Helen and Maeby

Name: Helen 

Child: Maeby, 20 months

Location: Levenshulme

Expectations of Motherhood: Honestly, I thought I'd be pretty crap - or, if not crap, exactly, then I thought I'd find the transition a lot harder than I did. Which is not to say I've found it easy, far from it, but let's just say I had (fairly justifiably, based on 30-odd years of prior experience!) low expectations of my ability to act unselfishly when I needed to.

I've also got a pretty chequered mental health history and I was fairly certain that would come to the fore in the form of post-natal depression and was somewhat bracing myself for the worst. Thankfully education around mental health issues in motherhood is very much better than it used to be and I was supported throughout my pregnancy and made to feel like support would be there if I needed it when the baby came. 

All of that was coupled with a sense of fear about my ability to love my baby - I think a lot of people harbour secret doubts as to whether they will really be capable of loving a child - pregnancy feels so abstract and the testimonials of what comes after seem to veer so wildly between gushing and horrific it feels completely impossible to get a grip on what the reality will actually be *like*. All of that makes you wonder why on earth I wanted to have a baby...and honestly, I don't know, reading that back! 

I love my partner very much and we enjoy each others' company immensely, I think we wanted to let someone else in to enjoy the fun we have, but all of the above should signal that I went into the whole thing with some serious trepidation.

Reality of Motherhood: As a caveat to what I am about to say I want to be clear that I know I have been very lucky - and I want to emphasise that I am aware it is pure luck - the vast majority of women don't have the experience that I have had and that's not down to anything they or I have done differently, it's just the luck of the draw and for no discernible reason I came out of that well.

So with that said...it's been the most enjoyable thing I have ever done. I was induced at term because of some minor, low-risk complications in the pregnancy and for me that translated into a short labour that was painful but well managed with medication and from that point onward I became a walking example of every cliche I had ever heard about birth and motherhood. 

No post natal depression ever materialised and I fell in love with Maeby almost immediately and that love, mixed with some kickass hormones doing their thing for the first few months, meant that any abandonment of selfishness happened without me really noticing - all of a sudden I became utterly focused on my child and her needs. Of course there were difficult nights and utter exhaustion but it just seemed so completely inconsequential when set against the joy of her - seeing her grow, feeling her weight, watching my partner blossom into a truly exceptional father. 

About three months into my pregnancy I posted on mumsnet (first mistake, right there) that I was irritated that someone had told me having a child would be, "the best thing you will ever do" (as opposed to my professional or personal achievements that didn't just require some unprotected sex to get off the ground) and got an unsurprising amount of ire back in return. Now I get it. I have done and will do many more things in my life that make me proud but none of them will make me feel like this. 

On the flip side of this parental bliss, within a few months of being on maternity leave I had also learned some truths about myself - namely that I am someone who needs mental stimulation in the form of work in order to be happy in the home - that's a nice way to say I was climbing the walls and grateful at the end of my mat leave. That's OK and it's not selfish - I am a far better mother for being happy in myself and work is a big part of that for me personally (but not for everyone and not everyone has the privilege of being able to work that I do either).

Taking your child home for the first time: Because of my complications me and Maeby stayed in overnight after she was born so we'd already had a night alone together on the ward - which began in fine style as she filled her first nappy precisely 30 seconds after my mum and partner left to get some sleep and at the exact moment I realised I'd never changed a nappy. I think that might be a good metaphor for new motherhood in itself. 

I muddled through, with the help of a kindly nurse who told me that, no, the tabs aren't meant to have actual glue on them but promised me they would work anyway. I was dubious then and I remain so today. 

Maeby was born at the end of May and overnight there was a big summer storm with thunder and lightening - she mostly slept and fed through the night but I was too wired to sleep so I watched it raging from the window and felt simply amazed at the world. 

We were told we were ready to be discharged by lunchtime but there was a staff shortage and being the good middle class NHS lovers we are we kept telling the staff to take their time...we were discharged at 3am. Taxi home and my lovely mum had stocked our fridge with food so we took a picnic to bed and just stared and stared and stared at our little friend.

