Sarah and Oliver

Name: Sarah

Child: Oliver, Age 2

Location: Altrincham

Expectations of Motherhood: From a young age I knew one of my ambitions in life was to have a family, and at 25 we decided we wanted to start planning for a baby of our own. I had lots of worries initially about becoming pregnant, mainly due to other horror stories I had heard or been told. How would I cope putting on weight? Will I cope with morning sickness? Will I cry lots? Will I go shopping and leave my baby in a changing room? Will I know what to do??? .....To help with all my worries I insisted my mum bought me a book to help teach me what to do (very naive!).

We were both under the impression that it could take us a couple of months to a year to conceive, mainly due to a few of our friends having difficulties. To our surprise I was pregnant within the first two months of trying and therefore felt very blessed.

It was strange; I didn’t feel any different. I thought I was one of the lucky ones who wouldn’t suffer from morning sickness. How wrong was I! At around 2/3 months I was sick religiously every morning as soon as I woke up, but felt back to normal straight away. That was unless I ate my favourite foods - curry and pizza - but I soon learnt it was best to steer clear of them for the remainder of my pregnancy. After a month or so my morning sickness passed and the rest of my pregnancy was perfect, luckily I had no problems at all and bloomed!



We decided we couldn’t wait for 9 months to find out the sex of our baby, so jumped at the chance to find out during our scan. I had my heart set on having a baby girl, so when we were told we were having a boy I wasn’t sure how to feel. However, seeing him move around during the scan I instantly fell in love and felt so lucky to have such a healthy child.

Reality of motherhood: I couldn’t bring myself to write my ‘birthing plan’, I didn’t know what I wanted or how I would cope with the pain? I decided to leave it for a while and maybe I would have more of an idea nearer the time. The idea of taking lots of drugs made me nervous in case I would embarrass myself, or if they made me sick. Oh, and I hate needles!

Everyone I bumped into advised me that I would be overdue and would need inducing as my bump hadn’t dropped, and I agreed due to the feet constantly digging in to my ribs. So when my waters broke a week early at 6am, I cried with shock... I still hadn’t written my birthing plan, but it turned out that it didn’t matter.

Having the perfect pregnancy was no indication that I was going to have a smooth labour and delivery, to my disappointment. I coped well with the pain using a tens machine (best invention ever!) and gas and air but it became clear after 22 hours of labour and lots of pushing that I needed help to deliver. I was then taken out of my lovely birthing room with a pool and pretty lights, into a very sterile delivery room, full of people! Looking back it makes me cringe thinking about how many people were stood discussing my private parts and what to do to help me, I don’t even like getting undressed in front of my own mother!

At the time I was so tired that I wasn’t too upset when I was advised I needed an episiotomy and Ventouse delivery (although I soon wished I had pushed a lot harder!). Oliver was finally delivered and the first words out of the surgeons mouth was ‘BIG BABY!’, I just remember thinking, 'wow he has massive thighs!'

After a lot of pain and a few hours sleep I bonded instantly with Oliver and felt like I knew what I was doing.. What was I worried about? 

I was lulled into a false sense of security thinking, 'this is easy', but it didn’t last long. After the midwives insisting, ‘breast is best’ I didn’t want to let anyone down and gave it a try. The ward nurses were not much help when I expressed concern that Oliver was feeding for a long time (hours) and still didn’t seem satisfied. I was told, ‘Oh it’s normal’, but after the first weigh in at home, we realised I wasn’t able to give Oliver enough milk and that we needed to bottle feed, which explained the 48hours we'd had with no sleep. I instantly felt anger at the midwives who'd initially brainwashed me into breastfeeding, and the ward nurses that I'd asked for help.

It quickly hit us how rough sleep deprivation was, and suffering with low iron and pain it was a hard few days. Why oh why do they not tell you about what happens after delivery in your antenatal classes?

