. 

And knowing that Gryffin will be hurt is deeply upsetting. I try not to think about the heartache he will go through once he starts to understand the world in a more sophisticated way. The current political situation is weighing heavily on my mind for his future.

The best parts of being a mother: The warm, cosy, deep bond Gryff and I have. Today it took me an hour to get him down for a nap and I felt like I was losing my mind, but then he slept next to me for a while and when he woke up he was soft and rumpled and delighted to see me. He lay back on my legs and babbled about something very important in the dim light of the bedroom. My heart was brimming over and I felt so lucky.

Also, after giving birth my body simultaneously felt like it belonged to a seventy year old who had been in a car crash and the body of a warrior/super hero/feral beast. It was pretty incredible to know I had grown a human and pushed him out, I felt so invincible that I then ate some of my placenta raw in a smoothie. It felt fitting after having done something so powerful. Whenever I feel nervous or anxious I try and remind myself that I can be incredibly strong and the birth is a perfect reminder.

Has becoming a mother changed you? I feel that the world sees me in a different way. To some people I am invisible as a body behind a pram, and to others I am now a valid member of society because I have started my own family. I find this disconcerting.

I am still struggling with my shift in identity, figuring out which parts of me remain now that I no longer do the job I used to do, socialise in the way I once did or wear the clothes I have packed away for a distant day in the future. What of me remains, who am I now? I spend my days hanging out with a soon to be toddler playing with bricks and the sock drawer. In the evenings I go to bed at 7pm with Gryffin (because he won't sleep without me and I can't bare to let him cry) and watch tv on the iPad. Who does that make me? 

Hopes for your family: I hope that we can offer Gryffin a firm enough foundation to allow him to grow with confidence and security. I would like him to feel safe within his family and to understand the importance of generosity, kindness and celebration. We would like to have another child so that he can have a sibling for him to moan to about us when we are old farts.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums? Embrace it, embrace the pregnancy, embrace the early days and surrender to them. I felt pressured to get back to 'normal' and cook meals, hoover and run errands while Gryffin was tiny despite it feeling impossible. I wish I hadn't put that pressure on myself. It is a precious time and I'm only just starting to realise that it's one of the fundamentals of being alive. Not the only one, there are many, but it is certainly a very joyous and beautiful one.

Other info:
We had a termination when our first baby was 24 weeks in the womb. Making that decision broke my heart and affected me profoundly. Even though our baby wasn't alive I had become a mother, so when friends around us started having babies I felt a lot of bitterness and jealousy that they were recognised as mothers because they had a baby in their arms. We named her Alma. We buried her ashes on my favourite hill in Glossop. Her brief visit taught me about love in a way I hadn't experienced before. Our son Gryffin was born exactly a year after her due date in March. I wrote about the abortion on my blog http://www.javabere.co.uk as I struggled to find anything online about people's experiences regarding late stage termination. I think there's still a lot of taboo surrounding it. The incredible thing is that once friends and family started to find out what had happened, so many got in touch and shared their stories. Being honest about the painful stuff can be incredibly powerful.

Janet, Bess and Teddy

Name: Janet 

Children: Bess, 3 years 2 months at time of the photographs, (4 yrs at time of writing.)
Teddy, 5 mths at time of the photographs. (2 years at time of writing) 

Location: Levenshulme.

Expectations of Motherhood: With Bess I expected a home birth. With Teddy I expected a C-section. I expected them both to arrive early, I expected that I would breast feed for as long as possible, use cotton nappies and wear my babies until they were too big and that I would raise them as vegetarians. I had taught for many years before having babies, so I expected to find behaviour management at home a piece of cake. I also thought that, aside from having a baby, my social circle and support network would remain pretty much the same even though I wouldn’t be going out and about as much. I had been a ‘hands on’ aunty so I expected to manage the practical side of parenting quite well. I expected to be quite tired, but also knew I was about to meet the loves of my life.

Reality of Motherhood: I managed 26 hours of my first labour at home, but Bess had her head in a very silly position so I was taken in to St. Mary’s where, after 33 hours of giving it my best shot, I had an emergency section. The new hospital had opened that week and so Bess was one of the first babies born by section there. The staff were amazing! She was alb 11oz. 

With Teddy I was told I could try for a natural birth. I wanted to give it a go, but secretly thought I wouldn’t succeed. Much to my surprise – and terror – and pride! - my beautiful 9lb 5 0z baby boy arrived (with just a little bit of help from the forceps) after fifteen hours of labour. Both of them arrived late but in perfect time. Bess was ten days late, but she arrived the day before her teacher-daddy broke up for the summer holidays, and Teddy arrived 13 days late on the first Saturday of the Easter holidays.

Both of them attached to my boob within the first twenty minutes of life and have yet to completely let go. Bess never wore a disposal nappy and at two years old Teddy is following her record. I wore Bess in the sling as soon as my section scar allowed me to (up until I became pregnant with Mr. Teds), and I still wear Teddy on my back when I can. Both of them are vegetarian and Bess is really proud that she is.

I have learned that managing the behaviour of 31 children in a classroom is nothing compared to managing the behaviour of a headstrong, challenging, amazingly intelligent little girl who has a temper and can argue that black is white (and frequently does) and an equally strong willed, physically strong little boy. My husband and I often wonder what the children we have taught would make of the way these children of ours can play us!

