Rebecca and Taylor

Name: Rebecca 

Child: Taylor, 9 months

Location: Bolton

Expectations of Motherhood: I was the eldest child in my family so I think | expected slightly to have it all sussed. I had been looking after my siblings for years, I'd changed nappies, made bottles - all the stuff you expect babies to need really. I strangely wasn't that nervous but think I was enjoying my pregnancy so much I didn't think too much in depth about the struggles likely to be ahead.

Reality of Motherhood: I went into labour 5 weeks early. I was physically prepared (nursery done, everything bought and ready, bag packed) but not mentally prepared. It was quite scary. I was still so wrapped up in being happily pregnant (well apart from the hot weather - that was awful!) that it didn't give me time to worry about what was to come. I had an easy labour considering and my husband was amazing throughout. 

Taylor was so tiny. My expectations of knowing what to do went out the window. Yeah I could change a nappy, but I felt I couldn't hold him without breaking him, and constantly worried about if he was too hot or too cold. I have since come to realise, as much as you worry in the newborn stage, it is far easier than when they become more aware and crave your attention. That is far more exhausting than I ever expected!

Taking your child home for the first time: We were in hospital just over a week with Taylor being early and a tiny 4lb 1oz. By then I felt at home with the midwives there for support and friends I had made in other beds on the ward. I didn't want to leave as that would make it real. We would be alone with a baby. I wouldn't have my safety net of professional people around me looking in and telling me I was doing good. I was excited all the same though and was glad to get back to my own bed! (not that I would be sleeping in it much from now on).

  

       

The best/worst advice: Hard to remember the advice I've been given. I quite like doing things my own way and relying on my instincts. Different advice works for different babies.

The hardest parts of being a mother: Well lack of sleep for one! But I'm sure all mothers know that one. I'd say when your child gets sick. A sniffle seems like the scariest thing in the world for a first time mum. You tear your hair out thinking the worst then within a couple of days they're back to their normal selves and its like it never happened.

The best parts of being a mother: The smiles, the giggles, the milestones, the cuddles. The list is endless really. The thought that you made this little person and they love you to death no matter what.

Has becoming a mother changed you? Being a mother hasn't changed me but it has changed my perspective on life. Before now I was fairly career focused and wanted to go as far as could. Now I just feel that stuff doesn't matter and I will work to live and not live to work. I still work, as I like my job and the security it gives me, but I will just be looking forward to the days I can spend with my little boy.

Hopes for your family: Just to be happy and have fun together.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums? Enjoy the newborn days. It seems hard and scary at the time, but just appreciate it. Watching them grow is amazing and learning new things. Everyone tells you it goes too fast and it really does! You don't realise till it's gone. Enjoy the whole experience as much as possible and take lots of photographs! Oh and don't be afraid to ask for help.

Rachel, Louis and Poppy

Expectations of motherhood: I always knew I wanted children, but it wasn't something that I was desperate for the minute we got married. Babies had always scared me, being so fragile and precious (them, not me!). But after a weekend away with family, I quickly became besotted with my 9month old niece and realised, 'hey maybe I could do this having a baby lark!'

I imagined motherhood being a calm, blissful and enjoyable experience, living in a haze of harmony. The idea that motherhood could be anything less than wonderful never ever entered my head. Being pregnant would mean napping whenever I wanted, taking things easy and eating as many cream eggs as I wanted without putting an ounce of weight on. (The baby needs it!) I would be glowing and radiant, enjoying the miracle of growing a mini human in my tummy.

Reality of Motherhood: In reality, which am sure everyone who knows me would agree, I was most definitely not a happy pregnant person! I moaned from start to finish, nothing was enjoyable and I couldn't wait for it to be over, although the thought of labour terrified me. 

For some ridiculous reason I thought it would be great to watch One Born Every Minute, for educational and training purposes! Every week without fail I would end up crying, adamant there was no way in hellI would be pushing this baby out. I am the type of person who needs to lie down for half an hour after stabbing my little toe.

A few days before my due date at 3AM I was having the most bizarre and vivid dream. Being a Primary School Teacher, I was dreaming that I had taken my class on a trip to a waterfall. Whilst screaming to the children don't touch the water, I suddenly woke up in a damp puddle! The combination of hearing running water and having the bladder of a full-term pregnant lady made me convince myself that I had wet myself. I jumped up, as much as a heavily pregnant woman could, ran to the toilet to realise this might not have been an accident. Could it have been my waters breaking? I rang the unit, who said as I wasn't in labour, to come in later that morning and they would take it from there.

