Ellie, Lucas, Aurora and Jake

Name: Ellie 

Children: Lucas, 4,  Aurora, 2, Jake, 2 - they are twins 

Location: Stockport

Expectations of Motherhood: Before I had Lucas, I planned to return to work after 6 months. I had a promising career in PR and communications and I didn't want to lose everything I'd worked hard for. I thought maternity leave would be so much fun - meeting new mum friends for coffee while my newborn slept peacefully in a pram. I anticipated I'd have time for hobbies, such as knitting and reading. I think my whole expectation of parenthood was based on films and TV programmes. 

Reality of Motherhood: It was like someone took the pieces of my life and threw them into the air - when they landed, my life was unrecognisable. 

When Lucas was born, I struggled to bond with him and by the time I had, I knew I wouldn't be ready to return to work as soon as I had planned. However, my post was made redundant when Lucas was 5 months old and after lots of discussion with my husband, I decided to put my career on hold and stay at home with our son. It's one of the best decisions I've ever made. 

Taking your children home for the first time: When we took Lucas home, I kept looking behind us, sure that a midwife would come and rescue him from his clueless parents. I couldn't believe we were allowed to walk out of hospital with him! At home, we all sat and stared at him sleeping in his Moses basket (first and last time). We had no idea what we should have been doing.

Our twins were born at home in a planned water birth, so there was no 'taking home'. It was still very surreal, but I loved being at home. We put Lucas to bed, ate pizza and drank champagne.

The best/worst advice: My dad once told me that his best parenting advice was 'fake it til you make it'. I was flabbergasted - he usually seemed to have it all together raising me as a single parent, but he was faking it! I always come back to that advice, and I think he was encouraging me to trust my instincts. 

I've had lots of poor advice, but the one thing I'm still cross about is the suggestion to buy a top and tail bowl. I cannot think of a more useless object to purchase.

The hardest parts of being a mother: The relentlessness. We have 3 children under 5; there is no break. We are always rushing, always on a knife-edge, and it is very difficult. For a long time I struggled with my new identity as a stay-at-home-parent. I now run 3 businesses and do some volunteer work, and this has helped me to feel like me again. Parenting is such a thankless job, isn't it?

The best parts of being a mother: My children. I sometimes sneak a glance at them and I cannot believe they are ours. They are little miracles, and watching them grow up is a magnificent gift. I feel incredibly lucky that we are happy, healthy, and financially secure. 

Has becoming a mother changed you? My priorities have changed. My family will always come first, and after being out of the workplace for 5 years, I cannot imagine returning. My previous job would have been hard to balance with a young family, and the truth is I like being there for school runs, school events, and playgroups. Some of my pre-children friends have found this hard to understand - I would have too before having my son. At the social enterprise that I run, we want to help parents to develop their skills and experience while raising young families, without sacrificing time with their children.

Hopes for your family: I hope they are, and continue to be, happy. I hope they always know how much we love them; how hard we try, even when we don't get it right. I hope they will come to us when they are struggling, and that we will be a safe space for them.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums? Talk about how you feel. You might think you're the only one feeling overwhelmed, but you aren't! We need to talk about how hard the transition to parent can be - it is life-changing in the truest sense of the phrase. 

Louise, Darcy and Seth

Name: Louise Earnshaw

Children: Darcy and Seth, both 10 months old 

Location: Bury

Expectations of Motherhood: Very different from reality! I never expected it to be easy, but having twins throws up a whole new set of challenges, all the thoughts of coffee-shopping my way through maternity leave were somewhat impaired by the practical aspect of having two little monkeys to deal with, and a monster truck double buggy!

Reality of Motherhood: Argh the tiredness! No matter how any one tries to explain it to you, until you've lived through the sleep deprivation of the newborn stage you'll never quite understand it! But the payoffs - those gorgeous cuddles, and little cheeky smiles, all dependent on you - it's a big responsibility but every new thing they do and learn makes you so proud it's unreal.

Taking your children home for the first time: Darcy and Seth were 2 months early, and spent their first 6 weeks of life on the neonatal unit, so taking them home for the first time was nothing like the experience I had imagined bringing out first child/children home would be. It was exciting, frightening, amazing yet overwhelming. Probably the best yet most terrifying day of my life!

