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  The judgement also seeped into how I looked. Was my bump going to be ‘neat and tidy’ or more like an out-of-control oil spill in the Pacific, smothering everything in its path? Was I going to look fifty-seven weeks rather than the seventeen weeks I was? Or would bump and I look like a celeb mum rocking the chic bump without the heaven of a maternity legging in sight (I still miss them!)?

  I came to realise the sorry (and, quite frankly, disturbing) levels of judgement fired down on pregnant women when I was stopped in the street by someone I barely knew, who proceeded to compliment me on how well I looked (nice) and how tiny my bump was. (Apparently, having a small bump and hardly looking pregnant equates to looking well; seems a bit weird.) Then she started to rip pieces out of another pregnant lady she knew who had ‘a massive bump’, telling me I should be ‘grateful’ because I looked so much better than her. WTF? I stood there in shock as one woman ripped into a pregnant woman about how she looked. It was offensive. It was uncalled for. It was a judgemental attack I had not seen since the playground.

  I often think this was one of the first instances when I felt an urge to stand up for and protect other mums and mums-to-be. This was the place where my passion and fire was lit in honour of supporting every mum – no judgement. It was an empowering realisation that it is our job as women to lift up our fellow warriors on the battlefield of life rather than to be the ones slaying them and leaving them gurgling facedown in the mud.

  The judgement I encountered during both pregnancies, and the huge differences I experienced, has fuelled my belief that us mums need to be prepared for whatever pregnancy throws at us, to ensure that we are not left in a bedraggled state before the hard work really starts – once we’ve pushed out our tiny humans into the world and life gets real.

  Not in any of the pregnancy books that I read, did it ever mention that being pregnant is not always a walk in the park. That at times it can be a bit crap and at other times downright terrifying. That as life-affirming and wonderful and as easy as it can be for some, for others it can be anything but. That not everyone gets the cookie cutter pregnancy described in the media. That, like pregnancy bumps, pregnancy itself comes in all shapes and sizes and we should all be talking about ALL experiences of it (the good, the bad and the scary), to ensure we are all as prepared and as mentally strong as possible for whatever comes our way. Most importantly, we should not be judging other mums but empowering and supporting every mum through their pregnancies.

  THE BULLS*** TO IGNORE WHEN PREGNANT

  One of the things that always bemused me – and, if I’m honest, felt pressured by – was the amount of opinions laid on me while pregnant. From how I should be acting, feeling and dressing to how big my bump was, to what I should or should not be eating. The list goes on and on and on and on and on until you want to stick your own cankle in your mouth (or theirs) to make them stop!

  I wish someone had told me that I didn’t have to take it all on board or so personally. That just because advice is offered I didn’t have to take it. And that, more importantly, advice is a bit like shoes: you don’t have room in your wardrobe for every pair. Some you won’t like, and some, which you think will be perfect for you, won’t fit at all. Most importantly, sometimes you will say to hell with it all and instead walk barefoot, shoe- and advice-free.

  This is what really inspired me to put pen to paper, so that mums-to-be who found themselves in some of the situations I faced during my pregnancies would know they are not alone. That they don’t have to give a crap about what anyone else thinks; the only opinion which really matters is their own. It’s your pregnancy, your body and your baby, after all!

  With that in mind, here is my list of the bullshit to ignore when pregnant:

  1.‘Remember you are pregnant, not ill.’

  Really? Have you really just said that to my face? To my green around the gills, If I have to smell a waft of air freshener or whiff another overripe banana I am going to puke my guts up. Oh, and I should feel grateful should I that I have only twelve weeks of this to endure all whilst pretending that I am fine and bloody dandy? That my boobs don’t ache beyond recognition? That my skin is not itching all over like I am infested with a billion creepy crawlies? That I am rushing to the toilet to dry retch every half-hour? All whilst my brain is on high alert panicking over every slight twinge and my body just wants to wave the white flag and surrender into a crumpled heap on the floor.

  Anyone who dares to breathe these words to you whilst pregnant deserves a short, sharp punch in the gut.