Meanwhile I was having a new oven delivered that morning, which was one of the first things that came to mind - I can’t be having a baby now as I’ve got too much to sort today! We went to hospital where they examined me and then sent me home again as nothing was happening, giving the usual advice of resting up and trying to get as much sleep as possible.

For some reason I had it my head now was the time to start beautifying myself, so I washed and blow dried my hair, painted my nails and generally tried to make myself look as good as I could. My husband and I then both chilled out and watched Home Alone Two which was on TV! Later that evening my contractions slowly started and I put my Tens machine on. After a couple of hours I decided I couldn’t take the pain anymore and called the hospital. 

Even though they told me I didn't sound like I was in active labour, we went in, just in case. Looking back now, I think I was just scared of giving birth at home. I had a very long and tiring labour, I just didn't progress so had to be put on a drip to speed things up. 

It’s all a bit of a blur, but I do remember in the final stages the midwives decided I needed a boost of energy and insisted I put my iPod and speakers on. When asked what I wanted to listen to I for some reason requested Robbie Williams, my husband in another life. I can still picture the scene, three midwives all singing along to Robbie, whilst I was cringing and just thinking it's really loud and everyone on the ward can hear! 

Eventually, almost 48 hours after my waters had broken, my baby boy was pushed out. But the drama didn't end there, I was then wheeled off to theatre as I had third degree tears and needed sorting out. Having a bit of a phobia of theatres, I insisted the midwife came with me. It was all so surreal. I had just popped out my first born and there I was, lying on a theatre table talking rubbish due to exhaustion. I should have taken the hint when the midwife said why don't you close your eyes and try and get some rest. 

Another twist of cruelty was during labour I had an hour of demanding an epidural - even though I had always stated I would rather try and avoid it, wanting to be as active as possible. And there I was, an hour after the birth being given a spinal block for theatre! Eventually I was wheeled back up to the ward, about 2AM with my baby and my husband. I remember Louis started crying a few hours later and I couldn't move due to my surgery. I buzzed a nurse who kindly picked him up out of his cot, handed him to me and then walked off. What on earth was I supposed to do? I just held him for five minutes, he stopped crying and then I buzzed for someone to put him back down. It was just such a bizarre moment. 

With Poppy, my whole pregnancy was different, I was throwing up more, which for someone with an extreme phobia of vomit, was definitely not a good thing. Plus because I already had Louis, I didn't have those moments where I could crash on the couch after work. My friends had thrown me a surprise baby shower about five days before my due date, which was really fun but I had felt so rough all day. Later that night when I had got into bed, I just had a feeling that things weren't right. As with Louis, I woke up at three AM to discover I hadn't wet myself, my waters had broken! With a sense of déjà vue, I rang the unit who told me to come in later on that morning to check all was ok. We dropped my son off at nursery and went to the hospital. At this point I was having slight contractions, but it didn't bother me as I knew the pain was going to get way more intense. 

We went home and I spent the day in bed, this time not having to worry about a new oven coming. Later that evening my contractions became much worse. We went to the hospital at midnight only to be sent home again as I wasn’t even dilated. 

Literally about an hour later the pain was horrendous. I insisted on going back, I knew the two paracetamol I was told to have weren’t even going to touch the surface. But somehow I still wasn’t in labour! The midwife could see (and hear) how much pain I was in so they put me on the antenatal ward, in a private room, which my husband now tells me is because I was shouting so much they couldn’t put me on a ward with other people, and gave me a shot of Diamorphine. With Louis, Diamorphine sent me to sleep, it was amazing. This time, it did absolutely nothing, after an hour I was still in a ridiculous amount of pain and demanded I was examined again. “Oh yeah, you are now 6cm” I heard!! 

I was shipped off to the delivery suite but whilst sat in the wheelchair I could feel my body wanting to push. As soon as I was rushed through the doors on the delivery suite I demanded an epidural - the pain was so blumming intense - but all I got the usual excuse of the anaesthetist is busy but the midwife would try and ask him. Within half an hour, with a lot of shouting and screaming that I was going to do a poo - something I was petrified of doing - my little girl was born, on her Daddy's birthday. Right on cue, ten minutes after Poppy was born, a guy knocked on the door and announced he was here to give me an epidural. Luckily I was too exhausted and overcome with emotion to swear at him.

