Jo, Lucy, Ava and Chloe

Name: Jo

Children: Lucy 9, Ava 6 and Chloe 3 

Location: Didsbury

Expectations of Motherhood: Si and I met when we were teenagers. We went to University and moved in together, then bought our house, got married and babies were next.... that’s how it happens isn’t it? 

Except after all those years of trying not to get pregnant I thought it’d be so easy, you know – stop taking those little pills and hey presto 40 weeks later a gorgeous baby and so on. I imagined a lovely little boy who’d look just like his Daddy, I’d breast feed, go to playgroups, have the patience of a saint and juggle motherhood with work no problem.... hahaha. 

Reality of Motherhood: Well I never expected my pregnancy to fail; to lose my precious miracle before it’s had even had a chance, and then the next one too. This was a heartbreaking journey but 3rd time was lucky for us and we welcomed our gorgeous Lucy Loo into the world 9 years ago after a horrendous labour and birth, which I swore I would never ever ever put myself through again. 

Motherhood was what I expected and more, this tiny person who I’d never thought would be here was real. I adored her, I hated it when even my husband took her out it was so intense. I tried breastfeeding and found it really hard. It hurt like hell, my nipples bled and I was so nervous about feeding her in public I timed going out around feeds, it was crazy. 

I then one day was holding Luce - she was 8 weeks old - and I had this truly horrible feeling; I was petrified I’d hurt her. I had to go and put her in her cot as I just couldn’t hold her. It was terrible. To love someone so much, but then be so scared of them at the same time. These intense feelings went on for 2 years until I was diagnosed with severe PND – seriously.. 2 bloody years! I was never going to have another baby...

Then we decided we needed to at least try and give Lucy a sibling. So we tried again. 2 more miscarriages followed then on the third go we conceived Ava. Ava is a determined little soul. I had bleeds throughout the pregnancy, bad ones, I remember going for the scans weekly as even the midwives thought I’d lost her numerous times, but there was her little heartbeat beating on the screen. 

I was petrified about my PND returning and had CBT therapy whilst pregnant to help with my feelings. It was great! Ava arrived without any problems and the birth was a much better experience. Yes it hurt, but I was in control and was home within 6 hours. It was so different than my experience with Lucy’s birth. 

I was more in control this time round, less panicked and coped a lot better, breast feeding was fantastic this time too and I have to admit I fed her until she was 2. The funny thing was as soon as I got home from the hospital that day with Ava, I knew I had to do it again. I was desperate to! It took 2 years to convince my lovely husband that it *would* be a good idea to have 3 children as 2 was far too neat! It was fabulous. I finally got my textbook pregnancy and an amazing really enjoyable delivery. Honestly.  

Taking your children home for the first time: I remember when we brought Lucy home, how tiny she looked in the car seat, how slow we drove, how we got home and showed her around the house (even though she was asleep) and then thought ok...what on earth do we do now?! 

Taking Ava home was easier, I didn’t feel quite as unwell and I remember going to my neighbours sons 5th birthday party in the back garden with my brand new baby. Someone asked how old she was and I suddenly realised she was 9 hours old...think I was still high as a kite as I went on a bouncy castle and managed to not let my insides fall out. 

Chloe came home to two very excited big sisters, so that again was a different experience.  A busy household where the chance of having any rest was very slim. But I finally felt like my family was complete. Those first days I was shattered, but very happy. 

The hardest parts of being a mother: The continuous worry that everyone is happy, healthy and that you aren’t doing something totally wrong that is going to damage your children forever. 

The fact that I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep for more than two consecutive nights, for over 9 years, yep 9 years. 

The juggling of relationships, when your child comes home and is sad because someone’s been mean... it really hurts. 

Sibling rivalry is awful, the fights, the noise, the handprints up the walls and the washing.

Arrgghhh how can 3 small people make so much mess?! 

Wondering if you and your partner are ever going to go out beyond the local neighbourhood ever again? 

In fact just to talk about something that isn’t child related would be amazing. 

Juggling my job as a remote pa with the demands of a young family. I know they feel like I’m always working sometimes, but I love that after 9 years of being a ‘Mummy’ first and foremost, I have built my own little career again. 

The best parts of being a mother: Seeing the personalities of the little people you created emerging from the tiny bodies and screwed up faces. 

The dependency on you, although scary as hell, is also truly magical. 