The best/worst advice: The best advice came from the many wonderful mothers in my life: do what you want. There is so much weight put on the importance of ensuring you're doing the right thing at all times but every kid is different, every mum is different, every day is different, and everyone's definition of "right" is different - if it works and you're happy don't beat yourself up about it. Also buy lots of biscuits and store up the box sets of stuff you want to watch for the post birth month - makes getting up at 3am almost pleasurable.

The worst advice is something I've heard pedalled time and time again - "sleep when they sleep". The problem with that is that you don't know how long they're going to sleep for - I've always wished that babies would display some sort of digital countdown-to-wakeup clock once they're asleep so you could at least decide whether to bother starting something instead of convincing yourself they're just about to wake up and sitting on the sofa for three hours (not in itself a bad thing, but frustrating when you've lots to do). 

When you're truly sleep deprived the definition of hell is following the "sleep when they sleep" advice, closing your eyes for five minutes only to be woken up - yet again - by a screaming child. No. Just, no.

The hardest parts of being a mother:
The not knowing: not knowing if you will get a decent night's sleep; not knowing if you will have a battle on your hands or a pleasant evening; not knowing if it's worth spending thousands of pounds on a family holiday or whether you should stay at home because you'll be miserable and/or ill; but most of all the not knowing - ever - if you're doing the right thing by them. 

To go back to the work analogy - if I have a work project that I am passionate about I will throw everything I can at making sure that I understand the implications of every action on that project, with kids you can't do that and I am far more passionate than I ever have been about anything at work. It kills me.

The best parts of being a mother:

Seeing my little scrap emerging into this funny, interested, imaginative little person - nothing beats it. Something that's surprised me is the camaraderie amongst parents, online and in person - I'm a member of several groups in both spaces which have genuinely helped when I needed it most.

Has becoming a mother changed you?

Yes. I am a determined person but having Maeby has somehow galvenised that determination and I am much more action-orientated. I am far more patient, by necessity, and I am far more driven to make things happen and do good work. I'm not sure how much of that is *for* her and how much is resultant from the experience of bringing her into the world and recognising that, despite my misgivings, I am actually very good at loving her.

Hopes for your family: Cliche alert: when I was pregnant I remember describing to a friend how I hoped she would be funny, clever, brave etc and my friend interjected with a gentle nudge "..and happy?". I dismissed that because I didn't realise how much it would come to mean to me - it's all I want - for her to be happy - what we do as a familly is all motivated by that at it's heart. In a way it's given me a purpose I think I lacked before.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums?:

Oh my god, just do what works for you! If you want to breastfeed, if you can't breastfeed, if you want to use disposable nappies, if you want to stay at home, if you want or even need to go back to work three weeks after they're born: it. Is. Fine. 

You being happy is going to have far more bearing on how happy they are than whether they eat organic food or not - just concentrate on that and the rest will fall into place. And remember that anyone who offers you advice only has their experience - their children (or not!) - to base that advice on - it's not the law, it's just what worked for them, if it doesn't work for you it doesn't mean you've failed, it means your kid is a glorious, frustrating little person all of their very own.

Helen is one of the founder directors of Levenshulme Market and for a day job work in communications for The University of Manchester.

Claire, Reuben and Isaac

Name: Claire 

Children: Reuben (8) and Isaac (20m)

Location: Sale, Manchester

Expectations of Motherhood: Daunting, exciting, confusing. There’s quite a big gap between my boys so my expectations were quite different for each of them. First time around, I think I worried more about the ‘logistical’ side of getting a baby out of my belly and how this new addition would impact my life. Now when I look back, it was probably quite selfish. Second time around, I was still a little anxious, but more about the effect a sibling would have on my son, how the two of them would get on and how I could provide everything they needed. 

Reality of Motherhood: 24/7 contradictions. Motherhood really is a rollercoaster. You can laugh, cry, be overwhelmed with energy and feel absolutely shattered all in one day. Sometimes I feel like I’m kicking ass at this parenting lark, sometimes I’m surprised my kids have turned out ok (so far!). I’d love to give them everything they want at the click of a finger, but then I want them to have values and appreciate hard work. I deal with some pretty demanding clients, but none of them compare to how demanding children are. They are such unpredictable beings.

