Mr & Mrs Misfit

Today is my nineteenth wedding anniversary.  Nineteenth?!   How did that happen?  I was sure I only looked nineteen the last time I saw my reflection in the mirror!

So much has changed in those years - and on the other hand so much has stayed the same.

Our love has grown stronger with each (sometimes difficult) day and we’ve been blessed with a very special boy - now a young man, about to turn eighteen and who has done us proud.

Our wedding was a special day, filled with family and friends.  Sadly, many of those who shared our day have passed on or drifted off in one way or another.  It happens.  We need to be grown up about these things and accept them.

But, although times change, I count my blessings every day.  I found my soul-mate, my partner in crime, and every challenge we have thrown at us is met with a smile and a shrug because we know we’ll cope.

While other things may change around me, I know I have my one constant - my best friend and husband.

 The Misfits

 Mummy Misfit and Baby No Name!
(and no, that's not my bum - it's a supporting cushion!)

Dear Kate ...

Dear Kate, (or any other new mum)

Firstly, congratulations. You're a mum for the first time and regardless of the spotlight being on you, you'll  be feeling like all new mummies - knackered and bewildered.

I only ever experienced those feelings once, nearly eighteen years ago, but watching your face as you left the security of your hospital room yesterday brought it all back to me.  It's an exciting and terrifying time - hugely rewarding, draining and a constant learning curve.

So here are Mummy Misfit's tips on surviving motherhood.

* He might be a real Prince but every son is a Prince to his mum.  Remember he's YOURS.  He's your precious bundle and what you say goes.  Spend time with him, get to know him, don't let people insist they have a piece of him.  He COULD be your only child - no one can predict that they'll have the 2, 3, 4 they want.  Cherish every minute as if he's your last baby.

*  If you want to breast feed, give it a go.  If you can't, don't beat yourself up.  Some can, some can't.  It's not a competition and you can only do what works for you and your baby.

* You'll sometimes feel like you don't have a clue what you're doing and everything you do is wrong.  You'll ask for advice and some of it will make sense but you'll still want to try to have a go at doing things your way.  Sometimes it will work, sometimes you'll stuff up and wish you took the advice.  That's part of being a mum.  Don't let people give you advice you don't want - tell them politely that you're fine.  Opinions can overload your thoughts to the point that you don't remember your own.

* There will be times that you're cross-eyed with tiredness.  I had a baby who liked to feed every hour on the hour for the first year of his life.  You'll get to the point where you think you can't cope.  You will.  You have no choice.  And it does come to an end.

*  Your body will do what it wants to do, in its own time so be kind to yourself and don't expect too much too soon.  What's wrong with a 'baby belly'?  Wear it with pride - it's much more attractive than the wrinkles and grey hairs they give you as they get older!

*  You'll never sleep the way you used to, pre-baby.  From those early sleepless nights you'll move on to  colic, teething, nappy rash, coughs and colds.  As a mum you develop a third ear - what was that noise?  Are they OK?  Then they grow up, refuse to go to bed, play loud music, go out on the town and leave you awake and worried. Your sleeping days are over!

*  He'll  bring out instincts in you that you had no idea you had.  You'll become a fighting, spitting tigress if you need to.  Only a mum can know this and it will surprise you the first time it happens.

* Your husband is your best friend and ally. Don't fight one another when you're both tired because you both want the same thing - a happy baby and a good night's sleep!  Keep talking and, when you can, have a giggle.

* You'll think that every mum is doing a better job than you.  They're not - every baby is different so if your best friend's baby is sleeping through the night at six weeks, big deal.  Your baby's the best, and you know it!

*  One minute he'll be snuggled on your lap and  the next he'll be a strapping lad with thoughts of his own.  You won't believe the speed with which that happens.  For a while, it passes slowly then ... woosh, they're an adult.

There you go - my Misfit tips on motherhood.  I may have only had one baby, but the feelings are the same and if just one of my thoughts goes on to give a new mummy an ounce of comfort, I'll be happy.

Above all, enjoy your time and sleep whenever you can - that final piece of advice is one I never took.  Why would I want to sleep when I had a lovely baby boy to look at?

The Story of my Bump

After reflecting on my wedding day it led me to thinking about my pregnancy and giving birth.

