The Reluctant Earth Mother

A nobody's thoughts on mothering

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  • Here we go…

    Here we go…

    This started as a thought in the shower and spiraled, remembering how Baby 1 has learnt a new tantruming technique. Previously it’s been standard screaming. Run of the mill, let’s get it out with some stomping and thumping of the floor. Though he did that yesterday and hurt his fist so I had to redirect him onto the mat. But not the scream. This comes with his head thrown back, bright bright red skin and a furious shake to his bottom lip well pulled back from his teeth. The horror movies with angry werewolves no longer cut it. They need to do more research on toddlers and reevaluate. My point here is that he is doing exactly what I want to do frequently.

    As I’ve fleshed it out, I realise that there’s this thread of anger running through my experience of motherhood. How angry I am at society for devaluing caring roles so much that the expectation is to just keep calm and carry on like nothing has happened. This comes with so much weight that sometimes it feels like I’m being suffocated by a duvet filled with lead dust. I’m not even sure all of the expectations I’ve internalised are even true, they could just as easily be rules only in my head. Yet I’m finding that many others feel the same.

    I have an understanding boss and understanding colleagues yet I’m still there trying to blast through work as if I’m full time. In fact, two of them thought I was! I’ve been part time longer than I was full. I’m convinced that my partner does not care what state the house is in, and my kids certainly don’t, and yet I need to be cleaning the floors every other day just to feel like I’m doing the “right” thing. They’re filthy again less than 5 minutes later.  

    I’m getting ready for the comments that I’m still breastfeeding Baby 2 who is well over a year old. I was ready for them months ago. It’s never happened but I’m still angry that it might. That’s my own prejudice but it’s not born from nowhere. As yet, I haven’t found anyone who has and the worst I’ve had was one family member walking out the room as soon as there was any sign that I might whip a boob out. It made me feel like shit but at least there weren’t any derogatory comments. I think I live in a fairly average community where if it was going to happen, it probably would have. The worst was a group of teenagers, one of the lads commented as I was feeding Baby 2 outside the park before I took Baby 1 in and unbelievably, or perhaps believably I don’t know, the rest of the group told him to grow up. 

    I think the real anger shouldn’t be directed at society but at our government. I need to do a poll but I would be surprised if, given the right circumstances, most parents would prefer to not put their babies in nursery at 9 months old and instead that funding went to the families to bring up their children in the way they feel is right. Yet they’re busy touting that a 9 month old needs education. The only education they need is to put everything they can find in their mouths. That is not something that needs facilitating by someone on minimum wage keeping an eye on 3 other gremlins determined to choke themselves. For heaven’s sake, they only start to get fun once they hit a year and we’re demanded to go back to work or at least work our notice periods to pay back the pittance they deigned to give us to have the future of our society. God forbid we had to start mat leave early because work and pregnancy doesn’t really mix physically or mentally depending on the situation you’re in. 

    I should clarify that I am quite and angry person anyway but here’s my list of things that I’m angry about/at:

    • That bullet points are really hard to get in the right place
    • My children for not doing exactly what I want them to when I want them to
    • My partner for not doing enough or anticipating anything when I don’t bother to communicate
    • Their grandparents for selfishly having their own lives and not revolving around us
    • That I get annoyed nearly every day
    • That I shout at my kids fairly regularly like I’ve never shouted at anyone before
    • That mothers (fine, parents) are so undervalued and invisible that it’s not a surprise to find a baby change with no toilet in it
    • That mens toilets rarely have a baby change so even the most involved dad is hampered by our misogynistic infrastructure
    • That I regularly feel like I’m doing this all on my own
    • That society values paid work over the unpaid work that keeps the paid workers afloat and “economically active”
    • That, as a woman, I’m expected to do everything for everyone
    • That there’s an expectation that I’m performing exactly as I did before I had 2 tiny lives completely and utterly dependant on me
    • That I regularly question my decision not to put my children into nursery and that only one person outside my family has validated that
    • That, though we made choices that meant I could have stayed at home with baby 1, 2 years later, that’s no longer possible and I have to work. Partly debt, partly because it would be really hard to manage month to month without going into more debt without relying on other people 
    • That we still need financial help from parents in our mid thirties
    • That I know we’re in a good position but it’s still not enough
    • That feminism means nothing after having kids. What happened to having choices? 
    • That we were told we could have it all and it’s a myth designed to make us feel worse
    • That all my confidence has been shaken then lost
    • Angry that baby brain seems to be accepted and not that we’ve shifted our priorities and actually there’s a hell of a lot more for our brains to hold and we cannot hold it all
    • That I have to bleed every single month for years because my partner doesn’t want any more
    • Angry that this is the longest post I’ve written and I’m going to have to cut drastically
    • Angry that this is the longest post I’ve written and I’m not surprised
    • Angry that I’m pretty sure, I’m one voice out of millions. 
  • The end of an era

    The end of an era

    I’m at the point where I’m pretty sure I’m done with breastfeeding. Baby 2 is 20 months old. It’s less a beautiful bonding experience and more of a mauling. He undresses me, he whines if I say no and then bawls if I physically stop him. There’s not a lot about the experience that is pleasant. 

    Having sat on this decision for a few months with the excuse that I’ll get him through the winter, I actually ran into someone who is a specialist in infant feeding so thought I’d take advantage. They’re few and far between and I’ve never weaned a child before. She suggested things like explaining what was happening: Baby 2 tantrums; distracting him with something else: Baby 2 tantrums; providing other milk: Baby 2 tantrums. You’re seeing the pattern here? One suggestion that I did like was to have a bag of his favourite things to whip out instead of a boob which is something I used to do to get through a fitness class without being harassed by my children. Sounds good in principle but I couldn’t be bothered to put the effort in only to be rewarded by yet another tantrum. The main point I took away is that I’m just going to have to suck it up and do it. 

    We dropped the day feeds. He wasn’t happy but got used to it. He still asks towards the end of the day when he’s tired and grumpy but when I say no, he usually just accepts it and moves on to something else: a cuddle, cows milk, play. Like with everything else, after a few days of predictable hell, he got used to it. So now we’ve graduated to no feed at bed time though this is significantly easier when my partner does bedtime, I highly recommend that. So next is through the night and then tackling the dreaded hormone shift. 

    Baby 1 told me categorically that he did not want to feed from me any more by biting me for a weekend. Probably compounded by the fact that we had only just got to breastfeeding properly a handful of weeks before, I was heartbroken. It was only later that I learnt that this grief is actually hormonal. The last vestiges of your hormones returning to whatever their new baseline is. But then there was also this panic about how do you comfort your child without that? I vividly remember having this crying baby on my lap, losing his mind and I had no idea how I was supposed to make things better. 

    Weaning can be emotional anyway but it is exacerbated by this last drop in hormone levels. Prolactin and oxytocin are no longer needed to make milk so they drop like a stone and all those calming, lovey dovey feelings are no longer buffering the topsy turvy world that is motherhood. On top of that, it’s also harder to get to sleep after baby wakes up in the middle of the night like both of mine regularly do. Sadly, these hormones also help with that (La Leche League, 2020).  

    So this time I’m preparing myself for the misery and trying to be aware of what it is and that it too shall pass. But also, still putting off dropping those nighttime feeds knowing we’re going to be knackered and grumpy for weeks. 

    La Leche League GB. (2020). After weaning – what next?. [Online]. laleche.org.uk. Last Updated: October. Available at: https://laleche.org.uk/after-weaning-what-next/ [Accessed 25 April 2026].

  • The devil in the room

    The devil in the room

    So the UK government has released some advice for parents around screen time for children under 5. Ironically, I came across this on Instagram as I was doom scrolling before bed. Yes, I know, “read a book!”, “screens bad” but effort, so much effort! Also, I’m probably addicted. 