Your children’s faces when they do something new or manage something for the first time. 

The unconditional love. 

Seeing the relationships within your family change and grow. 

Your toddler saying ‘Love you Mama’ and really meaning it! 

Best Advice: Bin the books! This came from my Mum. I was so desperate first time round to get into a routine, and failed every time. It took me a while to realise that babies kind of get themselves into a routine when they are ready, but then they also change it just as you start to get used to it! 

Worst Advice: To keep breastfeeding with my first child, I endured 6 months of pain, when really I should have just admitted defeat and given her a bottle. I used to dread every feed and think this contributed to my PND. Yes breastfeeding is fab, cheap, a lovely bonding experience and I had that the next times round but if your nipples feel like they are going to fall off for 6 months, don’t beat yourself up about using a bottle! 

Advice for new/expectant mums: Enjoy every precious moment. It goes so so fast. 3rd time round I feel like if I blink I’m going to miss it. Before I know it they’ll all be at school. 

Go with your instincts, you really are the best person for your baby. 

Try a few different playgroups; meeting other mum’s is a great way of realising you are feeling ‘normal’ but it took me a few goes to find some that weren’t petrifying cliquey. 

Be kind to yourself! You are going to be very tired for a while, so does that washing really need putting away right now?....

Claire, Grace and Faye

 Name: Claire

Children: Grace (18yrs), Faye (12yrs) and Sam (died aged 6 months)

Location: Manchester

Expectations of motherhood: I suppose I just always assumed I would be a mum. I am one of four and I reckon I always had a very traditional view of how my life would pan out – career, marriage, children, in that order. I also always dreamt I would have three children. Four seemed too many; can’t fit in a standard car, need more bedrooms, costs too much to go on holiday etc.

I don’t think I had any firm ideas of what sort of a mother I wanted to be. My mum never worked when we were children and dad worked long hours and was often away from home. Although it was good to have her there every day after school and home-made meals were a bonus, I remember her being quite stressed caring for four children and probably frustrated with her dependence on my dad. Consequently I think it was important to me that I could have a balance between career and family life and therefore part-time work has been the solution.

I never considered not having children and I never thought they would be anything other than perfect and healthy.
Reality of motherhood: When I became pregnant with Grace I was delighted. I remember telling my family and feeling really special. I thoroughly enjoyed being pregnant and had no sickness or back pain – it was a text-book pregnancy culminating in a really quick, easy birth. When I became pregnant for the second time I just assumed all would be the same. The pregnancy progressed in much the same way as the first. 

This all came to a crashing halt when we went to the clinic for my routine anomaly scan at 20 weeks. The sonographer explained what she was looking at and we nodded vague agreement. Suddenly she stopped talking and it was immediately obvious that she was concerned. She asked if she could get her supervisor to come and have a look and together they discussed our unborn baby. Finally they told us that they were unable to see all four chambers of the heart and although this might be due to the baby’s position they would like us to attend the specialist cardiology clinic at another hospital the following day.

The next day the cardiologist delivered the devastating news that our baby had the life-threatening heart defect Hypoplastic Left Heart and could die within 72 hours of birth if not operated on. What followed was 4 months of anxiety, tears and prayers for a miracle. I was scanned fortnightly just to have the terrible prognosis re-affirmed again and again. The option of a termination was offered but we desperately wanted to give him the chance to fight. My first pregnancy had ended in excited anticipation and a yearning to see my baby. This pregnancy, my mothering instinct was to protect him and I dreaded going into labour. I knew that whilst my baby was inside me he was safe and protected. To give birth would mean handing him over to the medical profession and would start a journey that I really did not want to go on and life would never be the same again.




Sam was born at the specialist maternity unit and within minutes of delivery he was taken from us to the Intensive Care Unit where he had a barrage of blood tests, scans and examinations. I felt out of control and numb, I wanted to tell them to stop but knew that they had to do it. I wanted to pick him up, walk out and take him home like I had with Grace. We were asked to make decisions about operations that offered no guarantee of cure, versus no treatment, which would inevitable result in death within days. Eventually we agreed to the surgery which would be just the first operation in a series of three that he would need. We were transferred by ambulance to Alder Hey Hospital within hours of delivery and the operation was scheduled for 48hours time. During that time Sam was christened by the hospital chaplain and family and friends came to visit us in Liverpool.

