The Reluctant Earth Mother

A nobody's thoughts on mothering

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  • The wonderful flexibilty of breastfeeding

    The wonderful flexibilty of breastfeeding

    Places I’ve fed babies:

    • In bed (obviously), lovely with a newborn, awful when you wake up and your nipples feel like razor blades have been shredding them all night.
    • Cross legged on the sofa with baby 1 on my lap and the cat purring between my feet
    • Regular spot on an arbour seat at the local garden centre.
    • In the orangutan house at the zoo with the orangutan mother feeding her tiny, much more able baby at the same time.
    • At a steam show, amongst rows of vintage tractors, twice, different babies.
    • In the middle of a, mostly empty, silage pit.
    • On the toilet having given in to the strop when I said I wouldn’t feed him while I was on the toilet.
    • By the porsche garage just off the motorway having listened to 20 minutes of screaming and giving up before going on the motorway only to shock a lorry driver who needed me to move.
    • On a miniature train ride at Llanberis.
    • On a miniature train ride at Rhyl.
    • Whilst running along a platform to catch a miniature steam train for baby 1 with baby 2 clamped to me losing the tiny shred of dignity I had left.
    • On the side of a weir, clinging to a bench to lie back slightly because my toddler is too big for a discreet koala hold.
    • In our rocking chair.
    • On my grandmother’s nursing chair.
    • On a lot of floors.
    • Watching a huge tank of fish at the aquarium.
    • At the kitchen table.
    • Stood up over the highchair at the kitchen table.
    • Lent over a car seat in the narrowest gap possible praying no one is looking.
    • Hiding a baby and my boob under the sofa during a teams call.
    • Hiding just out of shot, on teams call, with baby balanced on my leg because I now work on a pretty high chest of drawers so technically have a standing desk.
    • Sat on a sand dune watching baby 1 flatten lovingly built forts.

    This list may never end…

    I really hope it does one day.

  • What is this stuff anyway???

    What is this stuff anyway???

    Baby 2 has just walked into the kitchen with his bat costume on and demanded milk by flapping his wings. Got me to thinking, how do bats breastfeed? Turns out they can feed on the wing. Baby bat clings to Mum and sucks from her armpits; the AI overview also suggests that some male bats have been observed to lactate but I’d need to put more effort than I’m willing to to verify that particular titbit. 

    Milk is thought to have originated as a fluid to prevent eggs from drying out long before mammals were a thing. Antimicrobial properties were an advantage because of the warm, moist environments that the soggy mess I’m imagining would have fostered. These immunity properties were far more important and developed much earlier than any of the nutritional properties it’s so important for now. 

    Breast milk is made of up of fat, sugar and protein at different ratios depending on how the mammal parents. It also contains immunity factors and a ton of mysterious mechanisms for signalling and communication between mother and baby allowing them to modify the milk to suit baby’s needs hour by hour. 

    Human milk is a bit odd in comparison to other milks as it contains a ton of sugar to power our oddly big brains. The amount of protein and fat is also as low as it can go though that is in keeping with us being categorised as carry mammals. Carry mammals stay with baby, or carry them around, so they feed often and the milk doesn’t need to be formulated in a way that keeps baby full for long amounts of time. Primates, unsurprisingly, are similar but so are kangaroos who have a literal baby pouch to keep them in. You’ll be pleased to learn that this lower energy milk also seems to mean that we feed our babies for longer than other mammals but does also reduce the toll of making it. 

    I know I would have given a lot to be any other type of mammal in those early days (and even now sometimes) when it felt like baby was never off me. You’ve got cache animals who hoard their babies returning something like 12 hours later with their high protein and high fat milk keeping their kids full and content with no reason to cry out and alert predators to their whereabouts. Nest animals, like cats, tend to be born fairly immature and in litters. Mum has to return fairly frequently but can still be away for a few hours due to the highish levels of protein and fat in her milk. Follow animals have even less protein and fat in their milk but the lambs, calves, kids, are mature enough to keep up with mum and help themselves. These ones feel like a good plan to me but it was hard enough to birth a 3.5kg human, nevermind a 16kg one.

    Fewtrell, M S. Shukri, N H M. Wells, J C K. (2020). ‘Optimising’ breastfeeding: what can we learn from evolutionary, comparative and anthropological aspects of lactatio. BMC Med. 18(4).

    Haight, J. (2016). Why our babies are more like kangaroos than cows – and what that means for your breastfeeding experience. [Online]. KAMLOOPS Breastfeeding services. Last Updated: 7th October 2016. Available at: https://www.kamloopsbreastfeeding.com/articles/why-our-babies-are-more-like-kangaroos-than-cows-and- [Accessed 18 November 2025].

