



10 things I thought before I had kids:
1. I shall never shout at my child: Oh you will you know. Actually, it’s more a case of shouting at yourself really, because if you are having to shout at all, chances are that you’ve reached that wonderful stage where the little minions have decided to ignore every single fricken word you say, until you are screaming it at the top of your lungs like a mad woman. And do you know what else? Even THEN, they’ll probably not listen to you.
2. I shall love my child unconditionally always. Yes, indeed. But that doesn’t mean that you have to LIKE them unconditionally or always.
3. I will never have to deal with a tantrum in a shop: Oh yes you will. The 30 seconds of your Minion’s meltdown will feel like an HOUR and even though no one is…
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“Are you hoping to do it properly this time?”
I kid you not. This is what I was asked recently by another Soon-to-be Mum with whom I was having the “When are you due?”conversation.
She’d asked if this was my first. I’d answered that it was number two.
“Me too” she smiled. Then she asked if I’d had a tough time last time. I replied that I’d had to have a planned section. Her next line floored me.
“Aw, so are you planning to do it properly this time?”
Now in her defense, she was an absolute stranger, who probably didn’t intend any harm whatsoever. I don’t think she even realised that she’d said it…but she had.
I smiled politely and said Goodbye. As I walked away, my smile remained on my face, somewhat forced… I wasn’t quite sure whether I wanted to laugh or to cry.
Smug I-push-mine-out-Mum carried on, oblivious to the fact that she could have just offended or upset the other very pregnant lady. I carried on about my day, and it was only when I was telling my friend about the conversation that evening that I realised that her comment was lingering in my mind.
The word “properly” has been bothering me since.
Because not only did it dismiss my first childbirth, it suggested that I did something wrong; that my first birth was improper.
Did she automatically assume that I was “too posh to push”? Did she think that I asked to have my stomach sliced open and my baby lifted out by surgeons? Did she really class a c-section as a sub standard, improper way of delivering a child? If she’s told that she needs to have one this time, is she going to say No because it’s not the proper way to do it?
What is the proper way? I listen to conversations all the time about childbirth and babies. There seem to be so many proper ways to do things.
Without medication. With just gas and air. With classical music on in the background. Without bright lights and alarm. Mammas who breathe through the pain are fantastic. Those who refuse drugs are wonderful. Those who have 60 hour labours are phenomenal. But those who take as much pain relief as we can have are equally as brilliant.
I don’t know of any new Mother who had Andy Peters standing waiting at the bottom of the bed to pin a Blue Peter Badge onto their properly born child afterwards.
I applaud and congratulate these warrior women, in the exact same way as I applaud and congratulate the woman who, for whatever reason, may it be medical, personal or indeed emergency, has to undergo the trauma of childbirth on an operating table.
A caesarean section is not what any woman anticipates when thinking of how their baby will be born. It’s terrifying. It’s painful. Your body goes through all of the same physical and indeed hormonal reactions to having just given birth as the body of a woman who has been lucky enough to give birth naturally.
There are stitches. There is afterbirth. There is pain…by God is there pain.
There is recovery time. There are hormones.
But most importantly, with the help of some higher power and whatever wonderful staff that are on hand in the hospital, there is a baby.
And that is what childbirth, in any form, is about.
It’s about getting your precious little darling out of your big swollen tummy as quickly and safely as possible. It’s about causing as little trauma as possible to your newborn, regardless of what your own body must go through. It’s about love.
And there is absolutely nothing proper about any of it.
Every woman dreams of a quick, pain free labour and uneventful delivery. How many do you know that have achieved that? I’d love to meet them.
Of course I’d love to have experienced childbirth like most women do. But do I feel like I have missed out on anything?
Erm, no.
Do I feel that my darling daughter is any less born than her friends or cousins? Nope.
If my next child is born by VBAC, will that be more proper than Mini-me’s birth? Eh…no!?
But If I do manage proper childbirth this time, does that mean I’m finally a real mum and that I can finally be admitted into the proper mum club? Well I think you know where I’m going with this!
I’m already a real mum. I’ve already had a proper baby. I’ve already been through the horrors of childbirth, perhaps just a little differently to others.
