Chapter 3

‘I’m not finding pregnancy much
of a joy. I am afraid of childbirth,
but I am afraid I can’t find
a way of avoiding it.’

Bridget Bardot

Baby steps…

LISTEN to your body – having a baby is one of the most physically demanding experiences your body will endure – take care of it and listen to it when you need to rest.

TIME is a healer – never a truer saying than when recovering from childbirth. You may feel broken in the early aftermath, but you WILL feel better physically as Mother Nature helps repair and restore your body.

DON’T MEASURE yourself against anyone else’s recovery – just because so and so is already signing up for Buggy Fit moments after giving birth, it doesn’t mean you have to compete. Go at your own pace.

* Warning: if you are yet to experience the ‘joy’ of childbirth and are in a blissful pre-birth bubble and would rather stay there, thank you very much, it’s going to get pretty graphic so you might want to skip this chapter and come back once you’re through the other side.*

Let’s get physical

I have ummed and ahhed a lot about what to include in this chapter. It has in fact become quite the discussion point among my friends and colleagues, most of whom are mothers, or about to become one, with regards to how much detail to go into when it comes to the nitty gritty of childbirth. I do believe it’s not for anyone to project their experiences on to another person, unless it’s been asked for by the receiver. Everyone has a unique birth and the very last thing I want to do is to evoke even a smidgeon of anxiety or fear in an expectant mum – that would be foolish and irresponsible of me in a book that’s about tackling anxiety!

However, having thought long and hard about how much to open up to you and tell you how it was for me, and after gaining a lot of feedback from mum pals, the majority have reasoned that they wish they had known much more beforehand about how birth can feel as, like me, they went into the whole labour process thinking that breathing and panting would suffice (and it did for some of them, fear not!). The harsh reality for many mums, though, was that it was a pretty challenging ordeal that hurt a lot more than they thought it would. Not being any the wiser they felt like they in some way failed, were crap at giving birth, and generally as though they should have coped better. A lot of these mums developed feelings of low self-esteem and anxiety as a result. Hindsight is of course a wonderful thing, but after much discussion, lots of the new mums and pregnant women I interviewed asked me to include this chapter in the fairly graphic way I have, so at least for those who might want to have an insight into a fairly bad birth, it’s here for the taking.

On the flip side, some mums told me they went through pregnancy deliberately ignoring TV programmes such as One Born Every Minute and not reading a thing as they preferred to just go with the flow or were too anxious to want to know. Some mothers feel very strongly that no mother-to-be should hear anything remotely negative about birth, and others have implored me to share my, and others’ stories in order to feel normal, less lonely, and more positive about their own experiences. All agree that anyone who is slightly fearful, prone to anxiety, or would rather just leave things to Mother Nature – and in one mum’s words ‘float through pregnancy in a state of blissful ignorance’ – would perhaps be better just skipping over this chapter.

The main thing is you take care of yourself, and know what you need and want to hear, emotionally and mentally.

Getting real

I don’t care how much the books and magazine articles dress it up with ‘you soon forget the pain’, and the ‘it’s so worth it’ nonsense – unless you’re somehow void of all sensation (and there are also just some women who genuinely don’t find giving birth painful), the fact is that for most of us, giving birth doesn’t half sting. A lot. In fact, thinking about it, pregnancy can smart a bit, too, what with the sore boobs, stretching ligaments, frequently being winded by baby kicks to the ribcage and, if you’re part of the ‘Farmer Giles’ club like me, embracing the joys of pregnancy piles (haemorrhoids) – it’s safe to say that few come through the whole experience unscathed.

So, before we delve in, I must once again remind you that a lot of this is my opinion, I didn’t enjoy giving birth – there, I said it. But lots of friends and new mums tell me how much they embraced giving birth, found it empowering, and I’ve had more than one new mum tell me they felt like Superwoman and as though they could conquer the world straight after giving birth – they found the whole experience liberating. And let’s be honest, what we consider painful varies from person to person. My pain threshold is low. So low in fact that I had a general anaesthetic once to take a tooth out. To say I’m hardcore would be a complete lie, so I do appreciate that my perspective on this chapter is merely that, my perspective, and should be treated as one person’s experience, in order to gain some sort of insight into a warts-and-all birth account, and to alleviate any nagging feelings of post-birth anxiety and low mood.