I know lots of mums blog about childbirth but I feel it can only be a good thing for other mums-to-be out there.  Had the internet and social networking sites existed when I was pregnant I might not have felt so terrified!

You see, I’m a coward.  And the things I’d heard about giving birth had made me just a little worried.  It hurt, I knew that.  And I don’t like hurty things.

So, anyway.  Hubbie and I married in the August and decided to try for a baby in the December.  First try, baby in place!  Little did I know that this was to be the only ever time for us.

At the time I fell pregnant I was nannying for two girls aged four and one.  This involved lots of walking, lifting and carrying.  When I started bleeding at six weeks, I thought it was all over.  My doctor said to take it easy over the weekend and hope for the best.

That was probably one of the longest weekends of my life but during this time we made the decision that I would give up working.

Weekend over, I set off for a scan and, thank heavens, all was OK.  First lesson learnt, it’s not unusual to bleed early on in a pregnancy.

I waited for the morning sickness to kick in and nothing happened.  Hooray!  I craved oranges and Mars Bars and would eat them in abundance at all hours.  Being pregnant suited me and the only difficulties I encountered were with my nipples.  The start of my pregnancy was in the winter and I would spend many hours walking our dog.  This was when the trouble started.  The discomfort would begin with a tingle of coldness and then go into full blown agonising pain.  The only way I could leave the house was with two huge dollops of Germolene and cotton wool balls on my hooters.  A rather peculiar shape, which my gay neighbour certainly noticed on several occasions. (He also noticed when later I was walking my dog with newborn son in arms and I’d left my top undone, including nursing bra, for all the world to see my milk bottles! - Thank the Lord for honest gays!)

When I went for my final scan the midwife asked me if I wanted to know the sex. “No” I told her.  “Do you have a preference?” she asked.  “Well, I’ve always imagined I’d have a girl” I replied.  At this point she started laughing and, when I asked why, she said “I’ve just seen his testicles!”  I’m sure she acted inappropriately, and nowadays you’d be sued for less, but hey-ho!

So pregnancy passed and baby decided it was time to arrive.  A rather funny episode of ‘The Young Ones’ must have got something moving because I went into labour straight afterwards.  At least we thought I had.  Pains started in the early hours of the Saturday and baby eventually popped out at ‘Coronation Street’ time on the Monday.  In fact they were about to send me home at lunchtime because everything had stopped.  Yippee, I thought, I don’t have to go through the pain after all, and I can go home to my lovely dog.

That was when the labour kicked in properly and it was all systems go.  Had he not been bungeeing up and down my fandango with the umbilical cord around his neck, it would have been a lot quicker but eventually (after an episiotomy) he appeared.  I’d never considered needing to be cut, but by this point they could have done anything to me.  I felt no pain when they did it, although hubbie said when he turned back from preparing a Babygro, the sight that greeted him looked like a car-crash.  Glad he was at that end and I wasn’t.

Apart from a lot of pushing, heaving and murderous looks at hubbie and my sister, it was all quite uneventful.  I didn’t utter one expletive (I’m a good girl I am!) and when I looked into my baby boy’s eyes for the first time (apart from thinking that he looked a bit like an alien) I thought “Yep, I know you!”

Another thing I wish I’d known was the first dodgy nappy full a baby does.  Good grief, it was like trying to remove tar and nothing would budge it.  I remember shuffling around my cubicle in the ward, my stitches now beginning to get sore, thinking “What on earth is this?”  Suddenly a voice in the darkness from the bed next to me said, “You’ve found the first poo, haven’t you?  Don’t worry, it’s normal!”  That voice from the shadows made everything feel better.

And so the learning curve continued and I became a human dummy.  I was lucky that I could feed for Britain and never struggled once and I feel truly grateful for that and those treasured moments.

Now I look at my ‘baby’ about to get his GCSE results and approaching sixteen and I think … we did that!  We made that character and he lived inside my belly for 40 weeks.

Mother Nature, when you work properly, what a wonderful creature you are.

The character of Libby in ‘Diary of Mummy Misfit’ is desperate for a second baby.  A forty, has she left it too late?  Check it out on Amazon.  Now also available in paperback at Lulu.