Whilst I still have regular contact with some of my closest pre-baby friends, my social circle and support network is unrecognisable from those days. Through the baby groups I joined as a new mummy I met the most amazing group of people. From this time we have forged incredibly strong friendships with people that I cannot imagine ever being without. 

I think I did manage the practical side of being a mummy quite well in the early days. With Bess we did try and battle her into sleep routines and sleeping alone, even though my instincts told me this wasn’t right for our family. By the time Teddy came along we had researched the whole co-sleeping thing and had a much easier time of it. As for feeling tired- I didn’t know that level of tiredness was possible! I was 38 when Bess arrived and 41 when I had Teddy. I felt every one of those years and more when they were tiny. I still feel about 100 years old now. I am incredibly lucky to have a husband who regularly gives up his sleep and does a lot of the night time / early morning shifts; I seriously don’t know how I’d manage if he didn’t. However, along with the exhaustion came a strength that I never knew I possessed. A strength and a love that is so raw that it can overwhelm me and actually physically hurt at times. It is a love that is primal. I knew in theory that I would love my children, but, until I felt them moving inside me and then held them in my arms, I didn’t have a clue just how intense love could be.

Taking your children home for the first time: I remember crying when the midwife asked me if I wanted to go home with Bess. I really wanted to bring her home, but I felt that those few days in the hospital were so precious and special. I didn’t want them to end. We were brought home by Bess’ wonderful Godmother, who drove so carefully and refused to come in the house when we got back as this was our time. I had this big plan that we would open a bottle of fizz and eat Brie to celebrate. I don’t know what happened with the cheese, but we did open some fizz and raised a glass over the Moses basket. I was so tired and weak, having just had major surgery, I could hardly hold the glass, but I was determined to toast my baby.

After that we had visitors and helpers every single day for about five weeks. It was lovely to see people and show off our girl, but exhausting and overwhelming. In the end we had to start putting people off just so we could have some time getting settled as a family.

With Teddy I was eager to get home. I still loved the precious time in the hospital, but I had a two year old little girl missing me at home. We were very keen to get their relationship off to the best start possible and didn’t want to do anything that might cause resentment from Bess to her new brother. 

Bringing Ted home was a totally different experience to the first time with Bess. I was in a lot more discomfort this time and came home expecting the whole, ‘I’m a new mummy, and therefore a Goddess’ treatment. However, life with a 2 year old stops for no one. Bess still needed feeding, bath time, bedtime etc. All this was done by my husband, who hadn’t really had any rest since being by my side through childbirth. So when she was finally asleep he just needed to sleep too, ready for the night time joy a new baby brings. We didn’t have as many visitors for Teddy, but those that came were amazing. They bought food parcels or entertained Bess or made me cups of tea. It was also quite nice not to be bombarded by visitors. I had a lot more bonding and cuddling time with Teddy than I had with Bess in those first few weeks.

The best/worst advice: The two best pieces of advice I received were from my sister. She said that the only kit you really need with a new baby are your boobs and a cardboard box, and that as long as you feed them, clean them and love them you’ll do ok.

The two worst pieces of advice were: ‘ You want to stop that breast feeding habit’ and ‘Don’t worry when you drop your baby, everybody does at some point’ (!!!) 

(I never did drop them by the way, but Bess did roll off the changing table at 7 months and fell down the stairs last year)

The hardest parts of being a mother: I once read that loving your children is like having a permanent open wound. It is.

After I had Bess, although I was so thrilled to have this longed-for baby who I was absolutely smitten with, I also carried with me and underlying feeling of fury. I was particularly grumpy and angry with certain friends from my pre-baby days. None of these people had done anything to deserve this. I was also incredibly anxious about Bess’ safety. There were times when I refused to sleep because I was convinced something bad would happen to her if I did. I couldn’t watch the news, read anything that involved a child being unhappy, and absolutely refused to leave her with anyone that wasn’t me or my husband. This lasted to some degree or another until I fell pregnant with Teddy. I thought it was normal.

When Teddy arrived my feeling of fury returned tenfold. How my husband coped with my temper in those early weeks is beyond me. This time however, I mentioned how I was feeling to my doctor at my eight week check; I turned out I was suffering from postnatal anxiety and massive hormone imbalances. Because I didn’t feel depressed, just bloody furious, I didn’t recognise what I was experiencing. My wonderful doctor got me on tablets. I had some counselling and am happy to say that it got sorted. Yes I still worry about the children. But in a less bonkers way.

The thing I find most difficult, now the children are older, is the behaviour management. I was raised in quite a volatile environment, and my husband and I didn’t want this for our children. I'm trying very hard to practice a positive parenting approach. I believe that a child acts up because there is some need that isn’t being met. Therefore I don’t want to withdraw my love, with the naughty step or time out, when they need it most. I also don’t want to drum absolute obedience into them as I don’t think blind obedience is very good for anyone. I am trying to set boundaries and limits with unconditional love, and by example. However, this approach does not come naturally to me and sometimes it is really, really hard. I spend a lot of time feeling like a failure! We must be doing something right, though, as Bess is apparently beautifully behaved at school with lovely manners and lots of friends.