This chapter is all about being honest, open and real about some of the gorier and frequently embarrassing aspects of childbirth, namely the physical stuff. The stuff that impacts how we feel about giving birth and informs our unique opinion. Women have been giving birth since the dawn of time – it’s a commonplace event: births happen all over the world every minute of the day. However, that doesn’t, and more importantly shouldn’t, take away from each woman’s individual experience. It shouldn’t ever detract from your experience. I’ve lost count of the amount of times new mothers brush their discomfort, pain and exhaustion under the carpet, embarrassed by society into not wanting to make a fuss as ‘everyone else does it so I should just suck it up too’. WRONG!

Just because gazillions of people pop sprogs out, admittedly some with more ease than others, it doesn’t mean we can’t moan about and debrief our own experiences – in fact, quite the opposite, it’s helpful to do just that. In chapter 9 I’m going to talk even more about how we can do this professionally with a birth reflection.

Now remember, this is a book about parenting anxiety and mental health, and just because some women have non-complicated births, it doesn’t mean for one moment that their feelings and emotional state after they’ve experienced childbirth aren’t equally important. Even if their privates are wonderfully intact, it doesn’t mean that other physical and mental issues can’t arise and be as upsetting and traumatic as those experienced by people who had more traumatic births. Remember girls, we all experience our own highs and lows at different points during our birthing journey. We all have a voice that deserves to be listened to.

‘After a quick birth, I was concerned I wasn’t healing well – it took some time and was probably made worse by the amount of walking I did in the first weeks. I wasn’t sure how I would cope with so much time indoors and without much structure to the days so I compensated by getting out A LOT. I still think this was the right approach for me.’

Steph – mum to Livy, aged 10 months

The final push

Most new parents can talk of little else. You only have to be a fly on the wall in a baby weigh-in clinic or an NCT coffee club to hear tales of episiotomies, forceps and emergency C-sections as new mums jostle to share their birth stories, desperate for an empathetic ear. It’s like Birth Story Bingo. You hit the jackpot when you stumble across someone else who has encountered a similar experience, and with a knowing look of sympathy you instantly connect over your shared knackered baby-making bits, or whatever. I remember seeing two women, strangers, actually embrace in a drop-in clinic’s toilets after sharing a passing quip about their lax pelvic floor.

In my haste to offload my own tale of woe, I remember not even being able to wait until the more appropriate audience of a baby group, and ended up prattling on to some poor woman in the supermarket check-out queue as I was bulk buying formula, about how ‘bloody awful’ my experience was, and how I couldn’t sit down properly without the aid of a cushion wedged up my arse. Said woman politely smiled and nervously laughed as though I was joking (I wasn’t). Instead she did what everyone does when they don’t want to hear the (admittedly rather too candid) truth, she ignored the awkwardness and instead coochy cooed my boy snuggled up in his pram – trying her best to ignore the oversized matching tracksuit- and flip-flop*-wearing weirdo (me) standing next to her.

(* It was October and as my feet were still swollen with fluid retention the only shoes that fit were my flip-flops.)

And this is the thing: few people (bar other new mums) want to hear the crap bits about your birth. Quite understandably, they just want to gush over your new little baby, but the more disregarded our experience and feelings, the more it can weigh us down with unresolved emotions, perhaps of regret, resentment or confusion about how the birth ended. It can also leave us feeling anxious, stressed and upset. As is the case in a lot of situations we encounter in life, if we harbour feelings of negativity or upset, we often can’t move forwards properly until someone gives us the chance to offload those feelings. When giving birth takes a different path to what we’ve perhaps planned, prepared or hoped for, it can be utterly terrifying, a massive let-down, and can be in large part responsible for us mums experiencing all kinds of emotionally and mentally challenging feelings afterwards.

My birth story

WARNING! If you do NOT wish to delve into other people’s birth stories, I recommend you skip this next bit.

As you’ve probably gathered by now, my birthing experience was an A-grade shit-fest. From the moment I went a day overdue I became an even more anxious tetchy vat of hormones waiting to go off like a bomb at any minute. My darling son chose to hang on in there for a full 10 DAYS longer than we had hoped, and when I finally woke at 5am on the Monday morning to the first scary, yet exciting, twinges of early labour, I foolishly thought ‘great, gimme a few hours and I’ll have a baby’. The next bit I’ve decided to include in order to share and offer empathy and support to others, not evoke fear! Remember, this was MY birth, and yours will be, or has been, completely unique to you.