I’ll be honest, both of my labours were fairly straight forward (even with the pain), so my entry to motherhood, so to speak, was fairly smooth. What really shocked me, both times, was just how powerful sleep deprivation is. There were times when my body was in pain because of tiredness. The monotony of feeding for hours, changing nappies, wiping puke was tough, but it was the tiredness that got me.

Yet, in spite of it being so bewildering, it is bloody brilliant.

Taking your children home for the first time: I took Reuben home after one night in hospital and couldn't stop staring at him. I was quite overwhelmed with emotions and even shocked. I couldn't believe this little person was all mine and now I'd have to look after him and be responsible for his future…forever. With Isaac, I felt less overwhelmed by his presence but more nervous about how I’d love and treat my sons equally.   

The best/worst advice: Worst - sleep when baby sleeps. A bit of a cliche, but everyone knows how difficult it is to do. Best - do your pelvic floor exercises! In all seriousness, it is important to think about your health and wellness as much your babies’.

Photo taken by Reuben

The hardest parts of being a mother: Always questioning your decisions. No matter how confident I might be, there’s always a little voice asking if I’ve made the right decision when it comes to doing things for my children, even with the smallest of things. I want to push them to achieve their best, but I also want them to be free and enjoy their childhood. At the same time I want to protect them from the outside world and all of the terrible things happening, but I also want to make sure they are enlightened and aware of the challenges the world faces.

I’m extremely aware of just how much children learn from example, so there’s the additional pressure for me to speak and behave in a way that I’d want them to reflect. I don’t think I set a bad example, but I often wonder if I’m setting the best example. 

Knowing that I’m responsible for ensuring they become positive contributors to the world, is very scary. There’s no rehearsal, no chance to start again and I don’t want to ruin it for them.

The best parts of being a mother: Love. Love is an amazing feeling, but the love I have for my children is crazy. There isn’t a day goes by when my heart doesn’t smile because of them, even after the most stressful or emotional of days. My kids are bloody hilarious - at least I think they are. I love the fact we can all laugh together, even with the 7 year age gap of the kids! I genuinely feel so lucky to have the honour of being their mother. And even though I don’t tell him nearly enough, its made me love my husband more. He’s a great father and makes me a better mother. We have become a much stronger team now that we are parents.

Has becoming a mother changed you? I wouldn’t say its changed me, more like refined me. I have all of the same characteristics and personality traits I had pre-kids, but some have become more prominent since motherhood, whilst others have taken a step back. I don’t know how much of this transition has been intentional, but I’m definitely happy with the person I am because of becoming a mother.For the first few months of motherhood and maternity leave, I did feel like I’d lost my sense of self, probably because of the sleep deprivation! I felt like I was just an extension of my babies. But with time, once my confidence went back to normal, as did my sleeping patterns, I felt like ‘me’ again. In fact I felt like a better version of me, that didn’t really care what others thought.

I know my priorities have changed since becoming a mother. Not just superficial things like what I spend my money on, but how I spend my time and energy and who’s opinions of me actually matter (I’ll give you a clue, not many).

Hopes for your family: That we work together as a unit to support each other to grow and achieve our goals. That we continue to laugh together. I want my children to have opportunities. Success is important, whatever that means, but I want them to be in a position whereby they have the confidence to pursue their dreams and aspirations and celebrate who they are as individuals. I hope they will become good people with good, positive friendships. Ultimately I want them to be happy.

Now that I’m a mother myself I’m so much more grateful to my own mother for the hard work and sacrifices she made for me and my siblings. She moved here from Ghana when she was just 18. She worked extremely hard to give us all a good education and showed us the importance of hard work and self-worth. I just hope I don’t let all of her dedication go to waste through my own approach to motherhood!

I want my children to be aware of just how blessed they are to have the lifestyles they have been given, thanks to the decisions my mother made back in the 70s.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Listen to what everyone has to say, but don’t necessarily do it! If you don’t agree with or admire someone’s parenting style, why would you copy what they do? Every child, parent and situation are different, so what works for one person wouldn't work for another. Your instinct will be good at telling you what’s right for your child and your circumstances. At the same time, I think its really important to establish your own ‘mum squad’. Whether they are from your NCT, antenatal group, Rhyme Time, it doesn’t matter. What matters is having like- minded people to share and air your troubles and concerns with. Nine times out of ten, they’ll totally understand. And if they don’t they’ll probably have cake (or Prosecco)! Oh and do your pelvic floor exercises.