As soon as we started to bottle feed Oliver he seemed a little more content, but we were still convinced that something wasn’t quite right. I couldn’t put Oliver down without him screaming, I learnt how to go to the toilet/eat meals/wash-up, all whilst holding a baby. His symptoms got worse towards around two months; he would scream for milk and then scream even louder after an ounce. We spent hours researching his symptoms and ruled out colic, but as soon as I read the symptoms for Reflux, I knew instantly that is what he had. After one tearful Sunday morning for both me and Oliver, I decided enough was enough, and we drove him to A&E. Finally after a few nurses trying to convince us he had colic and it was ‘normal’, a lovely doctor listened and diagnosed silent reflux. Two or three days later on Gaviscon we had our perfect settled baby back!

Now this was sorted and under control we started to build a routine and settled into our family life. Oliver quickly adapted to our strict routine and luckily slept through from 3 months, and more often than not we would have to wake him in a morning.

Our first year after all the initial troubles was amazing, we didn’t have to change our lives too much as Oliver just fitted in around our lives. Again we came back down to the reality of parenthood with a bang when it was time for me to start back at work and Oliver at nursery. The germs hit hard! After 26 years of avoiding tonsillitis, Oliver kindly passed it on to me. As a mother you don’t have time to be ill, so after the third throat infection and numerous blood tests to find out why I was so ill I was signed off work for a week. In between dealing with my illnesses we had a scare with Oliver, who was rushed into hospital as a gland in his neck had got infected and they needed to give him antibiotics quickly through a drip. From this moment on he was poorly every other week for around 3/4 months - the staple part of his diet felt like antibiotics.

Taking your child home for the first time: The 15 minute journey home felt like the scariest drive we had ever been on (even though we probably drove about 10 MPH the whole way back). We avoided every single pot hole and drove the long way round to avoid all the speed bumps. We made it home safely! The walk from the car into our home felt like I’d run a marathon and I instantly broke down in tears as soon as we made it to the front door. Looking back I think these were more tears of relief to be home (and baby blues) rather than the pain.

We made a conscious decision to spend our first couple of nights in the lounge for a number of reasons which now seem a bit more neurotic rather than sensible. We were luckily enough to have my mother who spent the first week with us, cooking, cleaning and offering support. I was therefore able to try and concentrate on looking after my health and catching the odd few hours sleep whilst I knew Oliver was being watched over.

The midwife advised that due to the lack of milk, Oliver was becoming jaundice. We were convinced he was a ‘nice’ colour, looking back at pictures we realise his nice tan wasn’t from spending a week or so in the Maldives. I was unable to go out for his first outing to get some fresh air and sun light and this broke my heart. After being so close to your baby for 9 months and then giving birth, the feeling when you have to let go for an hour or so is the worst in the world initially, but it soon gets easier.



The best advice: Without a doubt this has to be from a colleague at work (mother of three), make sure daytime is noisy/bright and night times are quiet, low lit and no fuss. You hear horror stories of baby’s routines getting mixed up; awake all night and asleep all day. We were determined that this was not going to happen to us, and so we started a routine from day one of being home. Our night time routine was the same each night - bath, bottle in a quiet room with no fussing, then bed. After a while it paid off and to this day we have had no issues with Oliver waking at night and wanting to play.

Also, a health visitor advised me at around 3 months to ensure we put Oliver in bed awake, so he can learn to fall asleep himself. This was hard for a while due to reflux preventing us from laying him down straight after a bottle, and most newborns tend to fall asleep straight after a bottle. By 5 months we were confident that the reflux was under control and that we needed to teach Oliver to go to sleep alone in bed. This involved a tough few weeks of training, sometimes hours stood on the landing in and out of his room, but he quickly grasped the idea and bed times are now fun and easy (well until you have to chase them round the bathroom to get a nappy on).

I worry sometimes that we have been a little too strict with routine as Oliver does show quite strong OCD tendencies. He cannot stand to have any dirt on himself or clothing and loves to clean! If we don’t clean his hands quick enough when he requests, there can be tears. He has become that fussy he has even got out of the bath due to a floating piece of fluff. A lot of time lately has been spent trying to teach him that you can get messy and still be okay (lots of finger painting).