So here it is, my warts-and-all 40 hours or so of giving birth.

5am – Electric shock-like pains in my lower back every 10 minutes. Wake husband, stick the Tens machine on and have a cuppa. We are both like kids on Christmas Day timing the ‘surges’ (hypnobirthing lingo for contractions) and generally faffing about with pillows, birthing balls, soothing music etc.

Noon – Pains are increasing in my back – where are the lower frontal period pains I’ve been anticipating? What’s this back pain bollocks about? No one told me about this?! Order hubby to ring the labour ward, who demand to speak to me to see if I’m really in labour. I fail the test and am told to stay at home until contractions are ‘3 in 10’ (three contractions in every 10 minutes).

4pm – Basically lie, ring the hospital again and say contractions are ‘3 in 10’ as I’m bored and impatient at home and want some pain relief – the Tens machine ain’t cutting it and the back pain is getting really rather bad now.

5pm – Waddle into the birthing unit, snack bag, new pillow and bedraggled husband in tow. Get shown into lovely bright and airy birthing room containing a pool (yes!)… We are IN.

5.15pm – And we are OUT. Silly midwife says I’m only 1cm (1/2in) dilated and have to go home. I start crying and swearing.

8pm – Back pains are off the scale in intensity. Still no period-pain-like contractions: it turns out I’m ‘back labouring’ like my Mum did and baby is likely to be pressing on my spinal nerve, hence the relentless pain. OH JOY!!! Again, why did nobody ever tell me about ‘back-to-back labour’?! (See the box below, FYI.)

10pm – Scream at (laptop-surfing) husband for asking me ‘what type of broadband should we switch to?’ as I bend over the kitchen table feeling like some knife-wielding masochist is plunging a blade into my lower back every two minutes. Husband announces he’s ‘a bit bored’, I lose my shit. Big time.

Midnight – A saviour arrives! My mother (having been called in as reinforcement by verbally-abused hubby) takes charge. Sends the other half off to bed to rest and to stop antagonising me, and sets up a ‘contraction camp’ with birthing ball, six pillows and her very adept hand to rub my back.

1am – I CAN’T DO THIS!!!!! The time for hypnobirthing bullshit is no more. Mum and hubby race me to hospital (again), where upon arrival I simultaneously wet myself and projectile vomit in front of the ward’s automatic doors.

1.05am – Cry pathetically to a lovely kindly midwife who, by way of torture, due to me needing monitoring, an IV drip due to severe dehydration, and potential hardcore drugs due to back-to-back baby – leads us straight through the tranquil birthing unit and into the hardcore consultant-led labour ward. Shit just got real.

1.30–7am – Not quite sure what the hell happened in this time vortex but apparently I yelled – a lot – ingested a shed load of diamorphine, gas and air and some other drugs – can’t really remember what – accidentally kicked a midwife in the face mid-examination, went a bit crazy and in a drug-induced stupor slurred to my birthing team that ‘this was MY show and I was the star, so they could all f**k off’ – how classy.

7am – I’m tired and still not really progressing. I beg for an epidural. And am kindly reminded that it ‘says in my birth plan I wanted to go as natural as possible…’ The subsequent response cannot be printed in this book due to its expletive nature, but suffice it to say that 20 minutes later the anaesthetist walked in and ordered me to ‘sit up on the bed and lean forwards’.

7.30am – Oh the lovely lovely lovely drugs. Epidurals are pain-relief heaven, molten liquid pain-relief gold hitting the spot perfectly – and I didn’t feel a thing when he injected it. With all pain finally numbed and feeling a little bit more relaxed, I set about apologising to the birthing professionals I’ve just sworn at for the past six hours straight.

7.30am–4pm – I coast along in a haze of epidural bliss, try to have a snooze – can’t – eat a ham sandwich and a bag of Jelly Babies. Medical people keep coming in and checking me and baby. Progress is slow, baby is in an odd position and still back to back. Hormone-induction drip is administered, waters are broken by midwife, contractions are ramping up – finally. Don’t really feel anything due to lovely pain relief.

4pm – I’m 10cm (4in) dilated – the Holy Grail! I can start pushing. Get on to all fours on bed, not an easy feat as half my body is semi-paralysed with the epidural, but give it a go assisted by mum, husband and lovely midwife. Push like the clappers cheered on by hubby who puts on the Rocky IV theme tune for ‘inspiration’.