The best parts of being a mother: Oh my word! Despite it all, I love being a mummy! As I have previously mentioned, the friends I have found since becoming a mummy are amazing! Both my children amaze me and make me laugh every day. I cannot believe that two such beautiful, funny, crazy and clever little people come from me!

When I woke up the other morning and told Teddy I loved him, he replied, 'I love you too mummy’. Sometimes he calls for me at night time before I have gone to bed, and when I go in the room his laugh and smile at seeing me melts my heart. As I was writing this he was suddenly next to me saying, ‘pider, pider,’ and I looked down to see he was holding a little spider he'd found in the garden! (We promptly returned it to the garden and it scuttled away no worse for its ordeal!). I particularly love how Teddy adores and copies his sister and how she protects him and tries to help him.

Bess makes me so proud every day. She is a really clever little girl. She loves to read and use new words. Today on a walk she said to me, ‘We are close to the pond, but I am assuming it shan’t be frozen.’ She’s 4! Her teachers love her and she has loads of friends. Even her strong willed stubborn episodes, though hard work, are something that makes me proud. I am trying very hard not to suppress that side of her. I think it will come in handy when she’s changing the world.


I love how they adore their daddy. Watching my husband dress up as a pirate and organise a treasure hunt around the living room with his mini pirate crew is one of my favourite ways to spend a Saturday morning.

I love that we are a family. I love that just a simple time like bath time can become an event with bubbles and songs. Everything is an adventure since the children arrived. They fill each day with joy and I love them.

How has Being a mother changed you? As cheesy as it sounds, I feel that I have found myself through Motherhood. I am so fulfilled now. I used to be someone who wouldn’t speak up in staff meetings and apologized a lot. Since having children I have lead a baby singing session when it’s funding was cut and I have told our M.P in person, and in writing, just why children’s services are so important. I have questioned health proffessionals. I have become the Ambassador Co-ordinator for the charity Nelly Globe. Perhaps most amazingly I rediscovered my love of baking and cake decorating and have now set up a small cake business that I run from home. I honestly believe that had I not had children I would never have found the confidence to do these things.

I am learning and growing, as a person, as much as my children are. Being a parent is a very healing experience.

Hopes for your family: My biggest hope is that we all remain healthy and happy and continue to follow our dreams. I also really hope that my attempts to practice positive discipline pay off as the children grow. I hope they know, that whatever challenges face them in life, they can come to us for help and advice without fear of recrimination. I hope we can have open discussions about the big things they may face. I really hope they go through their entire lives knowing they are very loved and very loveable. 


What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums? I am a great believer in breastfeeding, baby wearing and co sleeping, so I want to advise all of that. However I know it’s not for everyone. I think every parent needs to educate themselves to some degree about caring for their baby, but also to follow their own instincts. What may be right for my family may not be right for yours, so do what feels right for you. They are small for such a short time, so enjoy your baby. If you feel something isn’t quite right emotionally speak to your gp; it’s completely normal and they can give you help that will make the world of difference. Go to baby groups. It may be a bit daunting at first, but everyone knows that feeling and you will make friends. Don’t worry about baby weight. It comes off eventually (though not in my pictures). Nine months on nine months off worked for me. Oh and during childbirth accept the drugs, lots of them. Pethedine is marvellous stuff.

Extra info: It has taken me eighteen months to answer these questions. I have assumed that one day Bess and Teddy will read this, so I really wanted it to be a perfect love letter to them. My desire for perfection made me freeze. Then I realised, it will never be perfect, I will never be a perfect mother. I do believe that my children are the perfect children for me though. As long as my very long answers get some of that across to them, I’m happy. At last. 

Joanna, Pablo, Nico and Lola

Name: Joanna 

Children: Pablo (3), Nico & Lola (6 months) 

Location: Levenshulme, Manchester 

Expectations of Motherhood: I guess I expected to be more of an "earth mother" type. I thought I would want to stay at home with my children until they were at least two like my sister did. My mum was a stay at home mum until I was about 11. I also kind of expected to be more soppy about my children, as I am quite a sentimental person. And I thought I'd be the sort to make my own baby food and breastfeed as long as possible. 

Reality of Motherhood: Pablo, my eldest son was a very colicky baby and wanted to be breastfed every two hours around the clock. Apparently this is normal, but that doesn't stop it from being intolerable! Especially, given that poor Pabs used to scream the whole time he was awake for the first four months of his life. He was a very light sleeper and I had to walk up and down jiggling him for at least 20 minutes after each feed to get him to sleep. Then I'd put him down and he'd wake up and I'd have to start the whole thing again. Even co-sleeping did not work. He would lie next to me and scream in my ear! He wanted to be in my arms and he wanted me to stand and pace the floor, preferably whilst listening to white noise CDs at full volume! My husband and I would fall asleep listening to the sound of Arctic winds sweeping across the icy tundra, only to be awoken one hour later. I was getting a couple of hours of sleep a night and the adage "sleep when he sleeps" used to send me into paroxysms of rage. "But he doesn't sleep!" I ranted to anyone who would listen. Daytime naps lasted maybe 20 minutes, and I had to walk him round the park in the pushchair to get him to drop off each time. Then he would wake up at the slightest noise and I would have to be on hand to jiggle the pram and get him to sleep again. There was no way I was going to be able to nap when he did. 

