Nina, Ada and Edith

Name: Nina 

Children: Ada, 3 years 8 months, Edith 1 year, 8 months

Location: Ramsbottom

Expectations of motherhood: With my first, I think I thought it would be like having a doll who just did whatever I needed them to do. We'd carry on our normal lives with a cute little person to hang around with. From labour onwards that fantasy was blown away....instead I got a real baby! 

Second time I was better prepared for all the stuff I wasn't prepared for 1st time. But still, there was the shock of getting a child who was entirely different to the first. My mum told me that you spend such a long time fantasising about your baby before and during pregnancy that when your own arrives you almost grieve for the one you didn't have. 

Once you've adjusted you can't imagine a different child, until, of course, you have another. Oh yeah, I had girls too! Not one, TWO! That wasn't in my imagined family either, I just thought I'd have boys like everyone else in my family. 

Reality of motherhood: it's the hardest job I've ever had to do. EVER. The responsibility is mind blowing & often overawing. Babies and children do not do what you require them to do, and therefore I found myself challenged from the very first moment I was passed my 'beautiful' pooping, screaming, red and angry baby. 

Bam, guilt!!!!! No one really told me about the guilt. The Guilt. 'Could do better' is written in invisible ink all over my every fibre. Is it worth it? Of course. 

Another sometimes harsh reality is the seismic shift of every other relationship you hold dear. Becoming a parent changes everything. How you see your husband, friends, parents and well, everyone. I have a new found sisterhood around me, other mummies. Born from tearful, exhausted confessions of a sleep deprived new parents at baby groups, in the park, cafes, work, anywhere really. I sniffed out, with expert detective eyes, other mothers, who appeared like me, to be bumbling through; other mums that forgot obvious essential items like......oh I've forgotten already. I clung on to their stories, identifying with their anguish and admiring their strength. I made new and significant friendships. I became closer to my own mother & mother in law. 

Taking your children home: We were desperate to get home with Ada and begin our journey into parenthood. 

We asked strangers on the hospital corridors to take pictures. 

We fiddled with car seats & coats and blankets and everything it seemed. 

I held her tiny hand all the way while daddy escorted his precious cargo home. 

My head full of fears and hope, rabbit and headlights springs to mind. 

With Edith, after a near perfect re-enactment of her sister's exit from hospital we were less fearful and more confident so called at the supermarket to get supplies. We pushed our newest bundle around and my heart swelled every time someone peeped at her and gave the sigh of delight at the sight of delicious squidgy newborn. 

With my second I had a better idea of what I wouldn't do. I wanted to feel in control. I wanted to call the shots. I wanted visitors to come on my terms. I grew some bigger mummy balls. Still got slapped with a big dollop of guilt though. 

Best/worst advice: All my best advice has come when I felt a person is being real. I felt other mums loosen up when I've shared yet another mummy fail and not edited my experiences and advice to be that of a perfectly calm and rational earth mother (because I am not one of those it transpires). Who knew? 

It seems I am fairly good at being a bit crap at it all but I tried to laugh. Parenting is not a competition, there are no prizes (other than your own adorable bundle of joy of course) so if you're gonna turn it into one, I don't wanna hear. Tell me a story about peeing the bed on the first evening postpartum & slipping in your own puddle of piss while your baby is trying to latch on to your elbow then I'm all ears. 

The hardest parts of being a mother: The fear and guilt. Learning to laugh is a life saver. The realisation that this shit is real for the next 20 years is scary as hell. Also, 2nd time as a large cloud crept up around me the hardest thing was seeking help, but it was the best thing I could have done. 

Has motherhood changed you? Aside from the physical changes, the extra 2 stone I carry and a bladder with a mind of its own, the changes are positive. I may no longer have a social life, clean clothes, a tidy house, disposable income, time or sleep but I do have 2 awesome little angels. Two sisters who throw their arms around each other & declare 'huggle', who pull each other's tops up to blow rasp berries on their tummies, who cry if the other is hurt, who feed each other & fall out, who hold hands, who watch each other's backs. These 2 little humans are the best replacements for anything I had before.