5.30pm – Houston there seems to be a problem! A BIG ASS problem. Baby is stuck. Lots of strangers in white coats rush in, it seems there’s a queue of people waiting to stick their hands up my vag and have a rummage around… It is declared I can ‘do no more’ and the medical team now need to ‘get baby out pronto!’

6–7pm – The worst ‘best’ hour of my life. Terrified, dazed, exhausted and already majorly sleep deprived, I get wheeled into theatre to be greeted by 20 or so doctor people all gowned up and ready for battle. I cry (again), husband looks equally terrified (but also quite fit in his ER scrubs), I sign lots of bits of paper to allow ‘procedures’ to happen, repeat my name and date of birth a zillion times, and get asked umpteen times if I ‘understand’ what’s about to happen (of course I bloody don’t, but I say yes).

I sit up on the bed and lean forwards (again) for another epidural… then a spinal block to ensure I’m really numb below the chest… get put in position, legs akimbo and in stirrups, and catch a glimpse of the forceps that are about to help the baby out!

‘When I say push, PUSH!’ Things go rather hazy, the anaesthetic double whammy has more than done its job, perhaps a little too well as I start to feel rather sleepy… I hear my husband say in earnest ‘come on Anna, PUSH!’ I hear the best sound in the world… a baby cry… and my hubby tearfully whispering to me, ‘Anna we’ve had a little boy’. Then I see the flash of a mushed-up goo-covered face staring up into mine from my chest, before my 30-seconds-old son is taken away to be cleaned up while I basically fall asleep with the exhaustion and shock of it all.

After 40 hours of labouring, I came out of it all alive, if not completely unscathed – I had a reasonably impressive post-partum haemorrhage (lost some blood), an episiotomy, and a forceps delivery. Although I felt as though I’d been run over by a truck, then reversed over a few more times for good measure, I was alive, well (ish), and more importantly, so was my beautiful new son.

OK – now I hope I haven’t been too graphic or put the fear into anyone. I‘ve thought long and hard about including this description in this book – my very last intention is to cause anyone unnecessary anxiety about giving birth. But I also think the object of this book is to be honest and open, with the aim of being helpful, empathetic and helpful. From the feedback I’ve had, I feel I owe it to you to not be another hushed-into-silence new mother, and instead throw caution to the wind and include my experience with the sole aim of providing comfort to the many others who tell me they also felt, and feel, the same.

So many people tell me they also had scary moments and yet have felt compelled to keep shtum for fear of upsetting others (and I get that, no one wants to intentionally worry another mum or dad), so with great trepidation, I’m being as real as I dare about my birthing experience, as how I dealt with it is hugely connected to the emotional and mental health fall-out that happened in those early days, weeks and months.

I would also like to reassure you that during my son’s birth, no matter how scary it felt at the time, I was safe, under expert care, and physically recovered well and quickly – quite miraculously actually. The NHS and its medical and midwifery team are a credit to us all and I am in forever in their debt.

Birthing the afterbirth

Once the anaesthetic had worn off I remember thinking to myself ‘holy crap, what has my body just endured?!’ On one hand I was proud and in awe that my little 5ft 3in self had managed to achieve the mammoth task of actually getting a real life baby out of it, but on the other I was in a state of shock, sporting a rather fetching pair of surgical socks and unable to feel my lower half.

The fact is, though, that labour doesn’t end when the baby has popped out – there’s still the placenta to deliver, and the afterpains as your uterus contracts, and how these feel and how well the process goes can greatly vary. One mum told me her story of sitting up in bed with her nightie rucked up around her hips, trying to get her minutes-old baby to breastfeed while she entered the third stage of labour (the delivery of the placenta), which, once the contractions had resumed, felt like she was giving birth all over again. Other mums say they never noticed the placenta ‘birth’ bit, but some speak of it quite poignantly. Either way, it’s an incredibly important phase since if the placenta refuses to come out or is partially retained then infection can set in and haemorrhaging can occur.

Then there’s also the contracting of the uterus that happens soon after birth. I felt a bit squeamish as it gradually shrank down over several days, but didn’t find it particularly painful, whereas some mothers, particularly those who have had more than one child, say it’s a whole new pain-relief ball game in itself enduring the uterine contractions, since it usually happens much more rapidly for subsequent births.