I was dying to stop breastfeeding but he refused to take a bottle until one day when he was seven months, I gave him fruit juice in a bottle and he liked the new flavour so much that he took to the bottle. That gave me a bit more freedom. I know breastfeeding is very beneficial to babies but the reality for mums can be a life of 24/7 slavery. At times I felt like my baby was deliberately torturing me. I wasn't depressed, but I was very angry that this whole burden was foisted on me and only me, and nobody could give me a break. Sleep deprivation made me extremely short-tempered and I would phone my mum to complain or cry down the phone. She's had it really tough, dealing with me dealing with motherhood! 

I tried taking Pablo to a cranial osteopath, I tried taking him to a specialist, thinking he had reflux, but nothing seemed to help. Then when he was 4 months he smiled and was happy for a bit of the time he was awake. That was a breakthrough. He still wanted to be held and entertained constantly but at least it was possible to make him happy! I did think motherhood would be a bit more of a doss; that I might be able to do some nice home cooking while my baby napped. In reality, I constantly had to hold and entertain him or work to keep him asleep, so there was no blissful period of watching daytime TV and meeting friends for coffee. Just drudgery! Suffice to say when Pabs was nine months old I was very glad to have the chance to go back to work. I'd been a language teacher previously, but I never fancied combining teaching with motherhood. I knew I'd end up using all my patience for other people's kids and have none left for my own! My husband had started a business about 18 months previously and was struggling with the admin side of things, so I started helping him two days a week, which went up to three days when Pablo was 19 months and four days when he was two, as the business grew. 

I probably sound like I don't even like my child, but I really really do! My love for my children is like a fact of life, it's just there, hardwired, like having brown hair (well mostly brown!) It doesn't make me weepy and sentimental but when I cuddle them I often get a rush straight to my heart. It's physical, I can actually feel it. I really like Pablo too, which is not the same as loving him. I enjoy his sense of humour, and his imagination. He is also very affectionate, and passionate and a bit of a charmer. Even when he was about eight months old he used to give me these fierce hugs, where he'd press his little face into mine so hard that it hurt! As I get to know Nico and Lola, I like them more and more too. I'm dying to know what's going on in their little heads! 

I found out I was having twins at my 12 week scan. Before then I'd noticed my bump was bigger than first time round, and I'd been joking that I was going to have triplets, little thinking that a multiple birth could really happen to me! Of course I was shocked, though not as much as my husband, Guille, whose reaction was "Oh Gooood this is the end of our lives!" I was very worried about how I'd cope, especially if I got two babies as colicky as Pablo. I felt a sense of impending doom for most of my pregnancy and I forced myself to get stuff done (potty-training Pablo, buying our first house) because I couldn't face the thought of doing it later with twins in tow. When I was about 30 weeks pregnant I received a magazine from TAMBA (Twins and Multiple Births Association) which had loads of photos of cute twins and next to each picture how many weeks they were born at: Kira and Kyle 35 weeks, Jordan and Dane, 34 weeks, Mia and Megan 32 weeks - Aargh! I realised my babies were statistically very likely to be born prematurely (i.e. in a couple of weeks' time) and I still didn't have a double buggy or any tiny baby clothes (they were likely to be titchy too). So I rushed around buying everything which was fortunate because they were born shortly afterwards at 34 weeks. 

Taking your children home for the first time: I had Pablo at home, so there was no coming home from the hospital. I just hit the ground and kept on running. My labour was very quick, 6 1/2 hours from start to finish. I was talking to my contractions going, "Come on pain, do your stuff, open me up and let Pablo into the world!" It was like leaning into the wind. I'd wanted to have pain relief, but because it was all so quick, I didn't get the chance.

It was 11pm on boxing day when I went into labour. Everyone tells you to just chillax and carry on as you were until the pain gets too much, so I just kept on watching Peep Show, then tried to go to bed, though of course I couldn't sleep. Then at about two in the morning I woke Guille up and told him he should start inflating the birthing pool. He spent ages pumping the thing up and filling it, which was no easy matter as the water tank wasn't large enough to provide sufficient hot water, so he had to run a hose from the electric shower and boil the kettle and numerous saucepan. We'd had a dress rehearsal, so we were prepared for all that. The only thing was, once it was full, he realised he hadn't put the liner in, which meant it wasn't hygienic enough to use, so he had to pump all the water out and start again! Cue some choice swearwords in Spanish! Meanwhile I was on all fours on the bathroom floor, groaning.

By the time he had refilled the pool, it was about 5am and the midwife had arrived. "Don't worry, you probably won't have baby till about lunchtime tomorrow!" she breezed as she started to examine me. 
"Can I have some gas and air?" I pleaded. 
"Maybe later," she said, "You're doing so well with your breathing!" 
With me in agony, she took my blood pressure, felt the baby's position, and lastly had a look to see how dilated I was. "Oh, I think you're about to have this baby!" she said brightly. Hmm that's what I thought! "Do you want to go down to the pool?" 
I did, so she nipped out to get her equipment, but while she was gone I got this overwhelming urge.
"I'm pushing!" I roared to Guille who was still twiddling with the birthing pool downstairs. "Get her to come back!"