Another (sorry I have a few), is to go to an antenatal class. I had a great support group from the ladies I met during my classes, and two years on we still meet regularly with and without our babies. Speaking to other mums helps you quickly learn that what you are going through is normal and that they are going through the same thing.

Worst advice: Books... no book can tell you how your child should act, what times they want milk and how you should feel. My first worries about not knowing what to do were the same things all mothers-to-be feel, but as soon as you hold your baby you know instantly what to do. You quickly learn what each cry or moan means and how to deal with it best.

Breastfeeding – Don't be forced into something you are not comfortable doing, of course it has its benefits but if it makes your life hell you need to decide if that’s how you want to spend the first 5/6 months.

The hardest parts of being a mother: This has to be the feeling of when your child is upset or hurt. The instinct you instantly have to protect them from anything is astonishing; the first few tears you share with them, but then soon you learn they need your reassurance and love rather than a blubbing wreck. I think because I’m so strong around Oliver now I cry at the slightest thing when he’s not around, usually One born or Eastenders.

When Oliver first started walking/running I used to hover round his every move to be there if he fell. I’ve now realised that I won’t always be there to protect him and therefore he needs to learn how to deal with different situations himself. If he falls over now and isn’t hurt, he quickly gets up, wipes himself down and carries on.

The best parts of being a mother: Above all the love you feel for them and seeing how they feel for you. Our family now is so close and we all rely on each other for everything. One of the best feelings is becoming a family - just the 3 of us. Everything feels complete now. Life before Oliver was amazing, but with Oliver it’s even better. I cannot describe how proud we feel watching our child as he grows and develops; it has also been great for us seeing the world from his tiny eyes. Watching the joy on his face when he masters how to do something or sees something or someone he loves.

I always knew I would be a good mother, but I don’t think I knew just how much I would love just hanging out with him. He has turned into my best friend and never fails to brighten my day with his smiles, hugs and sloppy kisses. Everyday he does something new that shocks us or makes us giggle. Sometimes we just look at each other and smile and say, ‘he’s amazing isn’t he?’ still unsure how we both made such a social, loving, kind and funny young man.

Has becoming a mother changed you: I’m sure everyone will answer yes to this, it has to.... it’s a massive lifestyle change, going from spending all your free time in the pub, to staying home and worrying about someone other than yourself. I used to live for the weekend to go out with our friends, but now I can’t wait to get into my PJ's and snuggle on the sofa, or play football in the park.

Hopes for your family: My main hope is that we all stay healthy and happy and carrying on enjoying life. We are quite relaxed about the future at the moment, and are on a bit of an adventure. Every day is so different and with us being in the ‘terrible’ two’s stage we are never bored (although it’s not been too terrible so far, touch wood). We would like to have a sibling for Oliver, but want to enjoy our time with him until he’s ready to share our love. One of my main hopes is that we always have a strong bond and we continue to be best friends.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Trust your own instincts, don’t put any extra pressure on yourself by reading books or worrying about what they should and shouldn’t being doing. Your child will grow in their own time with your support and nurturing.

Having a child is going into the unknown for most families and that is part of the fun, you will find your own way and find what works for you. You may have bad days when you question everything and everyone, but it’s more rewarding than you will ever imagine. The love you feel for them is boundless.

Little tips - buy a practical changing bag; buy a coat with a hood (umbrellas and prams don’t mix); buy Annabel Karmel’s book for weaning; always take spare clothes on trips out; oh and get used to mess.

Liz and August

Name: Liz

Child: August, 8 months

Location: Manchester

Expectations of Motherhood:
I knew it would be tough, but to be honest I couldn't actually picture myself as a mother so it all seemed a bit delusional. I tried not to think about it too much and just hoped a healthy baby would appear at the end.

Reality of Motherhood:
The first 6 weeks............... horrific! I could not believe nobody had pulled me to one side and warned me about this while I was pregnant.