Assisted births – when you need some extra help

There has been a bit of a frankly long-overdue shift in the news and media recently around natural versus assisted births. For a long time there has been a pressure, propaganda almost, that natural births are ‘best’, but thankfully these opinions and campaigns are being increasingly shelved in order to stop women feeling like failures if they don’t, or can’t, go down this route. Every birth is deserving of the same level of respect and praise and yet lots of women say they’ve somehow been made to feel rubbish, less of a woman even, if they’ve had anything other than a natural birth. Which is terrible! Let me tell you, there is nothing ‘less’ about having any sort of procedure to ensure the delivery of a healthy baby!

Intervention or assisted births are when mum and baby need a helping hand, and according to the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists account for almost one in eight (12 per cent) of vaginal births in the UK, and for Caesarians it’s around one in every four.

There are several reasons why the decision to intervene by doctors and midwives is taken. These can include the baby being overdue (or it being safer for mum and baby if the baby is born early), in distress or showing a reduced heart rate; the baby being in an awkward position; the waters having broken but contractions not starting; and/or the mother being too tired to carry on without some extra help.

It can be hugely daunting and frightening for an expectant mother to be told she needs a helping hand to have her baby. It can also be a really worrying time for dad/partner, too, as the options presented all carry risk, some more than others, and are just another thing to have to get your head around! I entered my labour hoping, understandably, for a simple birth, so when I was faced with more interventions than you could throw a stick at, I freaked out. And once the ordeal was over, I was left with the mental and emotional discomfort, as well as the physical. Another mother told me that she’d never anticipated that she would want more pain relief as a result of needing an assisted birth, and that she felt in some way that she’d failed because she needed, in her words ‘bloody everything on offer!’

Some of the most common interventions or assisted birth procedures are:

Induction

According to NHS Maternity Statistics, more than one in four women need an induction procedure to help get labour kick-started for one reason or another.

Labour can be induced using a pessary, which is a small almond-shaped tablet that a medical professional inserts into your vagina to slowly release a substance called prostaglandin (naturally found in the womb lining) that should soften the cervix and encourage contractions. In some cases, when things need to be moved on more quickly, waters can be artificially broken by the midwife using an amnio hook (a bit like a crochet hook) to painlessly rupture the membrane/sack, or an artificial hormone called syntocinon can be given through a drip in the arm to get contractions started or going again. In some cases labour may have already started but slowed down or stopped altogether and so needs a bit of a boost – like jump-starting a car engine.

During induced labour, often the contractions come on quite quickly, with the result that because there hasn’t been time to let either them or your levels of the natural pain-killer hormone beta-endorphin gradually build up, they can feel stronger and more painful than contractions that start naturally, and there may be shorter intervals for recovery in between. This may lead to you needing strong pain relief, such as an epidural.

Forceps and ventouse

In the UK, 13 per cent of babies are born by forceps or ventouse – two different instruments that can help deliver a baby.

Forceps are a surgical instrument that comes in two halves and looks like large salad tongs. Each half is carefully put round the baby’s head while it is in the birth canal, and the two handles fit together. The doctor pulls at the same time as you push with a contraction (if you can), to assist in getting the baby out.

A ventouse is a silicone cap attached to a suction pump. The cap is fitted on the baby’s head while it is in the birth canal and is kept in place using suction. The ventouse is then pulled, as for the forceps delivery, to help the baby be born.

According to the NHS, using forceps is more likely to be successful than a ventouse. However, ventouse delivery is less invasive, takes up less space in the vaginal canal, and as such doesn’t always require you to have an episiotomy – so is sometimes the first option. Forceps are often used if a ventouse hasn’t worked, and its use brings an increased risk of complications for the woman in labour such as potential tears to the perineum (the area between the vagina and the bottom).

Episiotomy

An episiotomy is a deliberate surgical cut to the vagina, often made by the doctor just before the baby is born. It’s aim is to reduce the risk of sustaining a vaginal tear (which can be harder to heal from), widen the opening (perhaps for forceps or ventouse delivery), and allow the baby to be born more quickly. This is repaired using stitches under local anaesthetic following the birth.

Caesarean (C-section)

A Caesarean is an operation that allows your baby to be born without going through the birth canal. Instead, they’re born through a cut in your abdomen.

A Caesarean birth involves major abdominal surgery, although this can usually be done with a type of anaesthetic, such as an epidural, that allows you to remain awake if you want.