In the same way as some women judge others for not breast feeding, or for taking whatever drugs are safely available to them from the doctors, or for giving their baby a dodo/soother/pacifier, that lady judged me for having to have a c-section to bring my baby to me safely.
And of course she didn’t intend to offend, but when we so flippantly share our own opinions on bump and baby matters, (and we do!), we sometimes dismiss experiences that we have never had ourselves.
And we should consider that before we speak.
My experiences of pregnancy, birth and of being a Mummy are very different to every other Mummy’s experiences. My experience isn’t exclusive. There is no such thing as properly when it comes to being a Mum..
So if this time round, my consultant advises me that I should have another section, I’ll listen to her, because guess what? That’s her job. She knows best and I trust her. And because it’s my job too…the only job a mother has when they go into hospital, is to get their little bundle out of their belly!I
And I will happily hang upside down from the rafters, singing Jingle Bells, buck naked and high on horse tranquilizers if that ‘s what it takes to get my little one here properly.
I am Section Mum
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Do your little minions keep you on your toes?
Mine do. So much so that I might as well dance around in ballet pumps, never mind walking.
While they try to keep me on my toes, half the time I’m actually walking around bare-footed…on lego. I think I’ve sussed them. I think I know them and their tricks. And then they remind me that actually, I have not a clue what I am doing and that I am most certainly NOT in charge in our little home.
Here are the top 5 ways that Mini-Me and Princess are keeping me “dancing” at the minute. But sure hey, who wants boring well-behaved kids eh?
2. Hiding is the best fun ever! Especially when they hide behind their fat wee hands, right in front of you and genuinely believe that you can’t see them. However, as they get bigger, hiding becomes a skill. And it becomes quite the pain in the posterier…especially if they decide to play “hiding” just as you are trying to leave the house. Princess is unbelievable at it. She runs down the hall shouting “I Hideeeeeeen”. Her favourites are in the bottom of a wardrobe, happily still in the dark, or standing like a statue behind a curtain. Nightmare. The only way I can find her in a hurry is to make her giggle. (Mammy on the other hand can not hide. ANYWHERE. Don’t waste your time trying. They will find you.)
3. Clean nappies are best for pooing in. Especially when you’re just about to leave the house. Again, if a clean nappy is combined with silence and hiding, you’re getting a hat-trick Mammy.
4. If Mammy cooks it, they will not eat it. If Granny, Aunty, Uncle, Childminder, Binman cooks it, they shall eat it. Also, if, like me you have a child who doesn’t eat a particular food (still no go on the chucken), be warned that they WILL eat it EVERYWHERE ELSE. Just to keep you look deranged and mad when you tell people they don’t like a certain food.
5. Crying is reserved for Mammy. A child can bump her knee at 10am and be brave. When you arrive at 5pm, they will cry about it. A child can be as good as gold all day. Once you enter another house or indeed, once someone else walks into your house, they will begin to act like demonic dictators just to remind you that they are indeed the Boss of the whole wide world. And to maintain your outside-the-house-persona as the Mammy-who-is-always-scolding.

Otherwise, all is perfect and all is right with the world. I hope you all got lots of eggs and that the little faces are covered in chocolate. Bring on the sugar rush and crashes this evening eh? And don’t forget to put some egg in the fridge to have when they go to bed tonight! Goes well with grapes they tell me. 🙂
What is your little one’s trick of the month?
Speaking of choice…
“Mumpty Mumpty sat on the wall,
Mumpty Mumpty had a great fall…
All the Queen’s buddies and all the Queen’s men,
Couldn’t put Mumpty together again.”
Yup.
Mammies face a wall.
And boy it’s a big wall.
It’s huge. It’s long. It’s terrifying to sit atop because it’s so high. It’s divided Mammies for years and a much as we campaign and try to promote awareness about the wall, it only seems to be getting higher. The Mammies on each side of this wall think they’re better than the Mammies on the other side. And the Mammies still sitting on top of the wall are generally terrified because not only do they not know which side to jump off, but most of them know that regardless of which side they choose, they’ll be judged.
And the worst thing about this wall which divides Mammies?
We built it ourselves.
And…
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