Everything was going so well, I only needed one stitch this time, could immediately have a shower to freshen up and then I was transferred to the post natal ward.

An hour or two later, whilst in the toilet I could hear a bit of a commotion; someone was shouting for the help of a Doctor. When I came out I could see Lee stood outside our cubicle watching a large group of doctors and nurses examine Poppy. I clearly remember Lee looking quite calm, which instantly reassured me. Before I knew anything, Poppy was whisked off to the special care unit to be put in an incubator, her temperature has dropped low and they suspected she may have an infection. It was all a bit of a blur, it seemed forever until they called us down to the unit where we could see her. It was so horrible seeing Poppy in an incubator with tubes everywhere, but what was worse was seeing all the really teeny tiny seriously sick babies. It made feel so lucky that Poppy wasn't life threateningly ill and it was all just precautionary to protect from her from any suspected infections. Thank goodness she improved quickly and the next day she was back on the ward with me and everything was fine, but it made me realise just how precious our babies are and we should never take anything for granted.

Taking your children home for the first time: Taking Louis home for the first time was so surreal, we videoed everything. Putting him in the car seat, leaving the hospital, putting him in the car, walking into our home for the first time. I just remember taking everything in my stride, the two of us were very chilled with him. He was such a placid, easygoing baby. 

Taking Poppy home for the first time was still special but as is typical of the second child syndrome, we didn't take as many pictures! She had already established her role of being the family diva after her incubator episode, and that first night she constantly threw up when lying down and was so sick it would make her choke. A few times she went quite blue whilst she gasped for air. It scared me so much, even though she had done it in the hospital, but there you are surrounded by medical professionals so you know you always have someone nearby to help if it was to get serious. She soon grew out of it, but it made me slightly more over-protective of her, which was hard for me to deal with, because I had been so chilled out with Louis. I think it also affected me not having her with me that first night in hospital whilst she was in SCBU, I hadn’t had her there with me so I could watch over her and care for my newborn baby myself.

The best/worst advice: The best advice I was ever given was to go with the flow and don't stress. Both my children have been very easy going, chilled out babies, which could be nature or nurture but I strongly believe part of it is down to how calm both Lee and I are with them.

Also some people claim good advice is to not Google everything, but unfortunately I am the worst person for consulting Google over everything! I just can’t help myself! I have learnt to sift out the panic inducing info and read between the lines, but quite often I have diagnosed things before going to the doctors, only to hear the doctor confirm what I thought. Who needs a medical degree?!

Perhaps the worst advice was to sleep when the baby sleeps because that never happens. There is always something to be doing, especially with two children.

The hardest parts of being a mother: The hardest part of being a mother is never being able to fully switch off from my job as a mum. I constantly have to have my phone with me when away from them incase something was to happen; I know that these children depend on me and that they are my world. 

Another hard time was when Louis was going through the inquisitive toddler stage and constantly pushing the boundaries. He was testing our patience and knew exactly what buttons to press. Lee and I had to be consistent and try to keep calm with him and each other.

The interrupted sleep is also very difficult to handle, most nights Louis can have a nightmare or Poppy wakes with a teething pain or growth spurt. Gone are the days where I would lie in until lunchtime after a full night’s sleep. It's also hard being a full-time, working mum, juggling being committed to my job whilst discovering that ultimately my family now have to come first. I know it's going to be even more difficult when I return to work soon, now having two children.

The best parts of being a mother: It’s all amazing, the good and the bad! Yes I may want to cry and have a meltdown when it’s past his bedtime and Louis is still not asleep and all I want is a hot bath, but you learn from it. When he finally does go to bed and is sound asleep, looking super-angelic, I get a smug feeling of 'woo hoo, I won, he listened to me and went to sleep' (only three hours after the battle began!). 

The cuddles, the smiles, the laughter, watching your babies personality develop is just amazing. I get this incredible burst of overwhelming love and happiness when I am with them, constantly asking how did I create such amazing beautiful children? 

Louis is such a character, he has me in stitches with his hilarious sense of humour and comical ways. Yet it makes me beam with pride when he offers to share his biscuits or wants to help look after his little sister. Poppy is just amazing. She rarely cries, loves to sit and play and babble to everyone and anyone. I particularly love it how her eyes light up when her Daddy or big brother walk into the room - it makes my heart melt. I look at Louis and Poppy and think how blessed I am and couldn’t imagine my life without them.