There are two types of Caesarean section (C-section) – planned (elective) and unplanned (emergency). A planned C-section is scheduled to take place before labour starts and it may be planned for medical reasons, such as the position of the baby, or solely due to the mother’s request. In chapter 9 I talk more about elective C-sections, why you might want to consider it, and what the current NICE guidelines say. It is becoming increasingly common for women who have experienced a traumatic vaginal birth to opt for a planned C-section the next time round – according to the NCT elective C-sections are up year on year and now account for 13 per cent of births in the UK.

More than one in six of us need an emergency C-section. These take place quickly because an unexpected problem has arisen and the baby needs to be born as soon as possible. This decision is usually made when you are already in labour and it can be very fraught and traumatic for all involved.

Now, you may have experienced one or more of these procedures, or you may have been spared the added inconvenience that an assisted birth, or birth intervention, creates… Regardless, most women come out the other side of giving birth with a few war wounds to write home about.

‘With my first labour I remember physically feeling like I had been hit by a bus, two-and-a-half hours of pushing followed by an episiotomy and ventouse delivery left me fairly bruised and battered, but I also felt like I could take on the world for those first 24 hours. Even now, I feel like my two labours are my greatest achievement.’

Ana – mum of two

Breaking point

IF PERHAPS you’re yet to give birth, or you’re supporting someone who’s about to and want to give some helpful advice, remember that YOU are in charge of your baby and body. Ask questions as much as you want and need in order to help you feel as clued up, and as in control of what’s to come, as you’re able to.

FOCUS ON the end goal. In those moments of ‘OMG I can’t do this’, tell yourself that you CAN, and visualise the very end moment, when you get to meet your baby, as the motivation to keep going.

MAKE A FUSS! If you’re feeling unsure or scared in any way, make sure you tell someone and ask for extra help, reassurance, and if you want it, as much pain relief as you darn well choose.

NO MATTER how challenging it can feel, remember that labour WILL come to an end before long. Do whatever you need and want to do and never ever feel as though you’re being a nuisance or a wuss.

‘The baby and I were put in a side room and pretty much left there on our own. I felt completely out of it; a strong part of me just wanted to fall asleep in exhaustion as I was wiped out but the other part was looking at the baby in the cot next to me and starting to panic a bit about what I was supposed to be doing.’

Suki – mum to IVF baby Eddie

Activity alert

Celebrate your inner Supermum

This exercise is intended to help you embrace the positive aspects of your birth and in the process let any negative or uncomfortable feelings you might be experiencing take a momentary back seat. Our mind is super powerful and we can help ease off any physical discomfort by kicking our imagination and senses into action. Don’t believe me? Why not have a go?

Find a time when it’s most likely that there’ll be a moment of calm and you can just ‘be’. It might be mid breast/bottle feed, on the loo, perhaps in the middle of a bath or shower, and allow this time (even if just a few sacred minutes) to be just YOU.

During these precious few minutes, you are going to give your body and mind permission to leave any pains, niggles or twinges behind, safe in the knowledge that anything you might be feeling physically as a result of giving birth is also due to your body achieving the most amazing thing – producing a baby.

As you reflect on this single thought, allow yourself to feel proud of yourself. Wow, you actually did it! How incredible are you?! Thank your body for doing an amazing job.

Now, take a lovely big, deep breath, close your eyes, and cast your mind back to the moments just after your baby arrived. Focus on anything positive from that experience… Perhaps you remember the first time you clapped eyes on your baby, maybe you can recall the first sniff of that lovely unique baby smell, recalling your baby’s first cry, signalling that all was well, how about holding baby’s tiny hand for the first time, or perhaps you felt instant relief that he/she was now here and any pain was over…

Take notice of all those feelings, anything you felt, saw, or heard… Recall all the good things, no matter how tiny and insignificant they might seem, and allow those positive experiences to fill your mind and body.

Allow the feel-good remembered feelings to flood through your body like a warm wave passing from head to toe, and as you allow those memories to engulf you, enjoy how they make you feel.

With these lovely thoughts and feelings passing through your body, allow yourself to smile at the memories, and make every feeling and thought better, brighter and sharper. For example, if you feel warm and fuzzy when remembering your baby gazing up at you as you do skin-on-skin bonding for the first time, make this feeling even warmer, more glowing and perhaps even give it a warm colour such as yellow like that of the summer sun.

Let your imagination go wild and make everything good about your birth – and there will be something even if you have to dig deep – as wonderful as you possibly can.