The operation took 8 hours and Sam spent 3 weeks on the Intensive Care Unit where we had several scary moments of being called to his bedside in the middle of the night because he was so poorly. However he was a strong little boy and he made it to the ward where he spent a further 3 weeks getting stronger and preparing for home. Home for the past 6 weeks had been the family accommodation at the hospital and the other families we met became close friends and support to us. Grace stayed with us the whole time with just the occasional day trip back to Manchester with friends and family. However I hated her going and wanted to keep her with me – I felt out of control at times and needed the comfort of those who loved me close to me.

Sam died suddenly during a routine operation aged 6 months. Our world came crashing in. He had fought so hard and endured so much during his little life that I couldn’t believe he was gone. I had spent every day totally absorbed in his care, expressing breast milk because he had difficulty latching on to the breast, administering medication every 4 hours and lovely activities like lavender massages and singing songs to him which would make him giggle with delight. Grace had been the perfect big sister, never jealous of the attention Sam needed and would be my little helper at nappy times. During these dark days I had chance to reflect and I took some comfort in the fact that we had had opportunity to know and love our little boy. He gave us so much, he galvanised our relationship and the family unit and he made us realise that all the money in the world, big house, nice cars, career are just not as important as your family and keeping them safe and healthy.

When I discovered I was pregnant with Faye I was apprehensive and scared. The upset and anger of ‘why me’ when I discovered Sam’s condition was replaced with the realisation of ‘why not me’. We knew the probability with Sam had been 1:5000 and the odds of it happening again was the same but we now knew we couldn’t take it for granted that our baby would be born healthy. I had a fantastic midwife and GP who supported me through the pregnancy and it was with their backing that I made the decision to have only one anomaly scan (we had become experts on analysing the heart chambers on scans!). I then went on to request a home delivery, which shocked many of the hospital staff but it was important to me that I was in control and had minimal medical intervention.

Faye was born at home with just 2 midwives present while Grace played in the other room …it was perfect and so was she! For us, she made our family complete, we had had our three children and she was the image of her brother, same big brown eyes and loved the lavender massages.

Taking your children home for the first time: Well, for us all three were different! Bringing Grace home was very special, it was Christmas Day and we were scared but excited at the prospect of discovering what sort of parents we would be. We knew our lives would never be the same again and this tiny baby became our world. There were tears of exhaustion and thoughts of, ‘how are we ever going to get through these early weeks?’ But we did and we soon settled into the routines around Grace.

Bringing Sam home for the first time when he was 6 weeks old was amazing! We couldn’t believe we had finally got him to ourselves and so many times we didn’t dare allow ourselves to imagine this day ever coming. We had lived day by day or even hour by hour when we were on ITU but now it was our turn to simply be mummy, daddy and big sister. The machines, hospital beds, uniforms and noise was over and we could start doing all the normal things like shared baths, walks in the park and Grace lying on the carpet chatting away to him!

Faye being born at home makes the house very special to us and I can’t imagine ever moving. The normality and comfort of Faye’s birth was such a stark contrast to Sam’s and I so appreciate the midwives, GP and my husband for supporting me in my decision. I’m sure they were all a little scared but they didn’t show it!
The best and worst advice: I can’t remember! I think over time you realise that you are the expert on your own children. It’s important to speak to the health visitor, family, friends, read the books and trawl the internet but after listening to everyone, take on board the bits that fit and forget the rest. Remember advice is just that – you don’t have to follow it to the letter.




The hardest part of being a mother: Having been a mother for 18yrs now I’d say there are no hard parts. Being a mother is me, it’s what I am, so it’s not hard. There are times when you feel stressed when children have tantrums, don’t eat, won’t go to sleep but this is more about my coping strategies and how I’m feeling. At every stage as they grow up there are new challenges and you realise that you grow together and every child is different. The hard part for me now is coping with Grace going to University this month. The time passes so quickly and although I am going to miss seeing her every day we are immensely proud of her and all that she has achieved. Consequently we are proud of ourselves that as parents we have assisted her along the way and she is embarking on a new independent chapter in her life as a sociable, confident and hard-working young woman – who wouldn’t be proud!
The best part of being a mum: All of it! As a mum you experience the full range of emotions. You worry when they’re poorly, won’t eat, when they start school, leave school, go out with friends and when they’re coming home from a night out in Manchester at 4am! You get angry when they won’t share, fight with their siblings, answer you back and lie on the sofa all day watching TV. You cry when you’re tired and they won’t sleep, when the breastfeeding hurts, when they start school, leave school, when their relationships break-up, when they cry!! But you laugh lots and lots, when they giggle for the first time, when they sing and dance for you, when they say the funniest things (write them down because you forget!), when you find the same things funny on TV and realise that you love their company and personalities. But probably the best part is simply being there for them. Giving them your time when they need to talk, listening to their worries and sharing their joy.