Has becoming a mother changed you?: In some ways being a mother has changed my life a lot. I certainly can’t go out drinking until 2am anymore, the thought of dealing with two kids first thing in the morning is enough to send me teetotal. My priorities have changed, they now come first in my life. When shopping I look for clothes for them, when planning my social life I consider them first. However I have also had to work hard at realising that I am still the same person and that it is important for me to still do the things I used to love doing, pre kids. Becoming a mum has made me appreciate how lucky I am to have such gorgeous children. It puts life into perspective when I am feeling down about things, I may not have everything I want but I couldn't imagine not having Louis and Poppy. 

Hopes for your family: I am going to try and do as much as I can to ensure that my children look back on their childhood as a fun, carefree time in their lives. I hope that they grow up to become well-liked, happy and easy going people who always believe in themselves and don’t take anything for granted, appreciating everything that they have in their lives. 

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums?: No two children are the same. What works for one child might not for yours, so be open to trying lots of different techniques and explore all options. 

Never feel pressured into trying something you don't feel comfortable doing. You have to feel calm and confident in your approach or else your children will pick up on it and play on the fact that you don’t believe in what you are doing. 

Don’t compare yourself to others, even though someone may claim to have the perfect, sleeping through the night, never having tantrums child, you don’t know what happens behind closed doors! 

Also what worked for your first child may not for your second. Louis was a routine child and played by my rules. Poppy on the other hand refused to get into a routine and did things her way, which as an organised and structured person, was hard for me to deal with! I eventually gave up and let her be, so what if she wanted her bottle 3 not 4 hours after the previous one?! Finally and most importantly, enjoy every minute - the good and the not so good - as time flies by just too quickly.

Laurie and Oscar

Name: Laurie 

Child: Oscar 15 months

Location: Ramsbottom

Expectations of Motherhood: I expected hard work. We used to lie in bed and talk about how much fun it would be to have a little one snuggled between us - a full and noisy house. I probably didn't think much further than being on maternity leave with a baby, but thought it'd be a jolly old time!

Reality of Motherhood: A million times harder work! A shock to the system even though it was all planned and expected. 

Taking your child home for the first time: Terrifying, and not because I didn't know what to do (I felt very confident in myself as a mother), but I just felt very vulnerable in the world and like I was the only one who could protect my baby. Unfortunately it was the day post-natal depression set in (which was fortunately very fleeting), but my house felt wrong (like the weird feeling you have when you get when you come home from a 2 week holiday, only magnified a thousand times); the world felt wrong. I didn't feel sad or upset, I just felt nothing (then that made me feel guilty!). What was always evident was that it was a given that I would do everything within my power to look after this little person. It was also a big relief to finally have him at home with us after all those months of waiting. 

The best/worst advice: The best advice came from a brilliant midwife who told me, "You're his mother, you can do anything you want!" - I'd only asked if I could use baby wipes instead of cotton wool on his bottom, but by saying that I realised I had permission to take control and just do it. 

Worst advice: from the breast feeding support worker (or peer support worker) at hospital. I'd fed Oscar successfully twice, but then she turned up, said was doing it wrong, made him cry - he didn't even cry when he was born - then said I couldn't go home because she hadn't seen me feed him. 

Now I think back, I was vulnerable and she basically threatened me by saying, "What will you do when your baby won't feed in the middle of the night?" and, "if he's re-admitted to hospital you won't be allowed to come with him". 

It really angers me. Especially when I went on to breast feed until Oscar was about 10 months. 

The hardest parts of being a mother: The night time in the very early stages: a killer! Realising that you will never really relax or be just yourself anymore.... Or at least not for a few decades! Worrying about doing it right! 

The best parts of being a mother: Having the most wonderful little creature that's ever existed!

Knowing that all his healthy weight gain was purely down to my milk. And now, as he's getting older, those little arms around my neck and his kisses. 

Has becoming a mother changed you?: Yes, I'm more sensitive in a lot if ways, like hearing sad stories, but I'm also very strong and feel like I have my priorities a bit more straight. 