In the final few moments of letting yourself get lost in this wonderful memory, take another long, slow, deep breath and as you exhale, open your eyes and give yourself a jolly good ‘well done me’.

This is a nice quick little activity for those ‘ouch’ recovery days, when you perhaps need to give yourself a bit of a boost.

Other yuck stuff

Whether you’ve had birth invention or delivered your baby without needing one, with perhaps the exception of a C-section, our private parts are likely to feel a little battered and bruised – after all, don’t they say it’s the equivalent of pooing a melon?! Ouch.

Other yukky and unsettling stuff also happens to us ladies in the aftermath, and the physical task of childbirth and what it leaves behind can have a huge impact mentally, causing feelings of anxiety, worry and low mood. This is completely normal – after all, if you weren’t just the teensiest bit worried or nervous about the state of your tender fanny, or anxious about the engorged leaky boobs you’ve suddenly developed, it’d be a bit odd right? I remember one new mum pal messaging our group in the middle of the night announcing she was actually quite freaked out about her massive ‘burger nipples’ and asking ‘would they ever shrink down again?!’

The physical changes my body was going through in the run-up to giving birth were certainly more than a little worrying and anxiety inducing. My boobs in particular scared the bejeezus out of me… I used to pride myself on having a pretty good pair of 34Ds but, fast forward a couple of decades and having suddenly developed nipples the size of dinner plates, a rather disturbing shade of ‘bruise’ purple, and leaking yellow honey-like liquid (the magic colostrum) and then, later, spurting milk all over the shop, I was more than a little irked.

Then there’s the post-birth ‘puff’ as I call it. The best way I can tastefully describe my under-carriage after all the pulling, pushing and shoving it had endured, is that it felt like a miniature inflatable lilo had been attached in between my legs. The horror at putting my hand ‘down below’ to assess the damage and feel my stitches was more than a little distressing – I genuinely worried if I would ever have nookie again (not that I wanted it mind!). It’s true when they say one’s dignity is left firmly at the door when you give birth, and, for me, that really is true – I’d gone from going bright red in embarrassment during a smear test to not giving a flying toss who looked ‘down there’, so desperate was I to be reassured that it was OK and going to be normal again. It was, and it is, thankfully.

Having to have stitches was something I feared big time, but it turns out it was one of the easiest and relatively painless parts of the whole shebang – a great reminder of how anticipation can often be so much worse than the actual event. In fact, so many mums say that the stuff they really feared before giving birth didn’t actually come to fruition. One lady told me how she was fearful, to the point of having a panic attack, about delivering her placenta as she was squeamish about it, yet when it actually came to it yes she felt the milder contractions but she a) was too distracted by her new baby, and b) she never even saw it, so quickly was it whipped away by a midwife. Of course this isn’t always the case, as we’ve already discussed, but the point is that some things turn out to be nowhere near as awful as we imagine them to be.

‘I found it really surreal actually meeting the baby that had been a “bump” for the last nine months. It was not until I met him that it became real for me. Physically I felt knackered and was quite scared to move as I didn’t know what state my body was in.’

Hannah – mum to George, aged 11 months

Something else that really bothered me and was a major anxiety trigger was all the post-birth ‘stuff’ that us women lose after childbirth – I’m talking about the post-birth bleed they call lochia. I remember my NCT teacher warning us expectant parents not to buy a cream sofa or even THINK about sitting on a lightly coloured chair after giving birth! This put the fear into me big time, and ramped my anxiety up more than a little bit at the thought of potential leaks through my massive maternity pads (what an unsexy bit of kit they are eh!), and ruining other people’s upholstery. In reality it really wasn’t half as bad as I’d been led to believe, although many people do experience heavy bleeding and passing of clots for days and even weeks after birth. If you’ve had a C-section, this is less likely since the docs manually remove the placenta and as much ‘debris’ as possible while you are on the operating table, whereas if you have a vaginal birth it all has to come out of its own accord. Either way, the bleeding does eventually end, and if you are well prepared it isn’t something to be too freaked out by.

The water retention and bloating meant I honestly looked like a Michelin Man. I puffed up about four dress sizes the minute I had Enzo – I thought you were supposed to LOSE weight the minute you pop a weighty baby and placenta out, not gain it?! Add to that the constipating iron tablets, getting the hang of breastfeeding (more on this later), and the general bruised and delicate feeling, it’s safe to say I definitely knew I’d just gone through a major life moment, and hadn’t just sneezed a baby out Hollywood-style.