Hopes for your family? I wish for my family to be able to find laughter and love at the centre of everything. I wish for our girls to grow into citizens with a conscience & desire to take part. I hope my girls grow up to respect themselves & and others. I hope my girls know how loved they are. I hope my girls continue to watch each other's backs. I hope my girls are never afraid, but if they are, to come to us.
Advice for new mums: All the obvious stuff, enjoy every nano-second, take loads of pics blah de blah. But really, be yourself, remember who you are and don't try & be super mum. Do what's right for you and your family and trust your gut mumma instincts always. Ask for help and remember, everything is never usually as it may seem. Don't look at others and compare, look at your child and their awesomeness and use that as a measure of how well things are going.

Elisa and Nova (revisited)

Name: Elisa

Child: Nova-Millie, 18 months

Location: Warrington

Previous blog post: http://www.the-mothers.co.uk/2014/01/elisa-and-nova.html

Life since the last blog post: Crazy, amazing, stressful, beautiful. When Nova was 13 months old I returned to work, and I must admit it's not been easy juggling motherhood with a career. After some time we've found our routine now, but still - every day - I cannot wait to hurry home for cuddles with my little ray of sunshine. Nova is an amazing girl, full of giggles and smiles, and she is a real pleasure to be around. She is a real charmer, too, and gets a lot of attention from everyone she meets, friends or strangers. I love watching her learn new things every day, and Nova has also helped me to be the best I can be: more patient, enjoying the little things - every day. I wish I could spend all my time with her, but I have to admit sometimes it is really nice to be able to enjoy a cuppa at work in peace. At the moment I do not feel there is a lot of room for me-time - it takes a lot to keep the house tidy, look after babba and dog, and work. But I know it won't be like this forever and one day I will really miss those little arms reaching out for me, and the small sticky fingerprints all over the windows. I wouldn't change it for all the riches in the world.

Motherhood since last being on the blog: I've definitely become more confident as a mother. I think at first you really are sort of lost, but with time you realise it is just a natural thing and you are in charge - you make the decisions that are best for your child, because you know her or him better than anyone else does in the world. And as I already said, Nova has changed me for the better - I want to be a good role model for her. 

Has motherhood changed you? Completely. You have a different outlook on life, on everything really. In the past, I didn't pay that much attention to everything that was going on around me. Now, there is Nova's future to consider. I've become a lot more alert to environmental issues, political issues - I want to make the world a better place for Nova's sake. I know it sounds cheesy, but it really is true.

Hardest parts of being a mother: The tiredness, and the fact that you have so little time for yourself. Most days I cannot stay up past 9pm, and my friends have been making fun of me when they come over for a glass of wine or to watch a sleep and I've fallen asleep on the sofa, again. And everything seems to be a rush - when Nova sleeps I try to whizz through the house, cleaning, washing, preparing meals. My only real time that I have to myself is when I go boxing with my friend twice a week - it's become a really important thing to me where I get to let off steam and do something for just me. I also find it hard to battle with the constant guilt - do I really put my best effort into everything? Is it ok to be on my iPad for a few moments while Nova is playing by herself? Should I be with her rather than care about a career? Am I being lazy if I give her the pasta dish I made for the second time that day?

Best parts of being a mother: The cuddles, the smiles, the giggles - being loved and needed by this beautiful little person that you have created. Every morning Nova wakes up with a smile. I'm so proud of her for every little achievement she makes - starting to crawl, taking her first steps, saying her first words. She is my world and it makes it all worth it - it is those moments that make you forget everything else. 

What you wish you’d known before having children: Everything will be ok. 

Nova didn't crawl until she was 15 months old, and following a horrendous meeting with a health visitor for Nova's 1 year check up, I walked out of there convinced it was my fault as I hadn't practiced enough tummy time with her. The health visitor put a lot of negative thoughts in my head, but I soon realised that Nova was just fine and doing things in her own time. Just listen to your gut instinct - you will KNOW when there is something to be concerned about. You are the mum, stick by your guns.