  2.‘Don’t be too precious about yourself.’

  WTF? You are growing a human being all on your own. That’s right: tiny feet, hands, heart and a brain, to name just a few of the awe-inspiring tasks you are completing on a weekly basis! If anyone deserves to be treated like a precious commodity, it is you and your growing bump! Over the years, the term ‘precious’ has been used as a derogatory term. ‘Ooh, she’s a bit precious’, ‘Ooh, you don’t have to be so precious about yourself.’ Well I am saying a big up yours to these idiots who dare say this to expectant or new mums.

  Taking care of yourself and doing what feels right for you and your bump whilst pregnant is top of your agenda – and to hell with anyone who uses the p-word.

  3.‘You have to carry on as normal.’

  Normal – are you kidding me? There is nothing normal or day-to-day about harbouring a human stowaway in your body for nine months and then passing it through the eye of a needle that is your vagina. If you feel great and want to go to all the social engagements and gym classes going, fantastic! However, if the thought of keeping up appearances and making out that you feel blooming and bursting with energy is making you want to squeeze lemon onto the backs of your eyeballs, then just say no! Yes, the magic word that evaporates all the responsibilities and hassle of having to get ready in a bump-flattering outfit, paint on a smile and pretend that you wouldn’t rather be at home in your PJs, watching Corrie and eating chocolate biscuits.

  4.‘In my day there was none of this nonsense about what you should and shouldn’t be doing when pregnant.’

  Yes, but you also had parent and baby books advising you that smoking was OK as long as it was in moderation! Obviously, there are some things that can now seem a bit OTT when it comes to all the things pregnant mums need to remember as out of bounds and harmful to themselves and their growing baby. However, some of these restrictions are there for a valid reason (aka medical advances) and just because they were not around thirty years ago does not mean that they are a scaremongering tactic or that as mums we are being fussy and overcautious if we abide by them. We are just doing what we have been advised is the best way to bring our baby into this world, so please don’t try and make us feel otherwise.

  5.‘Once you get that baby in your arms, everything will feel right.’

  We all know that we need to keep ourselves fit and well throughout pregnancy, and that we need to prepare for childbirth through regular exercise and good nutrition. However, we don’t often take time to ensure we are taking care of our mental wellbeing. We are instead told that, once we become a mum, everything will just feel ‘right’. But what do we do if it doesn’t?

  Both our bodies and our minds go through huge monumental changes whilst we are pregnant, and then when we become mums. Therefore, we need to make sure we take care of our mental health by ensuring that we talk about any anxieties and worries we may have, and by taking time out to rest. We have to make ourselves a priority by educating ourselves on maternal mental health illnesses – what they are and where to get the right help and support if we are suffering through pregnancy or following the birth of our baby. (For anyone needing support during pregnancy or after the birth of your baby then please see page 236–page 238 for support services you can access.)

  6.‘Ohhh let me have a feel!’

  They come at you from out of nowhere. Before you know it, you have a pair of hands feeling and rubbing their way across your stomach whil
st you look on in shock and dismay. And as your pregnancy and size of bump progresses, it seems you are fair game for anyone to have a grope. The worst are the totally inappropriate tummy terrorists who think that feeling the lower part of your bump is acceptable rather than verging on sexual harassment. ‘Don’t you realise your hands are sitting on the top of my vagina! Please get the hell away from me!’

  7.‘Wow you’re getting big!’

  The only comment anyone should pass about the size of your bump or appearance during pregnancy is to tell you how great you look. I don’t care if you are the size of a hippo on steroids or are alternatively verging on the smaller side, no one should be passing comment – at least, not out loud and not to your face! Comments such as ‘Wow, you’re getting big’ should be met with ‘No shit Sherlock, I’m growing a human. What’s your excuse?’ And anyone who dares comment, ‘Wow you’re tiny, are you sure that’s normal?’ should be met with a kick to the shin.

  8.‘When can we come and stay?’