Hopes for your family:
That both my girls will stay healthy, happy and close as sisters.
That they will have loving relationships and fulfilling careers.
That they will know that we are always there for them andThat they will come and visit us in our old age!



What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Enjoy it, but be prepared to be questioned about decisions you make and have the humility to admit if you’re wrong. Parenting is a massive learning curve and every stage in your children’s lives brings new challenges but also joy and pride that you will never experience in any other aspect of your life. Make time for your children, be available physically and emotionally so they know they can talk to you about anything. But also make time for yourself and for your relationship. Eat well, exercise and be a role model for your children and when the time comes for them to move on, share in their excitement knowing that you have done your best as a mother and believe it when everyone tells you they are going to be just fine……

Claire runs http://www.pramactive.co.uk an outdoor postnatal fitness programme for mums (and their babies!) catering for all fitness levels and fitness needs. 

Sam, Lyla and Britta

Name: Sam 

Children: Lyla, 4 and Britta, 16 Months

Location: Withington, Manchester

Expectations of Motherhood: I suppose I hoped what everyone else does – that you won’t change that much. You’ll still travel, get to gigs, the cinema, eat out, wear clothes with non-elasticated waists, get through a day without discovering some piece of discarded food in your hair . . .

Reality of Motherhood: Who knew what a journey this was going to be?
I fell pregnant straight away and was textbook thrilled/excited/nervous.

Then at 13 weeks I had a miscarriage.
I’ll never forget going to hospital with horrendous stomach pains and the midwife asking me, “How far apart are your contractions?” 
And I thought, oh god – I’m in labour, but there won’t be a baby at the end of it.

Looking back, that was the first moment I realised that being a mother is never what you expect it to be. But I did know that whatever it brought I wanted it more than anything.

It took a few months to get pregnant again (in which I really struggled with depression), but then In Feb 2007 I fell pregnant with Lyla. I remember how nervous I was at the six week scan, but saw a heartbeat and a teeny baby, and in October she was born - healthy and beautiful.

I remember on about day four thinking, “What ON EARTH have we done?” 
I couldn’t imagine a time when we could ever go to the shop / a friends’ house / on holiday EVER again.

When we decided to try for baby number two, again I fell pregnant immediately. At about five weeks I suddenly got really nervous that I would miscarry again – and so the great early pregnancy unit at the MRI gave me a scan and at six weeks I saw a teeny baby and a heartbeat and was euphoric.

At about twelve weeks I was at work and had the tiniest drop of blood. I phoned the midwife who reassured me it was nothing, but as the evening went on I just got more and more scared. They gave me a scan the next day and I saw my little baby, who, according to the size charts, had died two days before.

With my next pregnancy I got through three scans before the baby died – with the two after that I miscarried before the first scans.

I feel so much empathy with anyone going through any fertility issues and know that it does affect everyone differently but the feelings of grief, failure, self-loathing and desperation that I experienced were overwhelming at times.

Were you a “mother’ to those never born babies just because you never held them and fed them or not? I don’t know.



In September 2010 I remember thinking I can’t do this anymore – it’s one last try and then . . well I didn’t know what the end of that sentence was, but that last chance hotel was our beautiful girl Britta.

And until the moment at 40+2 that I held her and heard her cry I can honestly say I never never thought she would arrive safely.

She did arrive safely, but she then had colic, and she NEVER slept and she cried alllllllllllll the time and I remember thinking “What? – you were SO wanted and we went through so much to get you and now it’s like some kind of waking hell!” 
As I said . . .things are never quite as you expect them to be. She remains a challenge(!) She’s also so full of life, energy and joy, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Taking your children home for the first time: I remember the drive home from hospital with Lyla on the M56 was hair raising – I had the senses of a cat - I could smell that speeding driver from 5 miles away. I wanted to scream at everyone, “Slow down! Use your mirrors! I have the most precious cargo in the world! – please be careful!" 15mph never felt faster.