    Having read the actual policy, I do feel a little better than when I drafted this because it’s not quite as cut and dry as the blogs and the social media posts would have us believe (there’s probably a lesson in there somewhere). However, I am perfectly capable of feeling guilt and shame about my parenting without government intervention but now I can legitimately despair that I took advantage of Baby 1’s addiction to Miss Rachel to keep him on the potty at a year old because it’s official. I’ve ruined his chances of becoming the next Albert Einstein or George Orwell just so I could be smug that we’d caught a poo.

    So reliant am I on screen time that I would never get Baby 2 to sleep if Baby 1 wasn’t obsessed with Postman Pat. He can entertain himself but it’s guaranteed that he will not when Baby 2 is losing his mind because he’s knackered but also wants to join in. Regrettably, I don’t have an abundance of grandparents, aunts, uncles, friends who want to distract my toddler for 15 minutes every day. My kids don’t go to nursery 8am-6pm, 5 days a week. Oddly enough, my kids also don’t have a nanny or an au pair. My village is really quite small and the television is a really good hypnotist. Maybe these guidelines weren’t meant for me.

    What about brand new first time mums? Those first few weeks are dull, potentially soul destroying and incredibly vulnerable. Why can’t a mum watch TV to get through the day? Yet, use of the television in the background is, whilst not prohibited, discouraged. We’re simultaneously encouraging breastfeeding, where you might as well be trapped with a hoover attachment on your breast, and discouraging screen time for a child who can’t see in colour or any further than your face. I would have gone round the twist! The radio is not that exciting most of the time; neither is the TV but that’s the point isn’t it? Adults need stimulation too. I didn’t have the mental capacity to follow a book and I’d guess I wasn’t the only one. We weren’t all born with the natural ability to find our children fascinating every second of the day, add in severe sleep deprivation and you’ve got a zombie who wants to zonk out in front of the TV.  

    I understand the intention behind these guidelines but, honestly, it feels so far removed from the realities of day to day life with small children, you’d think no parents had been involved at all. Or certainly not the average parent from the average nuclear family.

    The government is framing these guidelines as supportive and showing parents that they are no longer facing the digital battle alone but how about some practicalities instead? How about reducing the working week? Parents who aren’t so knackered by work might just have the energy to engage with their children and even the time to do it. How about making flexible childcare available to everyone? The overwhelmed stay at home mum is able to get a couple of hours to herself so she has enough “spoons” to share some with her kids. How about making it so parents can live, not survive but live, off one income or two part-time incomes? Imagine how being free of financial stress and pressure would make you feel. How about changing our culture to embrace children into our culture instead of insisting they be hidden away or unwelcome? Freedom from that excruciating pressure to keep your children quiet and still in public to make the surrounding adults more comfortable. Also, if you want to push books, can I suggest funding libraries, investing in family hubs, supporting local councils instead of crippling them? How about the government legislating against the addictive, quick paced insanity that is pushed on Youtube and Netflix? Instead, it’s yet another marker of “good” parenting if your kids don’t watch them. Avoid toys with AI? Then legislate against companies making or selling toys with AI. That might go some way to show us that the government is actually in the trenches with us. 

    We are just trying to get through a rainy day without our children killing each other and our own brains dribbling out of our ears. We’re shamed enough. Leave us alone! I’m probably just grumpy because the clocks changed at the weekend and now I feel like a zombie who just wants to zonk out in front of the TV. Baby 1 has come through to tell me that he wishes it was Postman Pat on the TV. Maybe I should put the guidelines to good use, stop wasting time not parenting and drag my exhausted arse out of my hiding place and stop letting Pat and Jess the cat bring up my 3 year old.  

  • Have you lost your mind?

    Have you lost your mind?