  ‘Hmmmm, you can’t!’. Visitors popping in for an hour is one thing. Hopefully, they will come bearing prepared meals and compliments and no expectations of being hosted, and then after whipping the hoover around and washing up their tea cups, they’ll be on their merry way. Overnight houseguests you don’t have to accept. You have become a mum, not a B & B!

  9. ‘Oh you’re taking the easy way out and having an epidural?’

  There is no ‘easy way’ out when you are trying to push a baby out of a small hole in your body. Fact. As mums-to-be we are bombarded with opinions about how we should be bringing our tiny human into the world, with our options graded from being hardcore and doing it drug-free to taking the easy way out by having an epidural or a C-section. Let me be the first to tell you that all of it is damn hardcore! Each option is challenging and scary as hell. No matter how you bring your tiny human into the world, you are a ROCK STAR!

  10.‘So, come on, tell me your baby names.’

  DON’T DO IT! Seriously, no matter how strong the urge to spill the beans on the carefully planned names that both you and your partner have fallen in love with, keep them to yourself. Just one slightly off response of ‘Oh, really’ or ‘Wow, that’s a bit unusual’ will have you backtracking for the rest of your pregnancy.

  11.‘Ooh, make the most of your sleep/life/whatever – because when the baby comes, your life is over!’

  Just shut the fuck up, will you!

  CHAPTER 4

  CHILDBIRTH, AKA TRYING TO PUSH A TINY HUMAN OUT OF YOUR VAGINA

  THANK GOD FOR ONE BORN EVERY MINUTE!

  I have to admit it, before the birth of my first tiny human I didn’t pay the actual giving birth bit much attention (STUPIDLY). When I mentioned antenatal groups to my gynaecologist and he realised how long the journey up and down the mountain would take, he told me not to bother, so I didn’t! Oh yes, the sheer pre-baby bliss of not knowing what lies ahead and the bloody cruelty of hindsight when I was 5 centimetres dilated, screaming like a demon and wanting to punch the aforementioned gynae in the face for not frogmarching me to those meetings! (Thank God for One Born Every Minute, which I watched religiously throughout my first pregnancy.)

  Antenatal classes in France don’t seem to hold the same importance as they do here in the UK (well, not to my gynaecologist at least). And I have to admit that, despite the horror stories I’ve heard about antenatal groups from other mums, I feel that on the whole I did miss out on this front, by not having the opportunity to meet potential new mum friends for that much-needed support.

  Therefore, going into childbirth for the first time, my birth plan went a bit like this: I’ll have contractions, do my yoga breathing until the pain is too much to bear and I’ll then have an epidural and have a baby. The End.

  My tiny human had other ideas. She came six weeks early, which involved a couple of stints in hospital pre-birth, three days of being induced, a failed epidural, blind shit-the-bed panic and a drug-free-but-not-by-choice birth that had me climbing out of my skin and telling my husband never to ask me to do that EVER again.

  Fast forward eighteen months and I was back a-bloody-gain with my second baby. And again six weeks early, following a couple of stints in hospital. This time, though, it involved a successful epidural and a textbook birth with me telling my hubby straight after that ‘I would do that again tomorrow!’. Unbelievable, that two birth experiences could be so very different.

  And I guess that’s the point: we can only prepare for what is about to happen as best we can. That means doing whatever the hell you need to do to get yourself through it and bring your tiny human into the world as safely as possible. Whether this means meditating with Himalayan goats pre-birth, necking all the drugs available, reading every birthing book and technique going, exercising throughout to be as strong and as fit as possible – whatever it is, don’t worry about what other people think of your techniques, ideas and values on the matter. Do what you need to do to get prepared.

  They say that nothing can really prepare you for the reality of childbirth. However, I believe that talking about our experiences without fear of judgement, and being honest about its realities helps us to get as prepared as possible both physically and mentally.

  Most importantly, what ever happens, when you come out the other side of it, please remember this: no matter what type of birth you have, no matter how you bring your tiny human into this world, you bloody rock and are truly magnificent!