    La Leche League Canada. (2022). Mammal Milk Composition and Mothering Styles. [Online]. La Leche League Canada. Last Updated: August 2022. Available at: https://www.lllc.ca/mammal-milk-composition-and-mothering-styles [Accessed 18 November 2025].

  • Doubting mother

    Doubting mother

    Do you ever think you’re doing it all wrong?

    In fairness, today is not a great day. We’re all coughing and grouchy. Partner needed to sleep this afternoon so I took the boys out in the pouring rain to a museum. 

    I’ve not been to a museum since having children and I’ve got to say, they don’t really cater to the pint sized human. There’s an display case of toys with drawers of more under glass at toddler height. Baby 2 was very confused when he couldn’t grab them.  Next to it is a drawer of toys, presumably to play with, but at adult hip height. There’s a chess and draughts set but with nowhere to set it yet there are empty display tables opposite. There’s a cool thing to build a timber circle with but too high up for small toddlers to reach even with the stools. In the stunning mezzanine, there’s actual novels on toddler height shelves I’m having to prise out of baby 2’s hands and a tantalising pendulum desperate to be touched.  Maybe I’m expecting too much from organisers.

    Here’s my reality. 

    I didn’t notice any other parent swiftly and serruptitiously changing pants and trousers after an accident in a quietish corner praying no one was going to come up and tell them off. I didn’t notice any other parent desperate to breastfeed their 1 year old to calm him down; actually I didn’t see any other parent breastfeeding. I didn’t notice any parents sneaking snacks to their kids.  I didn’t notice anyone else’s 1 and 2 year old walking around or playing. I didn’t notice anyone else squishing an adult and 2 toddlers into the smallest disabled toilet in the world praying that the littlest wouldn’t see the enticing red cord. I didn’t notice another mother stupid enough to take two small toddlers to the museum on her own. I clearly don’t know the rules. 

    I could have taken him to the toilets but that would have meant 2 sets of lungs screaming at the tops of their voices at being torn away from somewhere they were happy and another 15 minutes of calming the pair of them before we could go back. They don’t understand that it’ll only be a minute. 

    Wallace’s arm chair did look comfortable to feed in and the place had more seating than most museums but it was so busy and I know baby 2 only wants the quickest suck. We ducked into an empty art gallery and I kept my eyes on the baby hoping he looks bald enough to pass as under 1. Because all of sudden, that really seems to matter to me. 

    I could have gone to the cafe but that was 2 flights of stairs down. I really can’t stand lifts so it would have taken 20 minutes and several tantrums before we got there. It’s really helpful that baby 2 refuses to be carried downstairs, another thing I should probably do. Then there’s the bonus pressure of having to buy something I don’t really want and can ill afford just so the boys can throw mini cheddars on the floor and possibly have a hot chocolate in and adult mug the temperature of molten lava. 0-4 year olds make up 5.4% of the UK population, why am I having to carry around appropriate sized mugs?  

    To be fair to me, we did arrive with baby 2 in a pram and baby 1 on my back (shouldn’t you have a double pram? Why are you carrying a nearly 3 year old?!) Baby 2 had screamed since I’d put him in the pram as all he wanted to do was walk. Why is my 1 year old the only 1 year old who insists on walking? 

    This one is more an establishment thing. My usual pet peeve is baby changing facilities that don’t include a toilet. We use cloth nappies so toilets are useful but the main objection is the assumption that parents don’t need a wee! You can change your baby but who do you think you are wanting to use a toilet? The only options are to leave your child outside while you use the tiny cubicle that won’t fit a pram or 3 pairs of feet in, leave the door open and do public indecency, or use the disabled. I have often come out with my kids to an understandably confused person who has a genuine need to use the disabled facilities. 

    In the midst of this, a kind woman says “don’t worry, it’s good to bring them young” while the boys are giggling playing hide and seek with an exhibit, very much getting in everyone’s way. While I’m left thinking, how can I? This is unbelievably hard and feels like the whole place is set against me. 

    The places I go, where I feel comfortable, are set up for kids where people with other kids will watch out for yours and there’s a chance to breathe. But mostly, at these places of sanctuary, there is very little to stimulate me. These uncomfortable experiences are usually in places not meant specifically for children.

    I just don’t know if I’m going for an easier life or if I’m ruining my kids forever. Is it just me that’s so desensitised that changing my child in public just isn’t really an issue? Should it be? You go to groups with newborns and everyone uses the baby changing spaces but the older the kids get the more you see it done in the room. Always baby groups though. Where are people taking their toddlers on rainy weekends in the UK? I keep hearing that in Europe places are more child friendly, I just don’t understand how. Although, fairly small changes today would have helped me. 