Despite underestimating how far on I was, she was a very nice midwife and helped me decide when to push so as not to tear. I got on all fours and roared and thrutched, it was all very primal. Guille was pretty awed. Then Pablo was born onto the bed, looking like some kind of purple grub, but strong as hell, pushing himself along. Guille remembers feeling bad for him, thinking, "When are they going to pick him up?" He was there for seconds all alone, before he was scooped up for the skin-to-skin with me. The second midwife arrived after an hour or so (there are meant to be two of them at a home birth, one for you and one for the baby, but me and Pabs were a bit too quick off the mark.) 

After they left it was a bit weird, living in this twilight world of constant waking. He was jaundiced so I had to feed him every two hours (timed from the beginning not the end of the last feed) and midwives came to visit every couple of days to check on us. One of them made me feel awful for giving him a dummy "A breastfed baby doesn't need a dummy, you're stopping him from feeding and getting the fluids he needs." I ended up bawling my eyes out that I wasn't doing right by my baby. Although things didn't go entirely according to plan, I would definitely count Pablo's birth as a good experience. I felt in control of my body and of the whole process. 

The twins' birth was the polar opposite. Twin births are considered high risk, so it's not possible to have a home birth. I suppose you could if you were very radical and got in a private midwife, but if someone tells me my baby could be in danger, I'm not going to argue. Nevertheless, I was keen to have as natural a birth as possible, and as both babies were head down, that seemed reasonably likely. 

The labour was horrid because the contractions came so close together right from the start. They were about three minutes apart from the beginning and rapidly escalated to a state of constant agony. Meanwhile instead of crawling around and responding to the pain, I was laid on my back and strapped to a monitor while various doctors and midwives desperately tried to find a trace of Lola's heartbeat. They brought in a portable ultrasound machine and scanned me, only to find that one of my good little head down babies had migrated into a transverse position. Naughty Lola! Then they checked how I was progressing and this weird male nurse who looked like Lurch gave me an unwholesome grin and told me I was fully dilated. This precipitated a frenzy of activity. "OK mum, we need to take you to the delivery suite, we might need to do a C-Section or we might have to deliver twin 1 vaginally and twin 2 by C-section." They all call you mum, which is incredibly annoying, (I am not your mother OK?!) but seems to be NHS policy. I was raced through corridors on my wheeled bed and was just about compos mentis enough to let them know that, no thanks, I really didn't want scars in two places and could they please just get both babies out by C section if possible, ta.

Meanwhile, poor Guille was given a gown to put on, then he made a quick film on his iphone of him saying "So, this is it, ready for the birth, let's go and meet our twins!" Then when he emerged, everyone had disappeared! He found the theatre where I was, but he wasn't allowed in because it was an emergency C section, and they had to give me a general anaesthetic. I just remember there being about twelve people in the room. A doctor was trying to explain the implications of this document I had to sign, but I was in so much pain I said "It's OK, just give me the pen!" I had a carbon copy to keep and when I read it weeks later I realised I'd basically given them carte blanche to get my babies out by whatever means necessary: C-section, forceps, ventouse or any combination of the above. Under the circumstances I feel very fortunate that it went so well.

The anaesthetist warned me he would have to put pressure on my windpipe to stop me regurgitating the pizza I'd innocently troughed just a few hours previously, and I woke up hours later, shivering so much my teeth chattered and incredibly thirsty. I went into labour at about 8.00pm and the babies were delivered just after midnight. Lola weighed 4lb 4 and Nico 3lb 14. They were carted straight off to the neonatal unit, but I was informed that they were both doing well. Unlike Pablo, I didn't get to see them till the following afternoon. It was nice on the maternity ward. I've never been in such a female dominated environment, (a sorocracy!), but they do try to squeeze you out as soon as they can see you're OK. I was told five days, but after three they were already asking if I felt ready to leave. Having your babies cared for by specialist nurses for the first three weeks of their lives has a lot of advantages. eg. you can actually get some sleep and recover from the birth, instead of plunging headlong into the hideous world of sleepless nights. Visiting them, helping with tube feeds, changing their nappies, all feels like a privilege instead of a chore. I was planning to try breastfeeding them , because I thought it was only fair after Pablo had bagged himself so much boob, so I was expressing every couple of hours. They have a pumping room for this purpose, which makes you feel distinctly bovine, but you do meet lots of other friendly cows in there, and a kind of blitz-spirit reigns. It would make a great Radio 4 play. In any case, we found out that our twins were quite lucky to be born at 34 weeks, and they made very good progress. Only two weeks after they were born we moved house, which was pretty hellish, but at least we didn't have any screaming babies to deal with on removal day as they were still in hospital. 

The neonatal staff were incredibly lovely and it turned out to be a very positive experience for us. Before we brought the twins home, I roomed in with them for a night, which turned into a nightmarish breastfeeding marathon as they took it in turns to feed for two minutes before falling asleep and waking hungry five minutes later, and this throughout the whole night. It took me right back to the darkest days with Pablo, a place I was really not willing to revisit, so after that I decided to bottle-feed them a combination of expressed milk and formula. I kept it up for about two months, but my milk supply dwindled and the health visitors were acting like I was a saint, so I thought, I don't need to be that good! And promptly gave up. 