  DEAR FANNY– A LETTER TO MY PRE-BABY VAGINA

  Now before we get cracking with sharing our birth stories, there is someone we need to invite to the party. After all, she plays a key role in getting our tiny humans here as safe and sound as possible. Oh yes, our dear friend Fanny.

  Dearest Fanny,

  Firstly, may I say that I have the upmost respect for the services you’ve rendered so far over the past thirty-nine years. I want to commend you on how reliable, trustworthy and downright supportive you’ve been of me and whatever strange friends, creams, waxing trends you’ve been subjected to – by me.

  That’s why I can’t let you go into this next part of our journey without a bit of a heads-up about what’s about to be coming your way.

  I don’t know quite how to break this to you, but in just a matter of weeks a tiny human will be making its way into this world via your good self!

  Yes. Yes, I know, I get it. WTF, right? I hear ya, sista! I also can’t get my head (or it seems my vagina) around the idea that a tiny human will soon be exiting us.

  But as eye-watering, leg-crossing and palpitation-inducing the very idea of it is, similar to that dodgy Brazilian (no, I’m not referring to Bruno), we need to face this challenge head on (literally).

  You see, as much as the midwife, the doctors and the hubby will be there to help us through, the rest of bringing this tiny human into the world safely – the most important part, in fact – is up to us: Team Vagina.

  Therefore, in exchange for you keeping up your end of the bargain, I will make a couple of promises to you. I promise to do my best to keep you as informed as possible about what’s happening (though I’m guessing that because you will have a front-row seat you will be more in the know than me!).

  I promise to be as brave as I can be without being too proud or ashamed to ask for help if or when the pain gets too much to bear.

  I promise to work with you as much as I can to get this baby here as safely and as quickly as humanly possible (the sooner it’s over for both of us, the better).

  I apologise now for any ‘work’ you may need post-baby.

  However, to make up for this work, I promise that after the arrival of the tiny human I will have ice packs, a rubber ring, perineum cream and a cocktail of painkillers at the ready.

  Most importantly, I do so solemnly declare – for the sake of us both – that I will not rush you into getting back to business as usual. I will give you time to recover and the R-E-S-P-E-C-T you deserve for being such a Vagina Rock Star!
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br />   Yours forever grateful and in awe of the wonderful work you do,

  Me, the lady upstairs

  MY FIRST BIRTH EXPERIENCE – ‘NEVER ask me to do THAT again… EVER!’

  Childbirth happens, I’ve discovered, when you’re busy making birth plans.

  I had a feeling my first baby was going to come early. I remember getting to seven months pregnant and looking at myself in the mirror clad in big pants and an unwired maternity bra (I know, what a vision, right?) and proclaiming to my husband: ‘Jesus, I don’t think I can get much bigger.’ He laughed as only a man that has not been stretched beyond recognition can, and told me that I still had a long way to go yet (cheers, love!). However, that’s not really what I meant. I wasn’t on about the size of my tummy, so much as trying to describe how I felt. My tummy was heavy and low, I was feeling stretched as far as I could possibly stretch and, without sounding like a weirdo, my body just felt like it was getting ready to give birth.

  Luckily a few days after this stretching epiphany, I was at the gynaecologist for my thirty-two-week checkup, which involved not only looking at the baby but also checking out my cervix too. From how I was feeling in my body, I just knew that he was going to tell me that something was up.

  ‘Have you been having contractions?’ came the voice from between my stirruped legs.

  ‘Hmm, well, I don’t know, as I don’t know what they feel like [obvs!].’

  ‘Well, have you been having any pains?’

  ‘Now you mention it, for the past week I’ve been waking up in the middle of night in pain, like there is an earthquake going off in my tummy and it wakes me up.’ (Oh, Jeez, Liv, I wonder what those could have been?)

  ‘OK, well you’ve been having contractions and I know this because your cervix has shortened. It is a lot shorter than it should be at this stage. It may calm down and stay where it is and be OK. However, we need to monitor it and you need to start taking it easy.’