Perspective, people!

'Selfies are for losers, mother. I am trying to cut teeth over here. FML.' - the Kraken

So... Jamie-gate. Breast vs bottle. Cue judgy comments, bitching and spats across the whole interweb.

I am a touch opinionated *ahem* and for a while, really wanted to give my two-penneth worth. And then I decided not to because everyone had missed the point - including me. Sailed waaaaay past it whilst we argued and verbally bitch-slapped each other - and poor Jamie. He meant well but trying to lecture a bunch of sleep-deprived, hormonal women was never going to end well.

The point is, in my view, about doing your own personal best for your baby - however and whatever that is. It's going to play out differently for different people, as we all have different strengths, weaknesses, priorities and choices - just like pregnancy and labour - there are a million variations on the same scale, but ultimately nothing is right or wrong, just different.

At the heart of it is love for our children, and that's all that matters. End of. But it made me realise how easy it is to bitch and moan about each other and the parenting process, although GOOD GRIEF there are enough reasons why you would - so I wanted to list out some massive positives, because there are plenty. And because I like lists.

1. Worrying. I used to frequently attempt to give myself stomach ulcers worrying about anything from work issues to running out of coffee, and dear god what a waste of life that was. I still worry of course, but it's mainly about the Kraken - although the thought of running out of coffee is now genuinely terrifying. There's only so many times you can be covered in baby sick and frequently, accidentally flash the Amazon delivery man whilst breastfeeding and opening the door and still worry about small things. I genuinely worry less about life in general, and it's bloody great.

2. Relaxing. See above. I could not, for the life of me, relax before I had the Kraken. I thought it just wasn't in my nature, I had to be productive or DO something every waking second - exhausting. So now when I have a spare ten minutes to myself I find I can actually relax the shit out of it because I need to. (And before you point out the bleeding obvious, I find writing relaxing. So there.)

3. Body competitiveness. Women compare themselves to each other - it's just something we do, subconsciously or not. Before getting pregnant I worked out and ate well, and had a really decent figure. Then the Kraken starting baking and things changed, but I rolled with it because I was pregnant, and it's the one time you're legit allowed to be big and round. It's frigging expected.

But afterwards... that's tough. Unhelpfully, celebs with nannies and personal trainers 'pop back' into shape seemingly overnight, and leave the rest of us feeling really crap. I'm here to tell you that it is bullshit, and it often requires hard work and help to lose pregnancy weight, but more importantly, your body is different now, so there's no going back to before. Again, everyone's different but in my case I have: an extra 10kg still hanging around, stretch marks on my abdomen and thighs, wider hips, different-shaped boobs, a wider belly button, a dark linea negra (although fading) and many errr... internal changes that I won't darken your door with.

But you know what - it's not the be all and end all. I won't ever look like I did before, and I certainly can't compete with a 20 year-old or some pouty celeb type, but I don't have to. And ironically it's lifted the heaviest weight off me. Yes, I want to be healthy and lose some weight to fit into some of my wardrobe again and wear my wedding/engagement rings eventually, but I genuinely don't give rats ass about comparing myself to anything or anyone.

4. Laughing. The adage of 'if you don't laugh, you'll cry' is never more relevant than with a baby, but the fact that the Kraken makes me crack up (in a good way) at least once a day is the kind of comedy-gold happiness that I didn't have before. Admittedly I've also never hissed 'FML' through gritted teeth quite so much as I have in the last five months, but see below.

5. Patience. This is a skill - or attribute that I was not blessed with, at all. So every single scrap I now possess is down to the Kraken. It's been hard won, and at times I thought I might implode with the lack of it, but now I can deal with three simultaneous (literal) shit storms, a teething-related screaming match and a bottle lobbing incident whilst smiling. I know this because that, reader, is a summary of my afternoon. And the Kraken and I are both still alive.

So there we go - if I can be positive, anyone can. Let's get some perspective and keep it!

Home Truths #2: Ugly babies and gastro bugs

A four-week old Kraken as a wizened elf with a penchant for death metal.
Otherwise known as the photo that will force him to disown me.

There are two types of people in this world: the ones that will admit to having seen or met ugly babies and the ones that insist no baby is ugly, and that they're all beautiful in their own way.

I think we all know which camp I belong to.

1. Some babies are just ugly. Let's just be honest, it's true. I'm not trying to be cruel here, it's just a fact of life. I'm speaking from experience - I was a truly ugly baby. But here's the positive - mums never think this of their own kid, and so even though my mum would defend those pictures of me looking like a googley-eyed piece of chewed toffee to the death, everyone else knows the truth. The polite ones would mumble something about me having a nice, err... nose and then change the subject, but people lacking the ability to sugar coat would call it.

The point is: it doesn't matter. At all. Most newborns look like wizened old men to a degree (see above), but they'll soon grow out of it. Well, most of them. And in any case, if you're their mum, you won't see it anyway.

2. Labour really, REALLY hurts. Here's another truth from beyond the silent veil of parenthood, one that is shushed and softened to the uninitiated. I remember asking various parents when I was pregnant about whether it actually really hurt, and their responses included:

'It's different for everyone.'
'Yes - but you forget it very quickly.'
'Not really, it's kind of like intense period pain, but it doesn't last that long.'

I have three words to say to those parents. BIG FAT LIARS.