  • Will the bottom drawer do?

    Will the bottom drawer do?

    I love that picture in Burglar Bill where the baby is tucked up cosily in the bottom drawer of his chest. There are so many options of where to put baby to sleep yet they really do sleep anywhere. Baby 1 rarely slept where he was supposed, preferring to be on me at all times. Baby 2 will sleep literally anywhere except on me, specifically the sling I relied on so heavily the first time around. 

    I bedshare with my youngest. Actually, that journey is coming to an end quite abruptly. My oldest is away for a couple of nights and we thought now is as good a time as any to take the plunge. It’s the end of an era. Most likely the last time I’ll have that experience with my baby. I did the same with my eldest until I got the courage to put him in his own room at 13 months old. (Baby 2 is now several months older and still comes into bed in the middle of the night, how stupefyingly naive!)

    The decision to bedshare was the single most important part of child-rearing that has kept me sane. 

    In the first week of having Baby 1, we did a cycle of feeding from breast, pump, bottle. It was a brutal effort especially in those first 3 or 4 days at home. My mum got me out of hospital as soon as she possibly could, reassuring the midwives that she would sort out our abysmal feeding efforts. What that meant was a cyclical regime every 3 hours. My calm, collected and very reasonable partner was ready to rip her head off. 

    Nearly 3 months down the line and numerous instances of me falling asleep while feeding sat upright only to jerk awake to find Baby 1 had slipped down between us, I gave up on the next-to-me and embraced bedsharing. 2 weeks later, Partner moved next door and only returning once Baby 1 moved out. Baby 2 was more successful in the next-to-me however once he learnt to move, he would just crawl into bed with me anyway. Who doesn’t want a hot waterbottle easily 10 times bigger than you?

    The Lullaby Trust found that 9 out of 10 parents co-sleep at some point with their baby; most of the time, that decision is made after baby is born, maybe when reality hits. Their survey was done in 2023, the big take away being that 40% of those parents didn’t know how to do so safely. It was incredibly reassuring that the difference between attitudes of health visitors between my children was changed, they being born either side of 2023. It was like they had embraced it by the time baby 2 was born and instead of talking about it with disapproval, gave helpful, sensible advice. 

    Basically, follow the usual sleep advice then keep pillows and quilts away from baby, avoid other children and pets also sharing, mitigate for places they can get trapped and don’t leave them unattended. Advice I followed with Baby 1 but Baby 2 completely ignored as it seemed he was freezing for his entire first year and required more quilt than me. Baby 1 figured out how to climb into bed without me noticing. 

    A study was done, though typically I can’t find it, to look at the way mothers slept with a nursing baby. Generally, the natural position is a c-shape around baby with baby at breast level with easy access. My very light sleeper of a father assures me that baby 2 wakes multiple times a night, I am blissfully unaware.

  • When mother nature comes a-calling

    When mother nature comes a-calling

    I’m on my 4th or 5th period after having Baby 2. Happy to admit that, like many of us, it isn’t my favourite time of the month and I’m not one of those people who are able to embrace the natural wonder of it. Though, I think I would enjoy moon bathing given the chance or maybe that’s just yearning for some alone time.

    I was one of those lucky ones who’s “monthly” flow settled into a 2 week cycle as a teenager. Not crippling but it was, you might say, a pain in the nether regions. After 10 years on the progesterone only pill, as oestrogen sends me loopy and my flatmates banned me from consuming that and vodka at uni, then being pregnant, it was a bit of a shock to have periods again. One of the major upsides of pregnancy was not having to deal with it. I know I am not alone with this sentiment.

    With Baby 1, I knew they came back earlier than the myths would suggest but I don’t remember what they were like. It was during the hazy shock of being a majorly sleep deprived, first time mum dealing with unacknowledged PPA. They just weren’t the top of my to do list. Baby 2 though, the timing was cruelly unfair. 

    After 3 months of exclusive breastfeeding with this dream child, they hit with a vengeance. I’d only just stopped bleeding after birth. I think I lasted about 4 days and during yet another trip to the GP with a newborn, I begged for the pill. After birth, doctors and midwives fling contraceptives at you. 

    The pill gave me three months of bliss then I forgot to go back and ask for more, justified by my ambivalence about taking hormones and so they returned. A flood of gummy blood and pain combined with the needs and demands of a 5 month old and a 2 year old is not my idea of fun. The period after that wasn’t so bad and now we’re at the point that I can more or less ignore it, as long as I change my pants regularly. 