Follow Claire on her blog mumsomnia.wordpress.com or on Twitter @aniteyec 

Tamsin and Jude

Name: Tamsin 

Child: Jude, 15 weeks 

Location: Ashton-under-lyne

Expectations of Motherhood: I didn't know what to expect. I thought I'd be very tired, that I'd still want my own me-time on a regular basis, I hoped I'd be calm and collected and a 'perfect' mother, whatever that means. I had definite do's and don'ts: go back to the gym a month after he was born, keep up with my former active social life (what was I thinking), get into a routine early on, all became 'didn't happen'. The don'ts included - use dummies, co-sleep, breastfeed in public, feed formula. These all happened at some point and there were many more!!

Reality of Motherhood: Well, it is very tiring, but so worth it. It can be stressful at times; as this is my first baby almost every rash, cry, weight gain, weight loss and bowel movement has induced anxiety and worry that I don't know what the hell I'm doing, and I am responsible for this tiny individual. But I love it so much, I never really understood how much love you could feel for someone. Clichéd, I know. I also never thought babies were that interesting, I thought they came into their own when they got a bit bigger. I was so wrong; I'm astounded and bewitched by how much he changes on a daily basis and how he can stop me in my tracks and forget what I'm doing to watch this new sound or action he's making. Your baby's smile can only be cringingly described as 'heart melting', I've asked other new mum's and they've said the same!!

Taking your child home for the first time: My waters had broken on the 16th Sept (a month before Jude was due) and then no contractions came. I wasn't induced until the 18th sept, which meant he was at risk of infection and so I had to stay in. He didn't have to endure what some early babies and poor families have to go through, but at just under 4 weeks early he was small. But he had to have a canula fitted (for his antibiotics) as his infection markers were too high. He then became jaundiced so he had to have phototherapy for a few days. This was dreadful as he didn't like being under the light and wanted to be held, so my husband would sit up with him for hours with his arm around Jude or his finger in his mouth (before we managed to buy a dummy) to comfort him. 

A week later when we got the all clear (after fears that we'd have to stay because his weight had dropped a little too much and his temperature was slightly low). We were ecstatic to take him home. My husband had decided to ask my sisters and aunt round for our first night home with him, so we weren't completely alone, but none of us really knew what we were doing. We'd forgotten that we were then going to be on our own and look after him! 

After a few days home, the midwife tested him for jaundice again and his levels were high, so we were back in again for a few days. The second time we left was with more trepidation, I kept worrying we'd have to go back in, especially when I had to take him in for blood tests and a urine test (extremely awkward to do, if you're asking) for prolonged jaundice. But despite all the (new) worrying, all was well.

Best advice: You really can't plan, so don't beat yourself up if things don't happen the way you want. 

I'd bought so many items of clothing for a bigger baby (everyone I knew told me I was going to have a big baby). When he was under 6lbs and dropped further down, we had to buy more. I really had wanted to breast feed, but I wasn't producing enough milk, so Jude wasn't gaining weight as he should, I hadn't considered formula at all and felt like a failure when I couldn't solely breastfed, because that's what I'd planned. I'd also planned to have a water birth, but because I was induced on a drip, I couldn't. 

Pregnancy and bringing up a baby is all about going with the flow and taking each day as it comes (so far, for me, anyway). From someone who hates poor punctuality and enjoys being organised, this is something I am still learning to embrace...

Also, bring spare changes of clothes for baby (and you, where possible) wherever you go. I have walked around the Christmas markets with baby sick down my hair and coat for an afternoon last November, Jude remained unsoiled on that occasion, I looked like a scruff!

Worst advice: About labour, so many people (both women and men) wanted to tell me about theirs/their partners horrific labour stories and that I should take all the drugs on offer. Telling a first-time, pregnant women this is not helpful. Baby is going to have to come out, so this 'advice', particularly from men, who haven't actually squeezed out a baby themselves, is not helpful. I had a relatively easy labour (once I was finally induced), but everyone is different, every mother in my NCT group had a different experience. Some would do it again, others wouldn't. You just know that you get your baby at the end, so just keep going! 