Any more advice for mothers and expectant mums: You will never have this moment with your children again - tomorrow they'll be a little bit older than they are today. Today is a gift, breathe and notice, smell and hold them, study their faces and little feet. Pay attention to today.

Laura and Rae

Name: Laura

Child: Rae, 6.5 months

Location: Reddish

Expectations of Motherhood: I expected motherhood to be really, really hard. I work with families who find every day a struggle and often feel they cannot cope. There is also a history of post natal depression in my family and so I was constantly worried this could happen to me. 

Saying that, because of this I think it made me more prepared, and encouraged me to make a conscious effort to have a relaxed approach in my pregnancy, a kind of what will be will be. Luckily I had a very easy time growing a bump. I was full of energy, and pretty much could do almost everything that I could do before. I play music and wanted the little peanut to hear all the beautiful sounds, so I kept gigging and playing and loved that she was a part of it already.

I think because I found pregnancy relatively easy, and could juggle work/life/fun, I thought I could do all that when 'bump' came along. I knew there would be tiredness, and I'm a complete nightmare when I'm tired - a right moody arse - but I also knew that I had brilliant family and friends around me and knew other mummies with babies, so I imagined I would go with the flow and still keep my ways with our new addition. 

Reality of Motherhood: I spent a week in hospital as Rae had jaundice, and I was poorly from the birth. I didn’t have the feelings of love and devotion when little Rae arrived, just sheer exhaustion, soreness and wanting things to get back to some kind of ‘normality.’ It was like I had been separated into tiny fragments and hadn’t got a clue how I was going to get back together again.

I was doing 24 hour babysitting except there was no end and somehow I had to convince myself that in actual fact this bundle was our baby. My friend described to me its like falling out of a plane; you have no idea what may happen in the next minute or hour or what the hell is going on, and only you can make sense of the fall as every experience is different.

I couldn’t call her Rae for a while. We called her ‘monkey,’ ‘baby’, ‘wriggler’ and even called her by our nieces names. We couldn’t say mummy or daddy either, at one point Seth called himself uncle! The concept of creating our own family unit alongside a name that didn’t even exist in the world a few weeks ago was really weird and certainly took some getting used to.

The one thing I hadn’t imagined is how I would feel physically; my wardrobe looked like it belonged to someone else and I couldn’t look at my body for weeks. I felt isolated and alienated from it. No one had mentioned this to me, it was all about the tiredness and emotional upheaval and so it was a shock. This went hand-in-hand with breastfeeding. I simply could not get my head around it. With Rae feeding almost every hour it was too much, physically and mentally. I convinced myself that I was a bad mother if I stopped, that surely this is the one thing that all mothers want to do and so I'm lucky to be able to. After 8 weeks of this debate and becoming more and more unhappy I made the decision to stop, and although the guilt is still there, I remind myself, 'Happy mother, happy baby.'

Taking your child home for the first time: We left the hospital at midnight as I was so desperate to get home we begged the staff to let us go the moment we knew Rae was better. I remember going outside being a strange experience; I'd felt completely safe in the confinements of the hospital building but now in the fresh air the thought of feeding, changing, sleeping in our own house freaked me out. I even felt like I had forgotten how to dry my hair or drive as my head was in bits. When we got back we were obsessed with checking she was breathing, checking her constantly until we were exhausted and had convinced ourselves we were capable of keeping this little monkey alive. 

The best/worst advice: The best advice I ever got was there simply is no right way. My decisions will be judged differently depending on who the person is anyway, so I listen to their views, take what I want from them then go with my instinct.


I have found the support and understanding from my family and friends incredible. Not just the practical help, but just asking the question, ‘How are you feeling today?’ has saved me from the brink of despair many a time. And the encouragement that I can do it. When someone says to me, ‘You're doing a brilliant job,’ I almost burst into tears and want to hug them like mad because it truly means a lot and sometimes you really need to hear it.