Now I understand that they were playing it down so I didn't freak out and waddle up to the hospital to demand an elective c-section, but I want to spell it out for anyone else out there that would really like to know the truth. If you don't, skip to number 3. In fact, skip this whole blog.

The closest description of the pain I experienced - and yes, I do appreciate that we all experience pain differently, but on closer inspection with other mums, it seems that the majority are in agreement with this - is like being hit repeatedly in the abdomen with a baseball bat, very hard and without mercy. Or being stabbed, over and over. I know it sounds dramatic, but it was. It was incredible. And I haven't forgotten it. Not even a tiny little bit.

And the most messed up part of the entire thing is that we're expected to try and do it without any pain relief. I mean...?! What the actual? What other incredibly painful major medical procedure would you be expected to endure without pain relief or anaesthetic?

And to the people that say 'well, women have been giving birth like that since the dark ages,' YEAH. I can tell. It was bloody barbaric.

Maybe it was because my labour was induced, and I'd already been having contractions for 36 hours before I 'caved' in and begged for pain relief that my experience was so negative, but I'm not alone.

The point is: there are no medals for bravery in labour. It's hard, painful and scary - and pain relief is a very sensible thing to have in that situation. If you can manage without - super. Good for you. If not - take the drugs, and take them all.

3. Caring for a baby when you're ill is hell. So about a week ago I woke up feeling sick. The first, literally gut-wrenching thought was that I might be pregnant again, followed by a groggy sprint to the bathroom to relieve my stomach of its contents. Delightful. After ruling out the pregnancy fears (I can not begin to describe the relief), I continued to throw up all morning. Six times, to be exact. My husband had to leave to attend a conference, so I spent the afternoon trying not to vomit over the Kraken - although revenge for the past five months was tempting - and actually gagging whilst changing his nappy. The remainder of the day was occupied by lying on the floor as he wriggled and drooled on the play mat, not even bothering to move when he shimmied over to my face and proceeded to chew enthusiastically on my chin whilst yanking fistfuls of my hair.

I'd have taken a photo for posterity - and this blog - but had long since forgotten the whereabouts of my phone, or the will to give a shit.

The point is: if you're that ill, don't let your husband leave to go to a conference. Or do, but make him take the baby.

4. Keep good friends and family around you. Although I'm now never alone at home, this whole process can be incredibly isolating. When the Kraken was very little, I was too scared/tired/broken to leave the house, and ended up feeling extremely miserable. My lovely husband was at work again, and although my parents have been utter angels and helped no end, day to day it was just me and the Kraken. This is where mummy friends have become utterly invaluable - and this from someone that enjoys her own company and maintained a borderline prickly level of independence before. I met a wonderful bunch of ladies through NCT classes, and the afore mentioned Dancing Gal has saved my sanity no end of times by helping me to laugh through the two hours a night sleep, rather than weep.

The point is: accept help. Even if you never have before. And make friends, even with the pretty ex-professional dancer ones that look like they've never given birth. They just might be one of the best things about having a baby.

'Just' a mum?

The Kraken: plotting world domination

'I'm not just a mum, I'm me too, and I was me long before I became a mum. I love my kids more than anything in the world, but as I lie here next to my sleeping child, I'm crying because I feel like a shitty mum for missing my old self.'

I'm paraphrasing here, but this is something I read in the last week on Facebook. It struck a chord to the extent that I replied, commenting how I often felt the same, hoping to make the author of the post feel less isolated. But instead, this happened.

'I know someone who'd give anything to be 'just a mum'.'

A reply from someone else - and it made me feel really angry. What followed were some very carefully chosen words from both myself and several others in defence of the original author, but at the time I couldn't quite nail exactly why it upset me so much.

Some days later I think I know why, and because I'm a pedantic weirdo I'm going to list it out.

1. By saying you're not 'just a mum' does not mean you don't love your child(ren). And it doesn't mean you wish you weren't a mum, or that others who're full-time, stay at home mums are lesser human beings. It means that some people enjoy doing a variety of things, and although being a mum is very time-consuming, fantastic, challenging, joyful, surprising and exciting thing - it's not necessarily the only thing some women want to do/be. AND THAT IS OKAY.

2. Before I had the Kraken, I would've given anything to be a mum too. It wasn't a straight-forward path for me to have him, so I know the struggle and heartache that can accompany the journey to having a baby. But the fact that many women struggle to have a baby doesn't mean that once you do, you can't miss your old self and life. They are two separate things.

3. I miss my old self too. Badly, some days. So badly that I sometimes wonder if I'm developing post-natal depression, or whether I should see a doctor. But the feeling always passes and I 'm happy and fine again, and put it down to the highs and lows of finding my feet in this new world. It's just such an odd world, and a small one sometimes, especially when the highlight of your day is a walk to the nearest supermarket. And you don't really need anything, except just to leave the house.

I guess the crux of it is that I don't have to justify wanting to do more than just be a mum to the Kraken. He totally and utterly fills my heart and hands, but my head needs more. The truth is, I love my job too - I work in publishing, and the ridiculously hectic and mentally stimulating environment keeps every single neurone busy, every second of the working day. And I love the people I work with, I've never had so many genuine friendships with lovely, brilliant people that I now miss dearly.

But would I swap back to my old life? Never. I mean, I'd love to fit back into the wardrobe of my old life, but not if it meant not having the Kraken. Take a look at that little face. Enough said.

So no, I'm not 'just a mum', I'm dozens of other things too. And that's just dandy.