The hardest parts of being a mother: I wasn't a particularly chilled individual before having Jude, so I don't think this happens to every mum. But I do worry. Often. Am I doing this right? Is he eating enough? Why doesn't he like tummy time?! Should he be doing this or that by now? It is the most responsibility you will ever have and you just want to do it right. 

The best parts of being a mother: I'm well aware that I come across as a walking, talking cliché, but... There seems to be a million little things that make it the best thing, without doubt, that I have ever done. Seeing the pieces of you, mixed with the man you love, is really magical. We still look at him and say to each other "I can't believe he's here and he's ours". 

The satisfaction you get out of a smile or a coo and being the one to soothe him when he's upset, compare to no other feeling I've had. When I feel like I'm at the end of my tether because everything is going wrong, I've not slept and I have baby sick in my hair, I get a little smile from him and I feel alright. Little victories, like finally getting him out the house to go for a walk in the sunshine make me feel like the most triumphant mother in the world! I've always known that I wanted to have children, but until I had him, I never knew how much happiness it would bring to my life. 


Has becoming a mother changed you? I was a complete social butterfly, I loved going out, making plans for travels and gigs. I definitely enjoyed the odd (bottle) of Prosecco. Everyone told me I'd find it so hard not being able to do all the social things I enjoyed. But I wouldn't change a thing, in fact I found it hard going out for a haircut and colour (as I was about a 4 hour round trip without him). Now, my plans revolve around Jude, I have a new social focus... baby sensory, baby yoga and have made new friends via NCT and my lovely (post-baby) friends make plans that will include Jude, too. I'm currently trying to figure out how to bring Jude to a Kings of Leon concert in Hyde park in the summer so I don't have to be without him for a night! I certainly haven't hankered for any Prosecco since Jude's arrival either, how times have changed!

Hopes for your family: I want Jude to be happy, first and foremost, and a good and respectful human being. I come from a diverse family, Indian and Burmese (and Cornish) grandparents, so I would like to teach Jude about his mixed background and take him to these places one day, to learn about where he comes from. I hope we all grow together, we're all learning about what it is to be a family and my husband and I don't always agree on how to do parenting things. We're still learning to compromise and listen to the other's opinion on the matter, but generally, it's making us a closer unit. I hope this continues and Jude grows up with his parents together, in a loving and happy environment. I hope we're lucky enough to give him more siblings, but right now, I'm just going to keep enjoying (and learning from) what each new day (and sleep-broken) night brings.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums? Try not to compare yourself to other mums: how your bump looks against others, how your baby can't lift his head up but your friend's baby did it a month earlier... There are so many things being said to you about how to be the perfect mum and how to raise the happiest baby, but you should just try to be your own version of perfect and happy. I am still trying to digest this advice myself, but it is slowly sneaking in. 

Additional info:

2016 was a tough year for me. At the start of the year my paternal grandfather passed away suddenly, then I was made redundant the day after his funeral. Jude is his 19th great-grandchild. 

He was always asking us when we were going to have a baby as he loved his ever-growing family so much. The week after his funeral I found out I was pregnant after almost 2 years of trying (and on my husband's birthday). My maternal grandmother was then diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and died 3 months to-the-day before her first great grandson was born. She managed to knit a lovely outfit for him before she passed away, which was what we took him home in. We had joked that it was far too small for a baby of my husband's and in the end it was just perfect for our little man. The one thing that kept me positive and strong this year was knowing that I would have my little boy with us by October. I don't know why my beloved Nana and Grandpa weren't able to be around to meet Jude, but it was just meant to be.

Jane, Wilf, Bertie and Iris

Name: Jane 

Children: Wilf, 7, Bertie, 4, Iris, 11 weeks, 
and Baby Zee, 
Stillborn at 40 + 4 in September 2013

Location: Chorlton 

Expectations of Motherhood: I had wanted to be a mum for as long as I could remember, having a pretty good one myself I was lured into a false sense of security that motherhood was a bit of a breeze. I envisaged long, rosy days of cuddles, coos and calm; I dreamed I would be brilliant at it. 