The hardest parts of being a mother: The hardest part for me is that there's no break. Even if we get a babysitter, Rae’s well being is constantly on my mind. She comes first, then everything else after. It took me a while to get used to this responsibility and in the beginning I almost shied away from it, thinking I could continue my world as it was before. The adjustment is far greater than I imagined.

The criticism from strangers is annoying. A woman in a shop asked me what my baby was called and when I told her, she stated, 'That’s a boy’s name,' and, 'where are the pink clothes?,' and, 'in fact a better spelling would be R-I-A.' By the time I was leaving the supermarket she had decided to call my daughter Ria.



The best parts of being a mother: When Rae first wakes up in the morning and I go into her room, she goes nuts. Her happy face and kicking legs makes me start the day with a smile, no matter what is going on. I can see she is learning so many things everyday and it is amazing to watch. The love grows everyday and I'm convinced there is no end to how big it can get.

I am learning from her too as I see her wonderful personality grow. Rae is such a chilled out baby and takes life as it comes, nothing seems to faze her and she is so bubbly and fun. I'm proud of her and love imagining what the future may hold.

Has becoming a mother changed you? The one thing I realised is that each day that I worry what could go wrong with our daughter, or anything else for that matter, is another day that I am missing our baby change and grow. Living in the present moment is never something I have been very good at - I'm a big planner and worrier - but once Rae came along, just ‘being’ seems to be the best and sometimes only way for me.

Hopes for your family: The three of us have gone from strength to strength in the new world we have created. Rae is certainly a daddy’s girl and the light in her eyes when he comes home is just gorgeous. Everyday holds new trials and tribulations and sometimes is just complete bonkers, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Admit your feelings to your partner. Me and my husband were sat on the couch, shattered with bags as big as bricks under our eyes, and we were starving because we couldn’t be arsed to go and get any tea (Sleepless nights getting to us then!). I looked at him and said, 'Is it bad to say I don’t love Rae yet?'  He looked at me and said, 'I feel the same, all we do is feed, sleep, feed, sleep. But it's OK, we will. Its like a new relationship isn’t it? It takes time.' I felt a million miles better to know that that we were both in the same position, I thought there was something terribly wrong with me and what a terrible mum I was if I wasn’t totally in love with the wriggling milk machine.

Definitely store some food in the freezer for when you get home with baby. We lived off the homemade snacks we'd prepared earlier and it made the first few weeks a lot easier.

Carla and Millie

Name: Carla Nuttall

Child: Millie, 22 months

Location: Manchester

Expectations of Motherhood: I expected motherhood to be the most amazing thing that could ever happen to me and in the same breath the most terrifying. Amazing because I‘ve always known that I wanted to be a Mum and while there are lots of other things I’ve wanted to achieve, becoming a Mum was by far and away my biggest ambition. Terrifying because that seemed like a huge weight of expectation and it involved a big element of the unknown, despite the swathe of books and information thrown at me.

On a basic level, I expected I would be tired, that my life would never be as carefree, that I would come to appreciate my parents even more than I already did and that I would soon know what ‘you’ll understand when you’ve got kids of your own’ actually meant.

Reality of Motherhood: In reality, I could never have imagined just how incredible becoming a mother would be. This was something of a major relief because I was starting to worry that if I felt about motherhood the way I felt about pregnancy, I’d be in for a rocky ride.

Aside from those truly lovely movements when I could feel ‘cub’, as I dubbed Millie at the time, kicking and rolling about, I really didn’t like being pregnant at all. All this talk of ‘glowing’ was not something I experienced. All I did was worry from day one to the two weeks past my due date when Millie was finally evicted from the Big Mother house. And it was a very big, tired and grumpy house at that point, let me tell you. 

I thought that once she arrived all of the worry and responsibility I’d felt during pregnancy would be shared equally with my husband, Mike. While that is certainly true now, in those early days, I hadn’t quite bargained for just how much the buck would stop with me.

Millie would cling to me like a lovely, snuggly limpet and she seemed to feed in a never-ending cycle. Judging by how much food she can put away now, I’m surprised I ever managed to keep up with her demands!