The hardest parts of being a mother: The constant guilt that you only have one pair of hands yet there are two little faces looking up at you wanting attention, it's hard not to beat yourself up about it.

The best parts of being a mother: Having two beautiful babies who despite an impatient entry into the world are thriving, knowing I'm helping them grow and develop, and their beaming smiles when they see me is enough to melt anyone's heart.

Has becoming a mother changed you? Yes. In many ways for the better, but also in ways which I didn't imagine it would affect me and my personality.

Hopes for your family: All I can hope is that Darcy and Seth are happy, healthy children, to whom I can give as many opportunities and experiences as possible, and that one day they'll thank me for it!

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Be confident in your own abilities, but do not be scared to ask for help or advice - we're all only human, and as a first time mum it's easy to put massive expectations on yourself that aren't realistic. Take time to get used to it, and don't panic if it doesn't all come naturally at first, it's definitely a learning curve - but it's so worth it!

Joanna, Pablo, Nico and Lola

Name: Joanna 

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

Location: Levenshulme, Manchester 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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


(Lola's first roll captured during the shoot)

Marlous, Ivan and Alexander

Name: Marlous

Children: Ivan and Alexander (1.5 yrs)

Location: Manchester

Expectations of Motherhood: My boyfriend and I had known each other three weeks when I got pregnant and we weren’t even living in the same country, so there wasn’t time to think much further than how to get us all into the delivery room. Looking back, that has been good for me. I find ‘mother’ quite a loaded term, and if I had had more time to daydream, I would probably have set myself all sorts of unobtainable standards. I have become a mother by changing a nappy at a time – sometimes full of confidence and sometimes desperately unsure of where I was going – rather than by beating myself up about whatever ideal I didn’t meet that day.

Reality of Motherhood: It is different than any other experience. You have only yourself to rely on and I find that incredibly liberating and terrifying at the same time. I love seeing these two tiny squirrels turning into little boys; how they had distinct personalities from the second they were born and how they teach themselves all the things that I thought I was supposed to teach them as a mother. Really, putting the round blocks into the round hole and using a fork to eat rice are skills I would love to take credit for, but they just watched us and started doing it when they were ready.

Taking your children home for the first time: It was dark, cold and we were in a taxi: the babes, my boyfriend, and my friend Sam, who had been with us during labour. Alex and Ivan were wrapped up in about a thousand blankets, and Sam and I held one each close to us while Omid was chatting to the driver. I remember looking outside and realising that I had completely forgotten there was a world bigger than the hospital room where I had spent the first week cosied up with my babies. I was excited and at the same time a little bit sad. My first lesson in letting them go, I suppose.

The best/worst advice: The best advice I got from a website, where a mother explained that she parents by three questions: Is it safe? Is it respectful? Is it kind? If it ticks these three boxes, my kids are allowed to do it. Which is basically the opposite from the worst advice, which came from my dad, who told my sister that by not curbing my children’s desire to touch the cd player or throw food on the floor I am abandoning them to a life of lawless savagery. After that I worried for a while that I was living by my idea of freedom more for my sake than theirs, but actually they are turning into very enterprising, yet responsible, social and considerate kids. Hopefully that will prove to be more than a phase!

The hardest parts of being a mother:

Knowing that all the life decisions I have made so far and make from now on, affect these two little people just as much as me. I have lived quite an adventurous life, with lots of spur of the moment decisions. If I hadn’t been like that, Ivan and Alex wouldn’t be here now. But it also means I am raising them with a man I am still getting to know, in a rented flat I hate, in a city where neither of us have family or close friends.

The best parts of being a mother: Sharing in their happiness. I love how they meet all the everyday stuff like saying hello in the morning, getting breakfast, bringing out the toys, going out, dancing in the living room, and on and on, with smiles and laughter. Being part of so much joy has really changed my outlook on life.

Hopes for your family: To stay a happy band of dancing, singing gypsies that offers a safe place for the four of us and the ones we love, to be who we are and develop into what we want to be. It’s not that much to ask for, is it?

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: To women expecting twins I would say: take it one day at a time and remember that it will take you longer to get some (any!) normalcy back than the mums of singletons around you, but it will come back. Also, prepare comebacks to comments such as: Which is the evil one? Are they both yours? And awww, twins, such a blessing - when you just managed to get them and yourself about decent enough to sneak out of the house for some emergency shopping, after failing for four hours.