Reality of Motherhood: It isn't easy, it isn't a bit of a breeze and my days are certainly not the utopia of cuddles/coos/calm that I imagined. It is, hands down, the hardest job I've ever done - and I deal with hundreds of challenging teenagers for a living. That said, it is without a doubt the most rewarding, amazing and fulfilling role I have ever played. In any given day I can be a hundred different people - cook, cleaner, butler, teacher, doctor, nurse, dentist, spy, superheroine, playdoh modeller extraordinaire - the list goes on - and I love that about motherhood, the variety of it, the unpredictability of it. 

There is also, still, the unbelievability that I made them! I love that picture of Wonderwoman with the caption, ‘I grow humans, what’s your super power?’, sums it up just perfectly.

The growing humans element is amazing but in very rare cases things don't work out with this little person you have been growing inside you for 9 months and often dreaming of for even longer. The reality of being a bereaved parent is shockingly awful, something that you can never be prepared for and something you should never have to be. Losing our daughter at full-term has taught me a lot of things, most significantly to make the most of every single minute I have with my babies; I have come face to face with many women who would give anything to be a mother for the first time, and even for the second and third time, and I think of them often these days as I cuddle my three crazies and remember the one in the sky who didn't quite make it but left a huge imprint on all of our hearts. 


Taking your children home for the first time: aaaargh! It felt like we'd drawn a lot of money out of the bank and everyone knew we had it on us; driving home from the hospital I was convinced that we were somehow more at risk than before, that someone would definitely crash into us, that the whole world knew we had this precious bundle in the car and were all out to get him. And there it began, the worry of being a parent, the innate mechanism you have to protect your child against any harm. Once home, we set him down on the living room floor and looked at each other - both terrified even at the prospect of getting him out of his car seat. Eventually we got him out and showed him around his new home; even to this day I can hear my husband's little speech for the different Mr Men and Little Miss characters in his bedroom, it was something he did from that moment on almost every night with Wilf before bath time/bedtime. I also remember that feeling that he might break, he seemed so small and fragile and I was convinced I was going to trip and drop him. It took a lovely midwife to show me that, actually, they were pretty hardy things these babies and it needn't take me half an hour to get him out of his vest! 

With Iris I felt such a sense of relief to be walking out of the hosptial with a baby who was alive and well, the trauma of the pregnancy and the difficult process of her birth seemed to drop away from me with each step I took towards the hospital exit and I remember sitting in the car with her screaming at the top of her lungs in the back with her two brothers covering their ears and giggling and having a secret smile to myself thinking 'I've done it.'

Best advice: I heard somewhere to remember that your voice becomes their inner voice, to speak to them how you want them to talk to you, how you want them to talk to themselves. I remember telling my eldest off last summer for growling when he became frustrated with something, then only a day or so later I was disgruntled at some minor misdemeanour and I heard myself growl in temper. You are their teacher, their role model - be the best one you can be. 

My second bit of good advice was to listen to your heart, as a mum you know (or can work out) what's best for your child. You don't need to follow the crowd – with Wilf everyone seemed to be doing baby-led weaning, but it all seemed like a bit of a faff to me and my boys were hungry babies, chewing on a bits of food was not going to fill them up so I decided to go 'old school' and wean them as my mum had done with me...baby rice, mush, chunky mush etc. It worked for us and I don't think my boys are at any disadvantage for not leading their own weaning programme! 

Worst advice: The worst came from a midwife who told me to eat like it was the 1970s when I was breastfeeding. It turns out that wasn't true and all that cream, butter, full-fat milk and cake I took great delight in eating not only stuck to my thighs (and I am sure is still there now) but seemed to create a rather podge-some baby who tipped off the end of the centile charts, resembled a small Buddha and was an absolute nightmare to lift up to the sky in our baby yoga classes!

Also the whole 'sleep whilst your baby sleeps mantra' that was uttered, it seemed, from every angle never seemed to materialise. If I ever managed to get my babies to sleep during the day in the house, it was nothing short of a small miracle, so after the initial few minutes of congratulating myself on my major achievement I spent the rest of their slumber (anything from 5 minutes upwards) running round like a crazy horse doing laundry, tidying, making the tea. This time round I am trying to do more relaxing as I know only too well that return to work will be here before I know it. 