I remember eagerly awaiting Mike’s return from work so I could have a bit of a break, drink tea while it was still hot or just go to the loo on my own. But Millie would cry until I came back and the little break I’d been holding out for all day never materialised. I was the centre of her universe and while that was utterly amazing to me I’d be lying if I said I didn’t shed a few weary tears from time to time at the sheer unrelenting responsibility.

I guess I could have let the pair of them to get on with it. They’d have been absolutely fine of course, but at the time I just couldn’t do it. 



Taking your child home for the first time: I will never forget bringing Millie home. What with a day spent on the induction ward, the drawn out labour and then the emergency c-section and recovery, I’d been stuck in the hospital for what felt like an age. I was itching to bust out and I managed to make good my escape after a few days. We delicately bundled Millie into her car seat and Mike carefully and slowly carried her out to the car. I followed behind, clutching my stomach as I gingerly shuffled along. My insides felt like jelly. Every. Step. Hurt.

With Millie strapped in securely and me watching her like a hawk for signs of I have no idea what, we drove all the way home at what felt like about 5 miles an hour. Just as well because I have never experienced a stretch of speed bumps as agonizing before or since.

I was absolutely over the moon to get Millie home. I’d been imagining this moment for so long and to finally have her snuggled up in her moses basket next to the bed is a feeling and an image I will never, ever, forget.

My warm glow was of course rudely shattered when Millie proceeded to scream solidly for a few hours that night. My milk hadn’t come in and I had literally no idea what to do. I was also very restricted with how much I could bend and move about so felt even more helpless. Thankfully, she finally got a few drops of milk and promptly sparked out. I have never been so happy to see anyone at my front door as I was to see the community midwives the next morning. I hadn’t realised how reassuring the hospital had been and more importantly, how utterly genius it was to have a bed that could lift up and down at the touch of a button, no bending required. Damn C-section. 

Best advice: Join an NCT group. This has to be by far and away the best advice I got. Not for the content of the course, which I found a bit woolly, but for the people I met. Even if you have friends who have recently given birth, in some cases just a few months earlier, it is not quite the same as having a group of girls going through what you’re going through at exactly the same time.

On the more challenging days, they have been some of the most supportive people I could turn to and have got me through with kind words, a piece of cake or just a knowing smile and a hug. We have never tired of hearing each other’s birth stories and will relish in the re-telling over a few raucous glasses of wine. These are the girls who humour me as I witter on like the evangelical baby bore I know I’ve become. Put it like this, I wouldn’t be cross with a single one of them if, mid-joke, their pelvic floor suddenly failed them and they peed on my couch. I’m not saying this happened, mind. Except that it did.

The other brilliant advice I got, was: “It doesn’t get easier, it just gets different”. This was great because I no longer saw Millie’s development as a linear progression but accepted it for the roller coaster it was. There is no magic moment when you’ve suddenly cracked it all. Well there is, but it lasts about a day before they’ve thrown something new at you and changed the rules of engagement entirely.

Worst advice: Anything sleep related:

“Sleep as much as you can before the baby comes”. Sheer cruelty. I’d have loved to have made the most of it but I couldn’t sleep for love nor money in the run up to D-day. In the last three months my insomnia was so bad I only slept for three to four hours a night. Excellent training as it turned out.

“Sleep when they sleep”. As if! When I got a little breather during the times I put her down to sleep, I just couldn’t have wasted the opportunity to shower or tend to some of the myriad jobs around the house. Anything just to get up, move about a bit, or make myself feel human.

“Shush pat”. The time and energy I wasted on this and other sage advice on sleeping forums, blogs, books and the like. Millie slept well for the first three months, was an utter nightmare sleeper for the next three months and then went back to sleeping well again. It was just another development milestone and while good practice like establishing a bedtime routine is something I would definitely do again, I would be more inclined to trust my instincts next time and give myself a break. 