    I never found my glasses in the fridge, or the milk next to the toilet but my brain did close down to the outside world. I stopped listening to the news, had no interest in making conversation and listened to the oddly comforting voice of Bill Nighy in Charles Paris almost round the clock. Annoyingly, the instinct to clean never kicked in with either pregnancy but second time round, the need to make the spare bedroom just right was foremost in mind. 

    My mum went onto MAT leave at 26ish weeks. This was partly because of her health, partly because of her job but mostly because 40 years ago, that was the norm. I started maternity leave at 40 weeks. By 36 weeks, I couldn’t see numbers. I’m a data analyst, it’s fundamental to my work. Trouble is, I also wanted a year with my, in the world, baby so 40 weeks it was. 

    Clearly, lack of sleep has a major role to play. In the third trimester, baby is taking up so much room in your abdomen that your bladder feels like it’s shrunk to the size of a pea, coupled with an overworked pelvic floor, night time exertions are all too often plus your body just isn’t a comfortable place to exist in. All this makes good sleep a luxury. Consequently, memory worsens as does general cognitive function (Wołyńczyk-Gmaj, 2022). However, there is more going on. Women’s brains are literally going through a make-over thanks to the huge exposure to oestrogen and progesterone: more than we see over our entire lives in one hit. 

    There are 2 types of matter in the brain: grey and white. Grey matter does the stuff and white matter seems to connect the bits that do the stuff. Grey matter in the brain decreases during pregnancy then seems to rebound after birth whilst white matter becomes more concentrated. My first thought on reading this was about caterpillars turning into goo in their cocoons and emerging as butterflies. It’s more than likely that this brain remodelling project is preparing the mother for parenthood, prepping the brain to meet and recognise her baby’s needs (Pritschet, 2024).

    Matter decreases but connectivity increases so while maternal brains technically shrink, they become much more efficient at what they’re doing. This pruning process also happens during puberty and like puberty, these changes persist for years. This does happen to dads too; the more involved in caregiving, the quicker the changes occur. It’s frustrating that this invaluable process is dismissed as “mum brain” and not as the eye-opening/watering process of matrescence (Rakusen, 2024). 

    I think we have this absurd notion in our heads that becoming a parent shouldn’t change anything. The fact that nearly all of us think it suggests that it’s societal and not us embodying this impossibility as individuals. Having children is what we are meant to do. It’s literally the nature of nature. Of course our focus shifts! We are supposed to reproduce and then nurture the results of that until they reach adulthood and can repeat the cycle. Because we’re human, there are exceptions to the rule; we don’t just run on instinct alone, in fact we try extremely hard to fight instinct every day. Don’t most people yearn to be out in the sun doing very little other than maintaining a full belly? Early parenthood really brings it home that we are just animals after all. 

    Pritschet L, Taylor CM, Cossio D, Faskowitz J, Santander T, Handwerker DA, Grotzinger H, Layher E, Chrastil ER, Jacobs EG. Neuroanatomical changes observed over the course of a human pregnancy. Nat Neurosci. 2024 Nov;27(11):2253-2260. doi: 10.1038/s41593-024-01741-0. Epub 2024 Sep 16. PMID: 39284962; PMCID: PMC11537970.

    Rakusen, I. (2025). “Mother Brain”. Child. 25th July. [Podcast]. Available at https://ww. [Accessed 12th March 2026].

    Wołyńczyk-Gmaj D, Majewska A, Bramorska A, Różańska-Walędziak A, Ziemka S, Brzezicka A, Gmaj B, Czajkowski K, Wojnar M. Cognitive Function Decline in the Third Trimester of Pregnancy Is Associated with Sleep Fragmentation. J Clin Med. 2022 Sep 23;11(19):5607. doi: 10.3390/jcm11195607. PMID: 36233473; PMCID: PMC9573284.

  • 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
    • On tiptoes while for Baby 2 who is sat on the hob while helping Baby 1 make smoothie.

    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).