Hopes for your family: More babies! 2 or 3 maybe. I just hope for me and my husband to do the best to raise our children with confidence, determination and to be kind. To be happy.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums?: Hide away for 6 weeks, be just a mummy, recover, eat, drink and sleep. Snuggle and kiss your baby. Don't have too many visitors unless they run around after you. Don't put too much pressure on your yourself. It's hard and if anyone says they found if easy, they're lying. Trust yourself and do it how you want to.

Kate and Edward

Name: Kate 

Child: Edward, 7 months

Location: West Didsbury

Expectations of motherhood: We never expected to have difficulty conceiving, and so we waited until we had everything in place before we started trying for a family. By this time we were both doing well in our careers, and had probably had more than our fair share of living like we were twenty-somethings (even though we were well into our thirties). My hopes were for a large, close-knit family. I had seen my partner Alan with our friends’ children, and knew he would make a wonderful dad.

Conceiving, however, was anything but easy. It took us four years, a battery of invasive tests, four failed cycles of fertility treatment, a devastating miscarriage and numerous other disappointments. We had almost given up hope when Edward was conceived. My expectations of motherhood then were very different – I dared not expect too much for fear something would go wrong, and even when it seemed as though my pregnancy was to be successful, it was impossible to see beyond the birth. Becoming a mother had become so elusive – something that would never happen to me – that I actually had no expectations other than to desperately hope that I would be able to hold a healthy baby in my arms.

Reality of motherhood: It sounds obvious, but pregnancy and early motherhood have been an incredibly intense experience, both physically and emotionally. My pregnancy gave me every side effect possible – acute sickness up to week 14, digestive problems, extreme hunger, unstoppable weight gain (four stone!), hip problems (I was unable to walk for the last two weeks of my pregnancy), bleeding gums, terribly sore feet. I could go on. It also made me feel remarkably alive, and I skipped out of bed in the morning during the second and most of the third trimesters, so utterly delighted to be pregnant. 

When Edward was born, I fell in love immediately. It was such an extraordinarily strong emotion, and so overwhelming at times that I spent quite a bit of the first few weeks in tears. These were tears of joy, and not the ‘baby blues’ I’d been warned about. I had, and still have, an overriding urge to be with him all the time, to make sure he feels safe and loved, and I have no doubt I would do anything – anything at all – to protect him. My priorities feel different too. My career has always been extremely important to me, and I could never really understand why some of my friends chose to be stay-at-home mums. I now understand why, and am trying to work out how I can do my job part-time.

The other reality for me is that my health suffered quite considerably after Edward’s birth. I developed a terribly bad back at about week seven, and was unable to lift anything at all, including my son. Initially I was told a bad back following the birth of a child was quite normal, but it went on for so long with no improvement that eventually I was sent for an MRI scan. I was not expecting the result at all – five spinal fractures. The vertebrae had basically collapsed. A bone density scan and further tests revealed that I had developed a rare condition called pregnancy-related osteoporosis. It’s hard to explain how difficult it was to be unable to pick up or properly care for my much longed-for baby while the fractures healed, and to see other people doing things with Edward that I had expected, and longed, to do myself. I also had to stop breastfeeding very suddenly following the diagnosis at four-and-a-half months, as I was advised this would help my recovery. This was probably the most difficult part of the whole saga, my distress partly hormonally-driven I’m sure. But Edward soon realised he could get twice the milk in half the time through a bottle (he’s not daft!), and has thrived. And because I spent so many months unable to lift him he is not a clingy baby, and is very happy in the company of other people. 

Taking your child home for the first time: We spent a week in hospital following a rather long labour which culminated in a dramatic birth, and when we finally got home it felt pretty unreal – I recall being surprised actually. I took Edward from room to room so he could see his new home, and remember breaking down in the kitchen because I never thought this moment would happen. I then spent the next 24 hours convinced I was going to accidentally harm this tiny creature. If he wasn’t going to die from being too hot or too cold in his Moses basket (how many times can you check the room temperature in one night, or fret about blanket thickness?), then I was going to probably injure him when I was changing or bathing him. I remember taking him for a hip scan when he was about three weeks old as part of a routine test to check his bone alignment because he had been born with turned-in feet, and being convinced they were going to find broken bones or other injuries. Silly I know, but he seemed so fragile to me that I felt so utterly cumbersome and clumsy when I touched him.