The hardest parts of being a mother: definitely the guilt and the worry. The guilt comes from whether you are doing enough with and for your baby/children. When the return to work happens, if it has to, there's a sense that you are not doing any of your roles (mum, wife, friend, sister, employee etc) as well as you possibly could be. Coming to realise that you can't be perfect in every role is a tough thing to accept. 

The worry of parenthood has shocked me, I was a worrier before but my hubby has (probably rightly) recently diagnosed me as a 'catastrophic thinker,' particularly in terms of the children’s health. It takes all my self-control to stop myself from self-diagnosing a rash as meningitis or worse. This has definitely been compounded by losing our first daughter at full-term without any warning at all; that's made me feel that the rug can be ripped out from under us in the click of a finger. I speak to many mums who identify with this worry of motherhood, who worry and panic over any symptom of illness their child presents with and they haven't experienced a stillbirth. I think for some of us, it goes with the territory these babies are your most precious things and I know my mum still worries about me now; finding strategies to help with the worry and help to calm concerns definitely helps - Doctor Google is most certainly not your friend.

The best parts of being a mother: the love! The unconditional love and foreverness that comes with them all. The fact that they love you madly and absolutely, even though you might make them eat just one more carrot or tidy away their box of stones that have been thoughtfully tipped all over the floor or clean their dirty knees or brush their hair, they still utterly think you are the bees’ knees. I love the sloppiness of their love too; the fact that they will just kiss you for no reason, bundle you over in a hug that has no limits, kiss you for so long you almost can't breathe. I love that they need me, I think we all like to be needed. Whether it's the primal need of the newborn who needs nappies changing or boobs for feeding or the toddler who needs you to help them master the art of walking or the 7 year old who wants to know what the word 'internationally' means or why you can't surf on the lava from a volcano. Being a mum is amazing. 

Has becoming a mother changed you? it's made me a little less frenetic, a little more anxious and a little better at baking and playing at being a superhero. It has made me feel incredibly fortunate and more proud than I ever though possible of these people we have made. 

Losing Baby Zee has made me more aware of the silent mothers who walk amongst us, mothers without babies here on earth but still mothers none-the-less; there are times when I catch one of these mums watching me in the street, looking at me and my three children. She doesn't say anything but she doesn't need to, her look is one I know all too well as it's a look that I used myself to look upon so many mums in the days and weeks that followed our loss. Mums with girls, mums with three children, mums with two boys and a girl, mums with newborns. I don't say anything back to her, I don't even catch her eye but in my heart I send her a hug because being that mum is so, so tough. Before our loss, I wouldn't even have seen her. 

Hopes for your family: that we always love each other, laugh with each other, support each other and be the best team we can be. It sounds cliched but I truly hope that my children will be happy, that they will dream big and that they will utterly love their lives. 

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums?

1. Follow your heart not the crowd.

2. Capture memories because they will be gone in the blink of an eye - whether it's a letter you write every year on their birthday, a yearly family photo album you make with all your amazing photographs of everything you have done in that year or a memory box filled with momentos.

3. Make as much time as you can for them now, for it won't be long before they don't want to bundle you over with a hug or give you kisses that have no end. 

There’s a beautiful poem called The Last Time, the poet is anonymous but it has the lovely lines of:

"You will read a final bedtime story and wipe your last dirty face

The thing is, you won’t know it’s the last time. 

Until there are no more times, and even then, it will take you a while to realise. 

So while you are living in these times, 

remember there are only so many of them and when they are gone, 

you will yearn for just one more day of them.”

4. As they grow give them a variety of experiences which encourage them to be individuals and enable them to experience the wonder of the world. Whether it's experiencing a range of different types of holiday or trying different baby groups or something as simple as playing with a range of different toys - it's always amazed me that even though the boys have been raised with the same moral compass, their likes and dislikes are so different.

5. Try and get some baby friends before baby number 1 arrives, my NCT group and the mums I met at antenatal yoga were a huge source of support for me in those early days of not knowing what the heck was going on, and even now, 7 years on, some of them are my closest friends – bonded by our shared start in this thing we call motherhood. 

Extra Info: Jane is a deputy headteacher in East Manchester.