    A book from 1995 gives all the lovely conflicting information on breastfeeding and the return of periods. It says that they usually return when baby starts weaning or sleeps through the night. Or they don’t. It says periods return when baby starts to suckle less. Or they don’t. It says periods will return depending on a woman’s biochemistry. Or they won’t. What it does say is that periods won’t return until baby is 6 months old. Sucks to be me! (La Leche League International, 1995)

    So I think the conclusion is, you get what you get and you have to lump it. 

    La Leche League International. (1995). The breastfeeding answer book. 5th ed. United States of America: La Leche League International. pp.33-35.

  • Avoiding the scales

    Avoiding the scales

    I have been very fortunate this time round to lose a lot of weight with minimal to moderate effort. I lost a bit with my first without putting any effort at all in but by the time I was pregnant with my youngest, a routine diabetes test was strongly encouraged (aka. mandatory).

    I had just slipped under the threshold with my first pregnancy. I did end up going later on but that was to do with bump measurements. It was incredibly uncomfortable having to “relax” in a waiting room, alone for 3 hours with a huge bump. By contrast, at 20 weeks, it was blissful to have 3 hours without my hair being pulled or my glasses being ripped off my face.

    Anyway, with Baby 2, I gave myself 5 months in which to give into any urges and gorge myself. My mission to return to an acceptable weight, as decided by me, began in the traditional month of failed resolutions: January. My reasons were clear: I like my waist, and god forbid more of those awful injections if I’m daft enough to have a third C-section.

    I have a long history of dieting so I knew that calorie counting was the method for me. It took a bit of playing around and accepting that dizziness and an obviously hungry baby weren’t the best ways forward before I settled on around 2000kcal a day. The weight melted off. Even without the suffering. It was incredible, in all the years of trying I’d never been so successful.

    Then, about 3 months in, it all stopped. Trying to remember that the dreaded plateau happens to everyone and is a normal part of the process was excruciating. It was another 3 months and a bolt of lightning to my slow, mushy brain that started it up again. It had taken all my motivation to maintain then I remembered that you could, and probably should, “start again”. As you lose weight, your body needs less to maintain it so the amount you eat may not actually be a calorie deficit anymore. I took 100kcal of my budget and started again. 

    A quick google suggests that you burn between 500 and 700 kcal a day to make breast milk to feed your baby. This comes from La Leche League International so I’m willing to trust those numbers. Certainly having those extra calories to eat a day made things a lot easier. But so was the need to not punish myself or try to lose weight quicker by being hungry all time because otherwise I had a hungry grumpy baby. 

    My experience has been hugely positive and I highly recommend combining weight loss with pumping out a ton of calories in a sweet milky form. You are literally obliged to eat. Trouble is, as with everything, one size does not fit all. Some women end up with their bodies clinging to excess for dear life. The science suggests that many, many, many factors dictate as to whether breastfeeding will help you lose weight (Smethers, 2023).

    Smethers, A D. Trabulsi, J C. Stallings, V A. Papas, M A. Mennella, J A. (2023). Factors Affecting BMI Changes in Mothers during the First Year Postpartum. Nutrients. 15(6).

  • Why bother breastfeeding?

    Why bother breastfeeding?

    I’ll be completely honest, I had two main reasons to breastfeed. 

    1) weight loss (because it’s that simple)

    2) money saving (is it though???) 

    I came to both of these conclusions before I’d actually had a baby with the attitude of “isn’t it obvious?”. To be fair, both have worked out, eventually. A friend told me the other day that exclusively breastfeeding uses up the same amount of calories as walking seven miles a day. That sounds quite impressive in exchange for an effortless task – take effortless here with a pinch of salt, I mean it compared to actual exercise. My calorie counting app gives me an extra 200 calories a day to eat while I am exclusively breastfeeding, equivalent to a decent slice of cake, 3 scoops of ice cream or a couple of chocolate bars. 

    I’m not going to go on about the health benefits (NHS, 2023) and the savings to the NHS (Fewtrell, 2020) and the lovely bonding that supposedly happens between you and baby (Modak, 2023) and all the rest. Or the symbiotic relationship between the environment, you, and baby (Fewtrell, 2020). Midwives use all these reasons to convince us that breast is best all through pregnancy unconsciously, demonising formula. 

    Baby 1 decided that he had had enough of breastfeeding at ten months old. The consistent biting for three days straight didn’t endear him to me so I took the hint and stopped. It was expensive and frustrating buying formula those last 2 months but surprisingly it wasn’t the money I resented so much as having to remember to buy it. Frequently, I had to go late at night after the kid had finally surrendered to sleep in that sweet spot before waking up and bawling for more. The time when I was meant to have five minutes peace. 