Obviously the sleep deprivation is a killer, but absolutely nothing prepares you for this. You would never be put in a situation (unless as a form of torture) where you are woken every 2 hours. It was around week 2 that I realised I would not be having more than a 3 hour block of sleep for quite a while! This would be bad enough on its own, but add to it a bruised and battered body, plus learning to breast feed and its even worse!

Now 8 months in...... motherhood is still exhausting but so much fun! 

I feel so privileged to spend everyday with August.

Taking your child home for the first time:
After spending three days in a shared room with 4 other women (one of whom was in labour!) with August screaming the place down and demanding a feed every 30 minutes I was ready to get the hell home! My partner and dad picked us up and it felt like a getaway car. We shoved all my stuff into a bag, grabbed the baby and fled! I was sure they'd made a mistake and if we weren't quick enough they would change their minds and be after us.

As soon as we got home I started cleaning.....I went into hospital on the Monday morning and didn't get home til the Thursday evening, so nothing was how I left it. Two grown men had been living at home while I was away so let's just say standards had slipped a bit!

The best/worst advice:
The worst advice was from a breast feeding counsellor who said, 'if it hurts your doing it wrong'. I did everything I was supposed to but it still hurt. A lot! 

I stuck with it and after about a month things fell in to place. I think August and I were just getting used to something that was new to both of us.

The hardest parts of being a mother:
No matter how much help you have or are promised, in reality it all comes down to you. I think it was around the third month I suddenly realised, 'Oh my god I am the one who has to do everything!'

The best parts of being a mother:
The bond I have with August right now. 

I know as she gets older this will be split more equally between her father and I, but while she is still a baby and so dependant on me I'm enjoying the rewards of being the apple of her eye!

Has becoming a mother changed you?
In some ways yes but these could be temporary as it's still the first year. She is my number one and it can be hard to concentrate on much else. The idea of going back to work at some point scares the hell out of me and I'm lucky that I can take my time a bit. I do look back on things I used to worry about and think, 'WOW, you had way too much time to think about things!'

Hopes for your family:
I just want to raise a happy, healthy, and confident little girl and hope that I can be there as much as possible for her.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums?In the first few weeks only surround yourself with people who will be 100% supportive of you. You will most probably be exhausted, depressed, highly strung and extremely emotional, so anyone judgemental need not apply!

Danielle and Lincoln

Name: Danielle 

Child: Lincoln, 2yrs 

Location: Salford 

Expectations of Motherhood: The only word I could use to describe my expectation of motherhood is ‘unrealistic’. I relied on ideals that had been pieced together through memories of my own childhood, through films I had watched and the practicalities from books I had read. I thought I’d be the doting mother in the rocking chair, gazing lovingly at my little bundle and trying to soak in every second. We were the first of our friends and siblings to have a baby, so there we were stepping into the unknown - maybe this was why I was so unrealistic. 

I wasn’t worried at all really, thinking I’d take things in my stride. I really hated the fact that it seemed people were trying to put a dampener on the whole experience by constantly reminding me that I was about to enter the world of no sleep. I just thought to myself, ‘I know it’s going to be hard but I will cope!’.




Reality of Motherhood:
I will break this down into the stages I went through:

The beginning (first 6 weeks): Well, I won’t lie… I hated it. I had a long labour where I didn’t sleep for 3 days, which set me up for a torturous time. The one thing that I didn’t think about when I was doing all my planning was the mess my body would be in. Hormones everywhere, wobbly body, sitting on blow up rings to avoid the pain and then there’s the breastfeeding which never got easier for me I’m afraid. Lincoln was a very sicky baby and barely slept during these weeks which meant he wanted feeding a lot. Most of the time he would feed through my tears and agony, quickly throwing it all back up, meaning I would have to start again. This went on for 4 weeks at which point I decided to put him on formula. Had I been mentally stronger at the time I may have persisted but it was just making me (and him) miserable. Often pulling all-nighters in my uni years I thought I’d take sleep deprivation on the chin, but I most definitely didn’t. I struggled. A lot. I think because I struggled I felt like I was failing - which just made it a vicious circle - so it took me a while to claw back my sanity. Luckily I have a very supportive fiancé who had saved up holidays so he could be with me during the difficult weeks and we were able to share the sleepless nights. It got better though, much better.