Motherhood this time round has been a very different experience and mainly because of my mother-in-law, who serendipitously retired the week the twins were born, packed up and shipped in to our new house. She's been here ever since. She has made it bearable, helping with the sleepless nights and generally giving the babies and Pablo lots of love and attention, as well as doing plenty of cooking and housework. She is great and we get on very well most of the time. She's Spanish, from Madrid and doesn't speak any English, but I am fluent in Spanish because I lived in Barcelona with my husband for a couple of years, so we can communicate just fine. It's also great that Pablo has picked up a lot more Spanish with her around, and he surprises us every day with new phrases, many of which make him sound like a granny! He'll do stuff like hold up one of Lola's new outfits and go (in Spanish) "Aw isn't this gorgeous! And look, it's got trousers as well!" 

There are moments of tension sometimes, mainly because I can be such a cow when I get no sleep. I try to be assertive and explain our way of doing things, and she tries to go along with our choices about how to bring the children up. The main thing is that there is a lot of goodwill on each side. My Mum also comes over several times a week to help out and my Dad has helped us so much in our new house, building a ramp for our enormous buggy, repressurising the boiler and all kinds of other tasks that we have no idea how to do. If we didn't have so much help from our parents we would have to get an au pair and spend a fortune on handymen, which obviously we couldn't afford.

The best/worst advice: The best advice is use your instincts, accept all help offered, and don't beat yourself up about not being perfect.

The worst advice is to do with making a month's food in advance and freezing it, and similar over-organised stuff.

The hardest parts of being a mother: Dealing with toddler tantrums and resistance to every step of daily routine, whilst simultaneously dealing with two babies with colic or teething, after a sleepless night which I know will be followed by another sleepless night. Feeling rage that my children could be so mean to me as to never let me have any sleep. Losing my temper with people I love, seeing my husband lose his temper. Never having any time for myself or quality time with my husband.

The best parts of being a mother: Making babies giggle with their cute little gurgly laughs, kissing their lovely baby skin, watching the twins start to take notice of each other, seeing my children's personalities develop. Enjoying toddler humour:" Harry Pottermus", "Grandad's a dustbin!" Enduring toddler love including bisses which are bitey kisses (and quite disgusting!) Seeing my husband being a lovely dad. Sharing a look with each other when one of the kids does something cute. Reading to Pablo and discovering some fantastic kids' stories, such as the Dr Seuss one about the pale green pants with nobody inside 'em!

Has becoming a mother changed you: I am the same person. I just have a lot more responsibilities than I ever thought possible, and I've had to become more organised and have routines whereas I've always preferred to do things randomly. I am more irascible, but I always had that in me. It just comes to the fore more because I have more triggers.

Hopes for your family: I have so many hopes for us. It's not just about being happy, you know! First up, I want everyone sleeping through the night by the end of 2013. 

I hope the kids will get on well like I do with my sisters, that they will appreciate each other's personalities and rarely fight. I want them to speak fluent Spanish and appreciate their Spanish roots and culture, I want them to survive the teenage years unscathed and unbullied. I'd like them to be more financially savvy than me. I'd like them to learn to play musical instruments. I want them to be hardworking but funny and creative. And I want them to be able to talk to us about stuff that's bothering them. So, not much to ask then!

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: It's easy to feel guilty all the time, because there's always something you could be doing better, but it's OK to be just good enough to get by, and sometimes being just good enough requires actual heroism, for which you can give yourself a little pat on the back. When you are not good enough, get over it and get on with it. You are only human after all.


Get a dustbuster, and a tumble dryer and a dishwasher. Get a cleaner if you can afford it. Cut the corners you need to cut to remain sane. 


(Lola's first roll captured during the shoot)

Mary and Eleanor (1 year on)

Name: Mary  

Child: Eleanor, 2 years 

Location: Heaton Norris, Stockport
Previous blog entry 1 year ago (click)

Life since the last blog post: I’ve now finished uni for the time-being (I was a term into an FdSc in Ecology and Conservation Management when I got pregnant and carried on part time once I’d had her). I finished with the highest grade in the year group which I’m massively proud of considering how hard I worked for it and how hard earned that work time was. 

I’ll go back in a few years when I have fewer demands on my time, but right now I’m being a full-time mum and totally loving it. It’s a mix between immensely hard work and a social whirl, as we have to plan one social activity each day to stop me going stir-crazy and give Eleanor some companionship with other children. Now she’s a bit older we can do things at home, like baking, arty stuff, gardening, etc which I enjoy too. I think the secret to being a happy mum is to enjoy the things you’re doing with your child. Otherwise you get disconnected from each other in your separate activities and I think disconnection is where behavioural problems start.

Motherhood since last being on the blog: The second year has been much easier than the first. After the first year most of my friends from antenatal class went back to work and I found myself a bit bereft. I needed adults to be with and I felt Eleanor needed the company of other children. It was probably a hidden blessing though because it got me out and about, trying to find like-minded mums. Sometime in those few months I discovered La Leche League, who were wonderful because they were totally on board with my parenting approach. Through La Leche League I’ve met some good friends and discovered a whole host of associated activities and groups.

Has motherhood changed you? I think it takes a year before you can assimilate all the changes that take place at the start of motherhood. It totally changes your relationship with your partner, I think because rather than looking towards each other all the time (figuratively speaking) you’re side by side looking towards your child. It takes a while before you can accept that I think. I’m massively lucky that my husband and I agree so well on our parenting approach. He doesn’t just say it, he uncomplainingly has her in bed with us to sleep, never implies he finds my breastfeeding a toddler bothersome, and goes along with a gentle approach to discipline. 