    In England, data is collected on breastfeeding mothers after birth at the first feed and then again at the 6-8 week check. The data from 23/24 gives the percentage of babies who have breast milk as their first feed is 71.9% in England which is pretty good. It varies around the country so in my county, the rate is a little lower at 67.9%. There is a huge exclamation point against this data to say that there are concerns with how the data is collected and therefore how accurate this number actually is. It also includes all babies who had donor milk or expressed milk. In the 6-8 week check, one of the questions is whether baby is getting breast milk. There is a huge decline between that first feed and 6-8 weeks later down to 52.7% though from my memory, that wasn’t one of the questions asked so how accurate this data is, is anyone’s guess (Fingertips). 

    Most babies are born in hospital, some good, some bad but all surrounded by midwives, doctors, health care assistants all with the common goal of supporting Mum to give birth and nurture a healthy baby in those first few hours. Part of their job is to support you to feed your baby the way the mother wants to. With that support around, breast is best. Breast can be easy. Once you’re at home, potentially shell shocked by this huge responsibility that has dropped into your life or surrounded by the chaos other children in the home bring, it becomes more difficult. 

    Department of Health & Social Care. (2020). Child and Maternal Health Data. [Online]. Fingertips. Last Updated: 2025. Available at: https://fingertips.phe.org.uk/ [Accessed 20 August 2025].

    Fewtrell, M S. Shukri, N H M. Wells, J C K. (2020). ‘Optimising’ breastfeeding: what can we learn from evolutionary, comparative and anthropological aspects of lactatio. BMC Med. 18(4).

    Modak, A. Ronghe, V. Gomase, K P. (2023). The Psychological Benefits of Breastfeeding: Fostering Maternal Well-Being and Child Development. Cureus. 15(10).

    NHS. (2023). Benefits of breastfeeding. [Online]. http://www.nhs.uk. Last Updated: 2023. Available at: https://www.nhs.uk/baby/breastfeeding-and-bottle-feeding/breastfeeding/benefits/ [Accessed 20 August 2025].

  • It’s Inevitable

    It’s Inevitable

    Growing up in a house full of pens emblazoned with “Breast Is Best” did give me the impression that breastfeeding was inevitable, even in that naive time of “no chance will I be having children”. My mum, a community midwife, used to come home with huge handfuls of these pens. Different designs every year but usually navy blue with white writing reflecting her uniform. Honestly, I have no idea where they came from and I’m sure if I dug around in their house long enough, some would still be lurking 20 years later. 

    I remember visiting the birth centre where she was based and being accosted by knitted boobs. Even when I was pregnant with my eldest, I opened the door to my midwife sporting a tote bag covered in tea towel drawings of boobs. Such a contrast to the ubiquitous sexualisation of breasts in our culture. My partner gets annoyed with me because I really struggle to use the word breasts even though that is the anatomically correct way of referring to boobs. I’ve no idea why it makes me uncomfortable, but it does. We’re working on that with our kids though Baby 1, a boy, did tell me the other morning that his boobs are small. 

    Before I became a mum, I don’t remember seeing breastfeeding in public and even now it’s really only in church playgroups or specific breastfeeding friendly groups that I see it. When I whip my boob out for Baby 2, I often get curious looks from toddlers whilst Baby 1 just ignores me or sulks because he’s not getting my undivided attention. I remember one occasion in a park where I was feeding Baby 1 and he was being a pain; cold, tired, and hungry is not ideal. A man walking by was watching me and I remember being ready to get prickly and he just said hello and continued walking. It’s not normalised anymore but maybe it is more normal than we’re prepared for. It absolutely should be, particularly when this lazy trope of “it comes naturally” is so universally publicised. 

    Surprisingly, or perhaps not, wild bonobos have midwives and then also learn from each other how to feed their babies (Demuru,2018). The first gorillas and chimpanzees born in captivity had no idea that they had to feed their babies, never mind feed them from their own bodies. The first primates to understand were either shown by their zookeepers or had been born and raised in the wild before being taken into captivity (Gunthur, 1955). In these groups, feeding infants and mothers are all around and, given my experience with human toddlers, chimp toddlers will absolutely be watching and learning.

    Gunthur, M. (1955). Instinct and the nursing couple. Lancet. 19(268:6864), pp.575-8. 

    Demuru, E. Ferrari, P F. Palagi, E. (2018). Is birth attendance a uniquely human feature? New evidence suggests that Bonobo females protect and support the parturient. Evolution and Human Behavior. 39(5), pp.502-510.