The rest: At a very early 6 weeks we decided to move Lincoln into his own room mainly because we were all keeping each other awake! Lincoln was (and still is) a very noisy sleeper and between that and me being overly aware of him, constantly checking his strange noises weren’t a warning sign, it was turning into some kind of sketch show. Looking back, moving him into his own room was one of the best decisions we made. Lincoln started sleeping a good 6 hours at a time from then on (and so did I). I can still remember that first night he slept through. I felt like superwoman… I could conquer the world! From then on, yes we would have the odd crap night but I started to really enjoy being a mum. My confidence grew and I wanted to go out of the house with him more, taking him to classes, seeing the grandparents… I think I even got reacquainted with my make-up again. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve loved motherhood from day one but sometimes felt it was hard to enjoy as there’s so much deal with and get used to at the start. It’s like learning to ride a unicycle (if you have never ridden one before of course). Life changed the moment I held Lincoln in my arms and I guess at first I wondered what I had let myself in for but the truth is I would do it all again in a heartbeat. The reality? Motherhood is blummin’ hard but my god, it’s rewarding. 

Taking your child home for the first time: Ah, I remember this so vividly. It took us about an hour to get him ready to go home in the hospital because we were deciding what to put on him (so he was warm enough, but not too warm). I was so proud carrying him through the hospital in his car seat (even though I was walking a bit like bambi on ice skates). People stopped and asked me how old he was and I’m sure I said he was 3 days old… and later worked out he was actually only 1 day old. (It had most definitely felt like 3!) 

Then we navigated the fitting of the car seat and drove home slower than a milk float. Through the door we went and naturally as it had been a good 20 minutes since his last change, we thought we better change him again. We got him on the changing mat, took his tiny nappy off and then BAM…. there parenthood officially started, with him peeing in his own face! I was horrified! I didn’t even know that this was possible. Anthony and I couldn’t do anything but shout and panic! It’s hilarious thinking back on it now but I know at the time it felt like the end of the world. Lincoln was screaming and so was I…

All was well with the world though and it was just one of the many pivotal learning curves we went through on our journey to graduate from new-born college. (Seriously, there should be a ceremony).

The best/worst advice: The best advice I got was from a lovely midwife who told me to keep the house nice and dark and peaceful at night and then in the day have the light blaring in and TV on. I think it definitely sped up him cottoning on to some kind of routine… eventually!

The worst advice I was given was to wake him up for a feed every 2 hours. I don’t quite understand why the midwife told me to do this but it felt ridiculous while I was doing it and that’s because it was. Being a new mum, any bit of advice from a professional seemed like it was Gospel - I think next time I’ll trust my own judgement more. I believe a mother’s instinct far outweighs some of the sound advice that gets thrown at you from all angles.

The hardest parts of being a mother: At the beginning I thought the hardest thing about being a mother was dealing with the lack of sleep, but I was so so wrong. Fear is a ruler of my psyche every day now and I find myself following news and politics more intently. All these horrid things I read about where parents lose their little ones just breaks my heart and it’s because I can’t help feeling that pain myself at thought of being in their shoes. Lincoln is my world and having him taken away would be tearing that world apart. 

My instincts are to protect him from harm, but the more he grows, the less reliant he is on me, so I am finding I have to reign in these instincts more and more. THAT is very difficult. Even the tiniest things like allowing him to find his play and explore when I take him to the park is hard to watch. I can’t help but follow him around with my arms open ready for him making a wrong move. Only now can I understand why, even past the age of 20 when I’d be stumbling in at 4am after a night out, I could hear my mum stirring upstairs waiting for me to come in. She was probably thinking, ‘thank God, now I can sleep’.

The best parts of being a mother: The best part is the fact he makes me smile every single day. No matter what mood I am in, even if he’s not even said a word… I’ll look over and I just smile. He’s the best. 