Once home, it just felt right. Exhausting, but right. I never had that moment of, “Good grief – we’re now in charge of this person - aghghgh!” It just felt normal and that we were where we should be. I went home the day after Lyla was born, but with Britta I told them on the delivery unit that we wanted to go home right away. They had a bed ready on the ward, but as it was my birthday I wanted out of there and to get home and have cake and a glass of plonk (maybe I shouldn’t have told the midwife that!).

The best/worst advice: I don’t think Mothers have ever been more scrutinised or discussed as we are today. You can’t turn on the radio or TV or open a paper without some pundit or expert discussing the shortcomings of working mothers or stay at home mothers – how adversely we are affecting our childrens’ emotional development or smothering them to the point of malfunction.

We have an over-abundance of advice both good and bad and it’s often hard to wade through it all.

Talk to your friends, be honest with them about how you feel and how you’re coping. Don’t assume everyone is doing it well apart from you and you may be surprised to hear that everything isn’t rosy in their garden either - a problem shared and all that . . .

People who tell you, “Ah! These are the wonder years!" when your six week old hasn’t slept for, ooo about six weeks and you feel like you’ve been run over by a train – put it in the bin.

The main thing to always remember is no one EVER judges you as much as you’ll judge yourself – so if you give yourself a break, that’s more than half the battle.

Oh and as a friend once told me when I was delirious with lack of sleep and a screaming child – it really IS OK not to like your child sometimes (but they don’t tell you that in the movies..)

The hardest part of being a mother: Going through pregnancy loss was very hard for me – and I know people think they’re comforting you when they say, “Don’t worry – you can try again,” and,  “It was meant to be,” but I always found that so crass. I’m also aware that people simply don’t know what to say when you lose a child.

I remember one heavily pregnant woman saying to me, “At least you get to wear clothes with waists – look at me!”

The best ever comfort I got was a woman I didn’t know too well actually who just looked me straight in the eye and, "That’s a shitty thing that happened to you. I’m so sorry - you didn’t deserve that" - no attempt at explanation, no words of hope for the future. Just an understanding.

The biggest challenge now is the constant boundary pushing, which with two girls (of different ages) who are pushing two very different boundaries can seem overwhelming. I really don’t know where us parents find that extra reserve of patience when we’ve just been asked, “Why?” for the 900,000th time that day, whilst another child is trying to climb into the washing machine.



Oh and as low points go, having my lip split by a thrashing toddler two hours into a 7 hour flight was pretty much as low as I ever thought it could get. Then as I tried to mop up the blood she threw up. Allllllll over me. Those airline blankets really don’t make a good outfit, no matter how you try and accessorise.

The best parts of being a mother: The love. How to even begin to describe it? Remember when you met your partner and you thought about them all day and felt excited when your phone rang because it might be them and thrilled when you knew you were meeting later and then so screamingly delirious when they said they loved you? Like that times a million. But with a bit more puke.

Hopes for your family: Britta has a really rare condition called mastocytosis, which wasn’t diagnosed until she was 8 months old which can cause nasty cramping and wheezing as well as skin lesions. I hope we continue to manage the condition, as she can get on with life really well at the moment. I hope too that she’s part of the 60% who grow out of the skin lesions part of it, as it’s hard to see people point and stare at your child, but not as hard it will be for a teenage girl to go through that.

I hope we all manage to stay close and stay happy and stay healthy and stay sane. But mainly stay sane.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums: Strap yourself in – it’s the ride of your life. Whatever you expect this to be – it will surprise you. Parenthood brings you the most heart-bursting joy you can imagine. The love you feel is beyond anything you could dream of. But you know – there is also frustration, despair, absolute fatigue like you can’t believe and of course that food in your hair too.

Ahhh – you’re going to LOVE it! X

Chloe, Emery and Xanthe

Name: Chloe 

Children: Emery, 4 and Xanthe, 2 

Location: Stockport

Expectations of Motherhood: I have always known I wanted children, and used to be able to reel off and – I thought – empathise with, all the clichés of motherhood. But whilst I had a rough idea of the physical and practical demands, I had no appreciation of the emotional challenges which come as part of the package

Reality of Motherhood: Hmmm... impossible to define. For me, the reality of the first year of motherhood was very different to the phase I find myself in now. My first year being a mum was an intense bubble of amazingly happy experiences and huge adjustments. I’m really glad I indulged in all my favourite parts of ‘baby-dom’ because once your baby becomes a toddler you step out of the baby haze and the real world looms large once again.