It also changes your attitude towards the news, the future, your friends – you find yourself thinking of the parents, family background and upbringing of sportspeople, politicians, comedians… You want to tell the man in the stationary van that’s had its engine running for the last half hour that he’s contributing to climate change our children will be left to deal with. You cry when you see images of starving children and orphans on the news. Being a stay-at-home-mum means my whole life is about Eleanor, my work, my play, my interests, so it can sometimes take a while to find a non-child related subject of conversation. You can tell who your real friends are because they persist in trying to find a new common ground when the old ones similarities have shifted!

Having a child is so life changing it creates an instant bond between you and anyone else who’s ever had one. It’s an instant conversation starter as you compare notes, commiserate and reassure. I’ve never been particularly outgoing and have always looked in awe at my own mum who makes friends wherever she goes, but since having Eleanor I’ve become a lot more confident in myself and hence with other people.

Hardest parts of being a mother: The days when I wake up feeling like the walking dead. I can’t think properly and just want to curl up on my own and sleep. Inevitably she keeps me on a short leash all day (“Mum-my! MUM-my!” “Mummy look! Mummy look! Mummy look!”) which drains my powers of organisation even more. Heaven forbid we’ve got to be somewhere on time on a day like that – my powers of negotiation rely on quick thinking so instead I just sort of drag her along behind me all day. On those days I go to bed that night feeling like a terrible mother.

Before we realised she wanted to drop her daytime sleep we’d fight to get her to sleep every day at a reasonable time and it meant the entire day had to be geared up to be as exhausting as possible so she’d go down earlier. Usually I got exhausted before her and that didn't make for happy pair! Having her still up at 4pm, but having invested so much energy into getting her to sleep and needing some time to myself… not good times!




Best parts of being a mother: When she does something that surprises me into feeling proud. When she shows she’s come on in leaps and bounds somehow when I wasn’t looking. When she shows altruism despite all my expectations.

When we do something together that just turns out hilariously; our eyes meet and we both burst out laughing. Simultaneously. When she shows interest in something I’m interested in, like when she saw a lavender bush, pinched off a leaf, smelt it and said something that sounded like lavender, or when she planted a little fleet of plant markers in the flowerbed after watching me planting out seedlings. When she tells me where lost things are: “Have you seen my phone?” “Upstairs. On the bed.”

I’m so glad I’m still breastfeeding her. I think of breastmilk as liquid love. When I see her face, the anticipation as she goes to latch on, the look of utter bliss as she tastes the first milk, the concentrated sucking followed by sleepy contentment, I feel I’m giving her the best gift I could. And she looks like that every time, as though something she has multiple times a day is a rare and special treat!

What you wish you’d known before having children: I wish I’d known that accepted norms are meaningless and that the real way to be a good mum is to work out what’s right for you and your child. I saw people doing things and heard advice and judgments, and for a long time struggled with not fitting in. I’ve never bothered to fit in when I don’t feel it’s right, but I’ve still felt the pain of failure. Now I just do whatever works and through my friends I see a wide enough range of parenting to realise that’s really what everyone does once they get comfortable. Motherhood isn’t about fitting in because it’s about a relationship between you and your child, not society.

Any more advice for mothers and expectant mums: I wish I’d done a bit more research before having her. It was all about me – my pregnancy, my birth, but I didn’t have much interest beyond that till I had her. 

A friend, Toni (http://www.the-mothers.co.uk/2012/10/toni-and-arlo-1-year-on.html) lent me The Continuum Concept when El was three months old and it had a massive impact on my whole parenting approach. Until then I’d just been cobbling together bits of advice I’d heard, none of which added up or worked. I think I only twigged after a few months that you can do things the way you want, there is no prescribed way. 

Here are websites I've found really useful:

Manchester Slingmeet http://manchesterslingmeet.com http://www.facebook.com/pages/Manchester-Sling-Meet/123976837681133 – if your baby doesn’t let you put him or her down it’s time to get a sling. Manchester Slingmeet have a hire library so you can try out different babycarriers till you find the right one.

La Leche League http://www.laleche.org.uk/pages/groups/county_list.htm – I wish I’d met these guys earlier. Meetings are just friendly discussions on a theme and you get to meet lots of other breastfeeding mums. They’re also good on attachment parenting. 



Mary and Eleanor's previous post: http://www.the-mothers.co.uk/2011/09/name-mary-child-eleanor-11-months.html

Toni and Arlo (1 year on)

Name: Toni

Child: Arlo, 2yrs

Location: Heaton Moor

Previous blog entry: http://themothersphotos.blogspot.co.uk/2011/09/name-toni-child-child-arlo-aged-1.html

The last year has been bloomin' busy. We moved not long after we had our first photos taken for the blog and then we moved again another six months later. At the ripe old age of two, Arlo has now lived in four different houses. As someone who's on her thirty third home, I know all too well how badly this state of perpetual flux can effect you when you're growing up. My parents were forever moving, and this rootlessness had definite repercussions for me, in terms of establishing friendships, and creating the stability a permanent family home can bring. I really wanted to make sure that we found somewhere completely perfect that we could happily stay in until Arlo reaches at least the Surly Teen phase and in this one, I think we've found it. 