The best/worst advice: The worst advice I had was that babies are unable to get themselves to sleep. So in the early weeks I spent hours and hours rocking Edward and pounding the streets in an effort to get him to nap. I also at one point ended up with my iPad on my pillow blasting out white noise at full volume in an effort to ‘lull’ him to sleep in the dead of night. It became some sort of torture device! Not surprisingly I became very, very tired.

We were also told that newborn babies are rather dull, and our expectation was that Edward would probably not become ‘interesting’ until aged around six months. Not so! We have found every stage to be fascinating, and Edward has always interacted with us and given us so much back. Right from his birth we both felt a connection when he looked at us (I have a wonderful photo taken a couple of minutes after his birth where father and son are staring into each other’s eyes). And those gummy smiles of his have melted my heart since he was four-and-a-half weeks old.

The best advice I had was that babies tend to need a sleep after about two hours of wakefulness. So we gave it a whirl, and started popping him into his cot after he’d been awake for two hours; most of the time he would go straight to sleep. Once I binned the books with their reams of conflicting sleeping and napping tips, life became much easier. Another piece of advice I’m so glad we followed was to not have too many visitors in the first couple of weeks. Those few weeks with Edward and Alan – just the three of us – were incredibly precious and tender. There was plenty of time to see friends and family when Alan returned to work after his paternity leave. 

The hardest parts of being a mother: There are numerous challenges, most of which have taken me by surprise. The constant worry that you’re doing it ‘wrong’ is one. I had heard many times that your baby “doesn’t come with a manual”, and I didn’t really understand what this meant until Edward was born. I have spent hours questioning my own judgement, and I do seem to live with the nagging fear that something I am doing is unwittingly causing him long-term damage.

Another difficultly is seeing him poorly. We have been lucky so far that this has only stretched to coughs, a mild cold and a vomiting bug; I am dreading seeing him really unwell.

Yet another challenge has been letting go – or trying to – and accepting other people’s help in holding him when I have been unable to. It’s excruciating having to watch someone else comfort your baby.

The best parts of being a mother: The absolute, unconditional love I feel for my son. He has enriched my life immeasurably, and makes me feel glad to be alive. His huge, gummy grin first thing in the morning – so happy to see me; making him giggle uncontrollably by doing something really silly; him falling asleep in my lap when I sing to him and stroke his hair; seeing him develop more and more all the time, with each day bringing something new; and just the sheer privilege of being able to spend so much time with him and getting to know him. This may sound a strange thing to say as motherhood affects so many, but being a mother is probably the best kept secret ever – I never imagined how wonderful it could be until it actually happened to me.

Has becoming a mother changed you?: Yes. I feel I have grown emotionally. My priorities feel different; I would do absolutely anything for my son. I also feel different with regard to my own health; being in so much pain for such a long time, and being dependant on other people, has made me realise how fragile my own health is, and how important it is to look after myself. Lastly, I now understand a part of my own parents that I didn’t before, and feel closer to them because of it. I wish my father was alive to have been able to meet Edward. He would have fallen for him too! 



Hopes for your family: My hopes for Edward are that he is happy and healthy, feels secure and knows he is loved, and that he is able to fulfil his potential. I would also like to have a close relationship with him, and be an important part of his life when he himself is an adult.

As for other children…we always planned on having more than one, but we recognise this might not be possible, both because of my age and my health condition. We are seeing my hospital consultant next month, so will discuss the options around having a second child, and whether it is safe. If not, Edward is such a blessing that we will count ourselves very fortunate if he is our only child. We have a wide circle of friends, many of whom have babies around the same age, so I am certain he will grow up with numerous good playmates who will be as important to him as siblings.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Bin the books. All their conflicting advice about routines and sleep patterns just made me anxious.

The other must-do is to take part in an NCT antenatal course. The women I met have become firm friends, have kept me sane and have helped me through a pretty tough time; I’m not sure how I would have coped without them.

And lastly, take as much maternity leave as you can afford. It is such a special time, and it will fly by. Enjoy it.

Pregnancy-related osteoporosis - This is a poorly understood condition which affects a small number of women each year. It is believed that the hormonal changes associated with pregnancy somehow cause massive bone loss. Most of those affected regain their bone density within 12 months of the body’s hormones returning to normal after pregnancy. More information is available through the National Osteoporosis Society: www.nos.org.uk

Laura and Florence

Name: Laura

Child: Florence (9 months)

Location: Levenshulme

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And, enjoy it.

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/