The harder times are easy to forget but those moments you remember always. I get so much joy out of seeing him grow and learn new things, he amazes me every day and I couldn’t imagine life without him. I could fill this answer with lots more clichés that are all, of course, true but the fact is it’s actually easier to talk in depth about some of the harder parts about being a mother, not because the harder parts outweigh the best, but because it’s difficult to justify with words how amazing it actually feels.

Hopes for your family: I have lots of hopes for Lincoln. Anthony and I are working hard trying to build good careers so we can teach him to work hard and aim high. Not to the point where there will be lots of pressure on him though - we just want him to find out what he likes and go for it. I think it’s natural to look at some of the mistakes you have made in your own life and try and guide them away from making the same ones. My main hope is to have a good relationship with him, I want him to feel like he can talk to me and ask for advice. I want him to grow up to be a healthy, happy and confident young man knowing that his mum and dad are there for him when we are needed (and probably most times when we aren’t). We also want Lincoln to have a little brother or sister, but at the moment it’s not the right time. The big big dream is to one day move to Canada and live an active outdoorsy life… but as with most other things we would like, it costs money! So who knows what the future holds?

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: GET YOUR SLEEP IN NOW…. just kidding. 

I would say try and relax; a crying baby is not necessarily an unhappy baby and although it sounds like a panic alarm, don’t panic. Also, don’t read too many parenting books before you have the baby - I quickly found out that all babies are different and getting things to suit your babies tastes involves a lot of trial and error. You’ll get the routine right eventually and then they will most likely change again. 

Oh and don’t fall into the trap of buying unnecessarily expensive (and sometimes useless) baby things. I mean you can buy things like snot suckers but they can’t beat a good old bit of tissue! Above all… enjoy it! Sit in your room of chaos, laugh it off and steal as many precious moments you can get with them. No one expects you to be Martha Stewart and the world doesn’t end just because you have a messy house, but time passes by so quickly. I remember always urging on the next stage from seeing his first smile, I was looking forward to him crawling, then walking, then talking and so on. Now he is running around bossing me about leaving me wondering where that tiny baby went.

How has being a parent changed you?: You can speak to any member of my family and they will most probably nod in agreement at what I’m about to write. Before I had Lincoln I was a very different person. I had a big social life, and going out with mates every weekend (and some weekdays too) was top of my agenda. I had plans to travel the world and was figuring out what career path I wanted to take. 

Looking back, I can see how selfish I was. everything was about me. I’m surprised my family weren’t more concerned when I announced I was pregnant.  Anthony and I hadn’t been together that long, we were living in separate houses and were (and still are) skint. 

But now my world revolves around someone else, someone so much more important to me. Even though I would have loved to do a bit of travelling, I think I have gained more from the stability of getting a bit of structure in my life. Had I not had Lincoln, I don’t think I would be as close to my parents as I am now, we wouldn’t have bought a house, got a car and I probably wouldn’t be blogging or embarking on a career in social media. I have more important dreams and aspirations now, ones that don’t just involve me. I feel much stronger, more mature, more focused, and yes a little more tired too but it’s a small thing to lose for such a massive gain. Who would have thought this party animal would one day long for early nights and family days out? Not me.

Danielle's blog can be found at http://www.itstartedwithasquish.com

Charlotte and Max

Name: Charlotte

Child: Max, 17mths

Location: Chorlton, Manchester 

Expectations of Motherhood: My journey into motherhood didn’t happen easily, so when it came to me taking the last pregnancy test - I had done so many by this point - I knew this one was different. I was scared to take it! I didn’t want to believe that what we had hoped for (and had started to feel wasn’t meant to be) was finally going to happen!

No matter how much I had wanted and planned for that moment, I couldn’t believe it was happening (and took 3 more tests!). After my initial feelings faded I had the most magical day, feeling that it wasn’t just me anymore, that I had a little one inside me. Oddly enough this actually eased my fear. From that day onwards I made a conscious decision to talk to my baby (well, bump!) and to make sure I continued to do all I could to feel connected to my little one.