Motherhood can be defined for me in one word - sacrifice. The absolute focus for me now is Arlo - whether in time, money or social activities. In everything I do, I think of him first and pursue his happiness with an almost military-like zeal. As a result, there's no time for being as self-preoccupied as I was before and I've also stopped being quite so bothered about what other people think. As a formerly painfully insular person who was pretty much crippled by social insecurities, this has been a massive change of seismic proportions. I spend much of my day now crawling through cardboard tunnels & blanket-covered dens and am perpetually coated in PVA or whatever substances we've been playing with that day (currently it's our homemade play dough - http://www.theimaginationtree.com/2012/04/best-ever-no-cook-play-dough-recipe.html). There's no place in my wardrobe for the high maintenance, dry-clean only types of clothes I used to adore.

While gleefully getting myself up the duff, I had no concrete concept of what I'd do after the birth. I airily assumed our family would help shoulder the burden of childcare and had vague concepts of childminders and the like. When it came down to it, the fact that my meagre window dresser's salary of peanuts couldn't support childcare costs, and our family weren't in a position to help either, came crashing down on my vague ideas of returning to work part-time like a concrete block. Living on my other half's salary is just about keeping us going; we don't bring in enough income for holidays or treats. I hate that. 

I spent my childhood watching my parents try to buy stuff with post-dated cheques and hiding from debt collectors. I had the brainwave of setting up my own business, selling the handmade things I make for Arlo to generate extra income (and also as a means of trying to keep my brain ticking!). It's a lot of fun, but definitely a temporary solution for while I'm a stay at home mum. In the long-term, I'm planning to retrain in my spare time, so I can attempt to get back into full-time work (with hopefully a somewhat better salary than what I was on before!). 

  

Probably the worst part of motherhood for me was how I wasted a lot of time in the beginning. I'd rage against the suffocating feeling of having only (on average) fourteen hours a week to myself (including time asleep, as we share a bed), and debating whether I was doing the right thing, continuing breast-feeding and co-sleeping. 

After accepting that this is only temporary things have got easier. My reasoning is that this is the only time in Arlo's life that I'll be able to ensure he feels utterly secure, and if it takes an hour of my time each night to hold him until he sleeps, then that's what he'll get. I appreciate that the 'Cry it Out' solution works a treat for billions of other people, but I'm afraid I'm a soft sod and it's not something I can personally do. Plus, I love the intimacy of having our entire family unit all in one bed. It has meant we've needed to create a Mega Bed system (using a king size bed plus an attached cot-bed), but we've got a huge bedroom so it works fine. 

The best parts of being a mother for me are all the shared moments I have with my son. His head lain on my shoulder, his arms giving me a big squeeze and a reassuring little voice whispering to me in the dark: "Mummy's got you. Mummy's ALWAYS got you" (it's what I say to him when he's hurt himself or he's scared). 

I'm hoping the strength of our relationship will be the base-line that he can build himself and his confidence upon. I hope to be my son's foundations and scaffolding, equally as much he has become my own. Motherhood has helped to ground me; it's given me the stability that I missed when I was growing up, along with the confidence that I've always lacked. With these, it's like a floodgate has opened on both my creativity and on my openness to other people, and it's been amazing.

Arlo is also my license for lunacy. We have a zillion ridiculous games we play together and are already establishing those shorthands and in-jokes that make up a family's secret vocabulary. I also spend a lot of time creating him things to play with - partly due to being massively skint, but mainly because my brain feels like it's on fire with a thousand ideas of crazy things to make. Most recently, I've stitched a pirate parrot (onto a shoulder pad with an elasticated strap), a gaudy neon superhero cape for his dressing up suitcase and hand-carved stamps for his personal stationery set. I make something pretty much daily and, after suffering a creative block throughout my entire Design degree and making very little at all, it's ironic that my creativity has finally found an outlet now thanks to my tiny Muse.

One of the things I wish I'd known beforehand was that becoming a mum would make me mentally revisit my own childhood and break my heart all over again. Both my parents were alcoholics and I had a bit of a weird upbringing that was very isolating, mainly due to their behaviour basically repelling all their friends and our family. I also never had any friends round, knowing instinctively that my home wasn't normal. I look at the sombre eyes of myself as a little girl in the very few remaining photos that exist, and I feel angry. As a parent I can see the selfishness of decisions made when bringing me up. 
Now, as (pretty much) the only man left standing from my own family, I feel like some strange kind of pioneer leading my small band of three into the uncharted territories of stability. Breaking the family cycle of disfunction and self-annihilation has taken a lot of hurt and no small amount of balls to do, but for Arlo - it was worth it. 

My two penneths of advice for other parents to-be: 

- Remember everything is finite. There are an awful lot of random stages that roll in, turning your world upside down, only to then wane out again just as fast as they arrived. 

- Say sorry. If you raise your voice at your offspring or you're in the wrong, don't be afraid to admit it. I apologise most days, I'm only human.

- Have a laughter quota. I aim to make Arlo do a minimum of one laugh per day (tickling does not count). You'd be amazed what good it does you both. A bit of silliness is good for the soul.