The hardest parts of being a mother: Never being off-duty. It really is 24-7. There are those days when I’d just like the freedom of not having to think about what needs doing next. 
One of the hardest things I found was preparing to return to work. It seemed like my outlook on life had fundamentally changed and I just couldn’t imagine going back to ‘normal’ life and leaving Millie with someone else. I think the situation was made harder knowing that I would be going into a new job, which seemed totally terrifying.

At around five to six months old, the height of Millie’s no sleeping phase, I was preparing for job interviews. To this day, I have no idea how I managed it. My self-confidence was at rock bottom, I had no work clothes that fitted my strange new, breastfeeding shape, I was seriously tired and I’d cried looking around every nursery I’d visited.

Thankfully, I found an amazing nursery and a part-time job that made returning to work a little less scary. The anticipation is always worse than the reality and before long I was into a nice routine and felt like I’d struck a decent balance. I still have days when I cry dropping Millie off, it just creeps up on me from time to time. And I guess that’s one of the other hard parts of motherhood – guilt.

I feel guilty when I’m not with her and I miss her. Guilty when I’m with her but think I’m not giving her enough quality time. Guiltiest of all, if I dare to admit that some days going to work is a relief because sometimes it is so much easier than dealing with a fiercely independent toddler who would rather jettison herself under a table than have you be so bold as to help her get dressed.
Finally, one of the hardest things has been keeping my patience and dignity throughout the many times when I’ve left the house with my clothes on back to front or inside-out. The times when I’ve been accidentally scratched, hit in the face with a plastic doll, pinched on the boob, or been offered an avalanche of well-meaning, but unsolicited advice. But most of all it is dealing with the sight of yet another squashed, mouse dropping-like raisin. These shrivelled little interlopers have taken over my home, bag, car and on occasion, underwear.

The best parts of being a mother: Where to begin?! Millie being born safe and sound has to be the best moment of my entire life. The midwife put her on me skin to skin and she wriggled straight up and latched on for a feed. I can’t explain how it made me feel. I remember properly gasping with awe and amazement and thinking how much I loved her in what seemed like an instant. It still makes me cry to think about it.

In the early days, the best bits were the smell of her head, her snuffling noises and swaying around the living room singing to her. It was watching all her changing facial expressions and seeing her grow seemingly overnight from a baby into the most hilarious toddler.

These days, the thing I love the most is being able to have little conversations with her. The facial expressions and sayings she comes out with have me in stitches. When she tells me that she loves me or puts her arms around my neck and gives me a big squeeze of a hug, I could burst with happiness. 

But most of all, it is so much fun watching her little character develop, her infectious cackle, her funny little waddle and hip-shaking dance moves. And just lately, seeing how she interacts and socialises with her cousins and friends. 

Has becoming a mother changed you? Absolutely. My life feels like it has gone from black and white to technicolour. Not just because of everything that Millie brings to it but also in the way it has changed my outlook on life. I understand now just how unconditional and whole my Mum and Dad’s love is for me and I love and appreciate them all the more for it.

I’ve found that I want to take much more of an active interest in my local community, I guess driven by a desire to make Millie’s world a better place to live in.

I’ve become much more organised and efficient. I’ve discovered that what I used to think I could achieve in a day now only takes an hour or so and is usually done a good three hours before I used to crawl out of bed with a hangover.

Hopes for your family: All I want is for Millie to grow up having the same love, security, support, opportunities and outright fun that I had growing up. I’d like to see her develop into a healthy, happy and confident young lady with a dose of mischief thrown in for good measure. I’d like her to value the importance of family and good friends and I hope she’ll consider me and her Dad to be two of her best friends (after the scornful and withering looks of the teenage years, obviously).

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums? 

Definitely join NCT or another antenatal group.

Also, the Mums who seem like they’ve got it all together are just the ones who are getting the sleep. So give yourself a break and be kind to yourself. Your baby knows you are the best Mum in the World… even if you do have your clothes on inside out.

Carla has a blog at http://thoroughlymaraudingmillie.blogspot.co.uk/