I loved being pregnant and had so many special moments that I was quite scared of how I would feel not being pregnant and how would I deal with the reality of a baby. I didn’t have any experience of babies and wondered, 'What if it turns out that I don’t know what to do?' 

These were some of the many chats I had with my bump, or ‘bean’ as he was known by then. 

Reality of Motherhood: After a 37 hour labour I can honestly say I didn’t have that gushing feeling of overwhelming love, I just felt so relieved that it was over and we were all ok! 

Unfortunately we both picked up an infection which resulted in a further 5 nights stay in hospital - suffice to say I was exhausted and well and truly feeling the baby blues. I was desperate to take my baby home and for us to start to be a family, however in this was a difficult, and an often very isolated time. There was one moment that stayed with me, and made it all worthwhile, cuddling Max one night I read his tiny wristband, and it hit me, that this was MY son I was holding, and that I was now a Mum! A delayed reaction I know, but well worth the wait! 

And then came the getting home, and my God, although I had been desperate to get home it was a case of careful what you wish for! I had issues with breastfeeding from early on and basically became permanently attached to my breast pump (bought by my very stressed husband on the second day of being home after I had burst into tears on him again!). 

I had made the decision in my own mind that if I was going to have to give him a bottle that it would at least be breast milk that I fed him. I felt so guilty that I couldn’t breastfeed that sometimes when I fed Max in public I would try and hide so people wouldn’t see the bottle. Because of this it became a bit of a mission that I was determined to carry on for as long as I could and consequently expressed continuously to build up enough stock. I knew deep down that I couldn’t keep this up for too long (and my health visitor tried to say the same). I knew that I needed to stop beating myself up about it and just make the decision to stop, but anyone else who has been in this position will know how hard it is. I had to make the decision when I was ready to do so. 

In truth I was massively unprepared for the reality of having a baby and how much my life would change. If someone had told me before that I would walk down Beech Road after meeting a friend for lunch wearing a white top covered in mustard baby poo, I would have simply said, 'Absolutely no way!' and laughed out loud. But I did do that, and although it was mortifying, I did laugh - although not in the way I would have thought. 

The reality is you do these things, and sometimes it isn’t glamorous, or easy, but there is one very good reason why you do it, and that’s for your baby. Although unprepared on one hand I was also so well equipped on the other. All I had to do was what I had always done, talk to my baby and somehow by doing so we’d get through it - together - and 17 months later I’m still doing that and we are! 

Bringing your baby home for the first time: After being stuck in hospital and having to see Max given antibiotics through a cannula strapped to his tiny little arm (which made dressing around it fun!), I couldn’t get out of there quick enough to start family life (whatever that meant). 

Walking out of hospital with your baby is one of the most surreal moments you will ever experience, followed by a very tense drive home. The drive was especially tense for Olly (including a few choice words for the man who nearly crashed into us)! 

We made it home…and after that, well to be honest my overriding memory was of eating the nicest bowl of pasta Olly had ever cooked (following 5 days hospital food). I’m not entirely sure where Max was (asleep in his car seat I assume!). Following that the health visitor turned up at some ridiculous hour the next morning to find Max and I still in bed, and none of us being clean! Not the best start, but it only got better! 

Best Advice: For me, the best advice that I was given was to talk to my baby, and that by doing so he would find a way of telling me what he wanted/needed, and if I kept that up we’d be ok...and it’s true, but then again it did come from the best source - my Mum! From my perspective I would say no matter what you read, or what you hear, it’s really important to trust yourself. After all your baby and your own instincts are there for a reason. 

On a practical level I would advise investing in a baby CD (The lovely sleepy baby one worked for us!). It might drive you mad after a while but it really helps to settle them during the witching hour that is late afternoon/early evening!

I also used a sound machine in our room from day one, allowing Max to fall asleep to the sounds of the ‘ocean! This still works really well now, and helps me to sleep too! It helped to soothe Max early on, especially as he was quite jumpy after being poked and prodded continuously in hospital. 