Second time around we were looking forward to a smooth ride thinking that we’d already learnt most of the hard lessons. However, we found out when our daughter Xanthe was just two weeks old that she is profoundly deaf. We knew nothing about deafness, and had only fears in our mind about the future that awaited Xanthe and us all. I was busy trying to look after a newborn and help our son adjust to life as a big brother, whilst trying to come to terms with my sadness about the diagnosis. It’s fair to say that all of my initial fears (‘would Xanthe ever be able to speak?’ ‘how would she know that I love her if she never hears me say it?’) have since faded away as Xanthe’s personality has emerged and we’ve found our own way of communicating.

Xanthe had cochlear implants fitted just before she was 2, which allow her to hear almost all sounds. With lots of speech therapy and support from a fantastic team of professionals, she is learning how to listen and speak. We are aware from subsequent diagnoses that she is likely to face further challenges later in life, for now I find it easier to focus on the current challenges than dwell on ‘unknowns’. You don’t have to spend long in paediatric waiting rooms to realise there are lots of families out there whose daily lives are so much harder than most of us parents could even imagine. I feel like our eyes have been opened to another world which we were oblivious to first time around because we were so consumed with the usual new parent activities.

Taking your children home for the first time: With our first child it dawned on me before even leaving the hospital that there were just too many decisions involved in caring for a child, and I may as well give up on the hope of getting everything ‘right’. I’d just have to have faith that I was trying my best and hope that would be enough to keep him happy and healthy. The tiredness over the next few weeks made everything more intense, for good and for bad. It was a precious yet overwhelming time. 

The best/worst advice: During my pregnancy I was quite shocked at how many people felt they could comment or offer advice to me just because I was pregnant (“so big”, “too small”...)

I was shocked when I was 7 months pregnant at the train station waiting for my train and I (discreetly) applied some lipstick. A male fellow commuter (who I recognised but didn’t know), said to me “You don’t need to bother with that now, you’ve already had your man!”. As ever in these situations, I’ve since come up with about 15 worthy responses which frustratingly I was too shocked at the time to use.

The hardest parts of being a mother: There have been days dealing with the almost constant stream of requests from my kids when I have felt like I have almost ceased to exist as a person in my own right: grateful if even my most basic of needs has been met, like going to the toilet or fitting in time for a drink of water. In the evenings when they are asleep, I pad around the house with no music, TV.... just enjoying the silence!

I remember feeling glued to the sofa in the early days of breastfeeding, and unable to put my baby down at all throughout the day. I had a favourite aunt coming to visit one day and I was keen for the house (and us) to look our best. Emery would not settle with anyone else, so I had to let others tidy up around me. I felt at one point like I might actually spontaneously combust with frustration as I sat there and watched others take an hour to do what would have taken me 10 minutes.

I think different mums (and children) have stages/ages that suit them more than others. I loved pretty much every aspect of the first year, and didn’t really mind the physical demands. I have found the toddler years much harder, with the constant emotional drain – the tantrums, tears, the continual need to have an ‘approach’ to behaviour, mealtime etc. Yet, I am fully aware that I will most likely look back in 20 years time and realise that these have been the happiest times of my life, because I have been most needed and in a position to give so much to my children.

During the ‘terrible 2’s’ I remember there being times when I could almost feel my patience growing. If you’ve got to stand while your toddler counts every brick on a wall, you may as well take the opportunity to relax and enjoy it, rather than wrestle inside with the memory of how you used to be able to get from ‘a’ to ‘b’ or whizz through your ‘to do’ lists at your own pace.

Having a child who has additional needs can place an unforeseen burden on you as parents in many ways. You have to act as the conduit of information for your whole friends/family network. Everyone looks to you to let them know what the latest information is, what they can do to help, how they should communicate with your child etc. It’s fantastic they want to be involved, but it means you need to always be one step ahead. Xanthe had her first hearing aids at 6 weeks old, so I had to quickly get used to responding to strangers stares and questions. You also have to be organised and well-informed to question or challenge professionals while acting as advocate for your child at the many appointments. The NHS support has been fantastic, but I still have box files full of paperwork relating to the different teams we access, and we spend a lot of our spare time researching medical information and accessing support networks.