Although somewhat controversial, I would say moving babies to be in their room early on works - Max outgrew his Moses basket after a couple of months and we didn’t have room in our bedroom for a cot, so he went into his own room. Of course it felt hard seeing such a tiny baby dwarfed by this cot bed, but it worked; he loved his room (and still does) and is (touch wood) a brilliant sleeper! I know it’s absolutely an individual choice and not everyone will agree, but I’m simply sharing my thoughts on what worked for us.

Worst advice: I didn’t really receive any bad advice as such. It was more that my personal experience of a breast feeding counsellor wasn’t helpful - and I actually felt worse as a result. I felt I couldn’t recreate what I had been told to do and was also made to feel a bit stupid when I'd said I hadn’t wanted to give Max my milk whilst I was bleeding. The response was, ‘A bit of blood won’t do him any harm!’. Whilst this may have been ok for him, upon reflection maybe it wasn’t ok for me! Instead I simply persevered, and carried on feeling guilty and in pain. 

Hardest part of being a mum: For me it has to be an inability to switch off - your mind is always thinking, is he OK doing that? Has he eaten enough? Will he sleep through? Good, bad, fun, sad, whatever it is, your mind will be thinking.

Coupled with this is the guilt. Such as, am I playing with him enough? Has he been out enough? Is he eating the right things? I really struggle with a lot of this as I am at home with Max on my own 4 days a week (it was 5 until recently). Olly and I both talked about this when we decided to have a baby - but after 15 months I started to struggle a little. I felt I needed to do at least a few hours work for a break in routine and enjoy some adult conversation. I also felt it was important for Max, as I really didn’t want to get to the point where I resented my decision to stay at home with him. Thankfully my dad is able to help out 1 day a week, and they both have so much fun that it helps me switch off and appeases the guilt - for a few hours at least!

Max recently had a nasty bump to his head, after which he went floppy for a few seconds. For a minute I panicked and allowed my mind to go to that dreaded dark thought, the one that lies dormant but never far away in the back of your mind, 'what if?'. It reminds you what it feels like to be scared and helpless - both of which I’ve felt frequently as a new mum. 

It all comes down to loving someone so much you can’t imagine being without them. 

Best Parts of being a mum: Now to the fun part! And that’s exactly what it is - lots of fun! He makes me laugh out loud most days and has lightened my life in a way I never knew possible. Watching my little man grow and develop is incredible. I love that we have been a team since day 1. Seeing the way he looks at me, holds my hand, strokes my face (all on a good day!) - it melts me and makes all the guilt, anxiety, tiredness and stress disappear. Tantrums aside, I love the stage that he is at now, and although it’s exhausting, seeing him become a little person - trying in different ways to communicate with me and getting an idea of his personality - is just magical. 

Hopes for your family: Naturally my main hope is that my little family stays happy and healthy. I feel so proud of what we have achieved up to now and I don’t want to put too much pressure on where we will be in the future, or what lies ahead. It’s all part of the adventure of having a child - you don’t know where you’re at from one minute to the next, from tantrum to laughter - it all happens in a split second.

Advice to new and expectant mums: To reiterate, on an emotional level it’s about trusting yourself and talking to your bump/baby.



I don’t read baby books, and try not to compare us with others (although it’s inevitable sometimes). You’re not going to be looking at it from a neutral perspective though, so other peoples' babies will seem better behaved (though never cuter!) and other mums will appear calmer, more groomed etc, but I would go back to the advice of listening to, and learning from, Max. To be honest I take it minute by minute and go from there.

On a practical level - buy a sound machine and a Baby CD. In addition buy yourself a coat with a hood. Trust me, wrestling with a buggy and a brolly is not fun - I only found this out the hard (and very wet) way!

Personally, I loved having a pre-natal baby listening device (despite being adamant I wouldn’t get one!). There was something quite amazing, and surreal, about sitting on the sofa watching TV with Olly - headphones in, listening to our baby’s heartbeat. 

To be honest though, it’s such a personal journey, and you will find your own way through it, and that’s part of the magic of it. You do find a way through it, and while it may not always be easy, it’s rewarding on a level you could never imagine.

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.