Finally, I do find it hard not having family close by. It is a choice we have made to live here, but I try not to think about how much easier it would be if we had family who could easily help out at short notice or where we could just call by for a cup of tea.

The best parts of being a mother: I just love watching my children growing into the intriguing characters they are. As their personality and interests emerge it is fascinating to see them interacting with people in their own right, and adding their own perspective to the world they see around them. It is a privilege to witness. As is watching them dance - we often whack up the music and have a boogie together – nothing better.

I’d like to also give a rare mention for one of the positive side effects of being so tired – you simply don’t have the time or energy to deal with stuff that you probably should’ve shaken off years ago, so I think I’m (becoming) more ruthless now and better able to prioritise who and what I spend my time on.

Hopes for your (growing) family: Well, since the birth of our daughter, Xanthe, I have revised my hopes for our family. Prior to finding out she is deaf I felt in control of most aspects of our growing family; we’d had the two children we’d hoped for without having to wait too long and were happy with our working and home lives. The diagnosis made me realise that what I’d thought of as all being part of a clever plan, had actually just been luck. It has been important for me to find my peace with the diagnosis so that I can accept it and get on with enjoying life as a family. I know that as full and happy life is as possible for Xanthe as any other child. It’s just that she has had a different starting place and will face different challenges along the way.

So, my hopes for my beautiful children are for them to feel happy in themselves and confident in accessing all that life has to offer. I would hope that they will grow up to be well-rounded citizens, who never stop listening and learning, and are appreciative of all that we have.

What advice would you offer to new and expectant mums:

In no particular order....

Get a decent camera – if you have any plans to upgrade your camera then don’t wait, you may as well do it at the start to capture all the precious ‘firsts’ from the beginning.

It is as well to anticipate a period of adjustment for you and your partner as you get used to life as parents – it is a big change, and there is likely to be some colourful language on the way.

Plan your ‘mum’ wardrobe while you have time before the baby arrives. Your figure will go through several stages before reaching it’s new norm and you’ll probably feel unsure of what flatters it. Bright scarves will help perk you up when you’re feeling tired and, along with some flattering shirts or cardigans to cover you, will make you feel more confident in your early attempts to breast-feed in public.

I have had to learn to be more aware of and assertive about my needs. Unless you are specific about what you need, your partner/friends/family can’t help you. Your children need you to be at your strongest, so if that means you asking for a Saturday once a month when you can go off and think about just yourself for a day, then do it. Similarly, it isn’t a crime to sort yourself out before you tend to your crying baby. You’ll probably feel a lot less stressed if you get your coat off and flick the kettle on or grab a quick bite to eat before you get your baby out of the pram for a feed after a walk.

Finally, don’t be tempted to stop at Tesco’s on your way to the hospital when in labour to pick up final snacks – the labour might just be quicker than you expect!

Barbara (and Kate, Aidan, Chris, Margaret, James, and Jane)

Name: Barbara

Children: Katie, Aidan, Chris, Margaret, James and Jane 

Location: Preston

Expectations of Motherhood: I couldn't wait to be a mother but Katie was born a week short of 4 years after we married. I had 2 brothers, one of whom was 3 years younger than me and I had great memories of his first year. I loved the smell (it must have been Johnson's baby powder) and maybe I loved the fact that he was a small person I could boss around. We were always very close, closer than my older brother who was only two years older than me. 

Reality of Motherhood: In my early teens I saw the original film of 'Cheaper by the Dozen' (a true story and much better than the modern re-make - the father being one of the first 'time and motion study' people in the States) and decided 12 would be a good number! Of course I thought it would be all fun, and hadn't realised the writer was rather well-off and in a rather different league to us, nor just how much children could be hard work! 

In addition I had serious back problems. I had a slipped disk and an operation before Katie was born and then more trouble - two more disks slipping - when Chris was 5 months old. This resulted in 7 weeks on my back and parents-in-law coming alternately each week to look after me and the children. I was discharged after traction and heat treatment but was still in pain and thinking it would be forever. 

It took ten years before I was quite free of the pain, and that wasn't the last time I had problems, but not on the same scale again fortunately. I realised along the line that it wouldn't be practical to have 12 children, but was still delighted after it all that I had six. I can't even regret the one I might have had (miscarriage at 3 months, probably a boy) because the other three wouldn't have been the same people if it hadn't happened.

Taking your children home the first time: I was really looking forward to this. In those days we were kept in hospital for a week. My only problem was that I not only found it easy to feed my baby myself, but I was perhaps keeping half a dozen premature babies alive too! This created some embarrassing episodes back home when there was only one hungry person to feed. 

There I was on my own for the afternoon, baby asleep like a little lamb, and wondering what to do with myself. It didn't last. I was determined to do everything right so after tea it was bath-time and then feed. My sister-in-law had come over for the evening so helped me with bath-time which was pretty awful. I had no idea how slippery a tiny baby can be when well soaped and was very quickly in quite a panic. Then the feed - and a lovely four hour sleep again? My baby had turned out to be the clockwork kind. Wriggly but so well-behaved. Oops! Not this time. She definitely did not want to go to sleep. I spent a good part of that first evening in tears. All three of us tried walking her round the room, my husband, me, Auntie, but nothing would pacify her, alternately grizzling, howling or just, probably, enjoying all the attention. In no time at all I was in tears and soon realised how useful it was having another - detached - person around even though she had no experience of looking after babies at all. 

That was in fact the start of a classic case of three months colic, ideal behaviour all day and night, feeding every four hours without fail - except for that slot from 6 pm till 10 pm until she was awake for longer - and longer - and longer.... and my realisation too of who was quite definitely the boss! 

From the start she could wind her Dad round her little finger - and he'd shown no interest in her when visiting in the hospital. (He just didn't like hospitals, but I'd been scared that he wasn't 'bonding') I'd have been lost without him over the following weeks...years!

The best/worst advice: Fortunately I didn't have too much advice at all and did find some books like the one which diagnosed the three-month problem (which I didn't have with any of the others) and stopped me worrying too much. The worst advice was that I should put the baby in the pram and park her at the end of the garden where I couldn't hear her cry. There was no way I could think that was a good idea and I'd never tell anyone else to do that. I don't think very small babies are 'naughty' - they cry for a reason even if it's hard to find out what it is. 

The hardest part of being a mother: It becomes your identity for a while. You live through your children for a bit, terrified in case anything bad should happen to them, though you get this into better perspective with more children. Keeping a consistent attitude with discipline is the other difficulty, give in one day and have to put up with the consequences the next!

The best part of being a mother: The sense of pride, the sheer joy of having your baby smile and put out his/her arms to you. I still love walking along with a granddaughter, her small hand in mine in complete trust.

Hopes for your family: Not so many families grow as much as mine - 8 of us for a start (2 parents and 6 children), then 18 grandchildren ranging from ages 27 years down to 2 years - and now two great grandchildren mixing up the generations.  

I find this a difficult question as now it's some of my children who face the problem of their children 'leaving the nest' or being once again a household of just 2. 

My worries about any of them facing starting school, leaving school and so on are so long ago they are difficult to remember. We had our worries but thank goodness I  can now just enjoy their company as adults and equals and am immensely proud of them all.

Advice to new and expectant mothers: Basically you know best about your own baby - their likes, dislikes, odd quirks of behaviour etc. You also need tons of patience so get practising straight away!

Remember your baby is a person from the start, and talk to him/her right from the start. It doesn't matter if they don't understand a word, they soon will. Don't worry if people think you are odd talking to a tiny baby while out shopping. I've had some funny looks from time to time but it really works! 

If you can, join a mother and baby or toddler group coming together just to play - it's as important for your child to meet other children as it is for you to meet other mums and 'grandmums'. There was next to nothing when my children were growing up but taking grandchildren to a 'play group' made me realise just how much they gain in self-confidence and all sorts of skills in a well-run group with plenty of equipment. 

I've recently rejoined a group I took my youngest daughter to when she was 11 months old, now taking her daughter. Watching other people's babies week by week is still fascinating - you don't see your own child's progress in the same way as it seems to happen so slowly. On my own the weeks sometimes dragged by with no apparent change and I often felt very tied down with no time to myself. I didn't meet other mums till I reached the school gates with mine! There are far more opportunities now - if you don't know any other young mums near you, start by looking in the local library for notices and many have storytime or other sessions for toddlers. 

Finally, if you think small babies and toddlers are difficult - just wait till they hit the teenage years.....and know everything.