But you know what, for all of the physical wear and tear childbirth undoubtedly takes on our bodies, it’s really is a testament to Mother Nature how it repairs and eventually heals itself – in a lot of cases, until it’s like new. Despite this, there’s no doubt that the early days and weeks of anxiety, worry and stress that I felt, and I know countless others also endure, weren’t helped by all the physical stuff happening to my body, too.

‘After birth, I was very conscious of how I now looked or even how I “felt” down below. Sex wise, it took quite a while for things to get back to normal.’

Elizabeth – mum to Sid, aged two

Holy crap!!

There is no other topic that I talk about on social media that gets quite as much traction and ‘likes’ as Pooing in Peace.

If you’re the partner, friend or relative of someone with a little one then let me tell you now, if there is one charitable thing you can do for a mum of a newborn, then that is to babysit while they pop off for a number two. There is no greater joy than being able to use the loo in peace, and crucially, by yourself. I know, it sounds absurd until it happens to you, but the moment there’s a baby in the mix, you can kiss goodbye to the privacy of being able to go to the toilet for as long you like/need – and if you’ve been put on a course of those dreaded constipating iron tablets then may the force be with you!

A poignant moment was when I had to take my crying 10-day-old son into the loo with me, strap him into a sling on my chest to soothe him and then artfully contort myself in order to ‘do my business’ without gassing the poor mite. A low point for us both (sorry son). I howled with laughter swapping poo stories with a work pal who empathetically shared that she’s fed up with getting her knees bashed on a daily basis by the occupied baby walker following her as she squats on the loo!

‘Going for your “first poo” is a surreal experience. Never have I had so many people genuinely pleased and proud of me for having a s**t.’

Ola – mum of baby girl

And then there’s even being able to GO to the loo in the first place – poo anxiety. Is there a more terrifying moment than going for your first poo after giving birth? I think not. Some 24 hours post-partum I waddled along the hospital corridor, open-backed gown flapping exposing my massive Primark knickers, one hand clutching a brick-sized sanitary pad, the other an NHS cardboard poo container as it was deemed easier to sit on and aim into than the actual lavatory. Not since I was a potty training three-year-old have so many people of authority (the midwives on this occasion, not my mother) been so obsessed with whether I’ve done a poo or not! ‘We just need to check that’s it’s all working m’love’ they said...

Hanging on to the sink and hovering over the container, one eye closed, wincing in expectation at what might come – this was a new form of anxiety to add to my already quite wide range. What if I can’t poo? Will they keep me in another night? Will my stiches hold...? My fears were very real, but in reality even though it wasn’t my finest, most enjoyable of loo moments, it certainly wasn’t half as bad as I’d been fearing. The elation at being able to produce what the midwives wanted me to, and still being intact at the end of my efforts, was worthy of a little whoop and high five to myself in the bathroom mirror.

I know it’s not ladylike but I don’t care what anyone says, toilet anxiety is a thing. A big thing and one that becomes a whole new ball game once you’re a parent. What with keeping the wretched pelvic floor muscles intact, timing your motorway service-station stops to accommodate said pelvic-floor accidents, and finding more than a 60-second window out of your day in which to have a poo between feeds without giving yourself piles or an anal fissure by rushing it (and I’ve done both), going to the loo is a big deal.

How to… have a successful post-birth poo and pee

Getting your bodily functions back on track after birth is a stressful time: try these handy hints to make it that little bit easier.

IF YOU’RE on iron tablets, make sure you drink lots and lots of water to help moisten any excrement waiting to come out. Iron-tablet poos are the worst so help yourself by keeping hydrated.

EAT lots of poo-inducing foods that are high in fibre, such as dried fruits (good old prunes are the best), wholemeal bread, pulses, nuts and bran-based cereals.

Don’t RUSH IT! Rushing a poo is only going to cause more damage in the long run… Breathe your poo out rhythmically, and get someone to watch the baby and any other children while you’re in the bathroom so you can take your time.

DON’T BE alarmed if blood clots come out as you do a poo. Straining, even gently, is likely to cause your lochia to increase in the early days. This is a good opportunity to assess the size and colour of those clots, and seek help if they are larger than they should be or are worrying in appearance (your midwife or doctor can tell you what is and isn’t OK).

IF YOU NEED to… poo in the bath! The warm water can help the act feel a little easier, less painful, and the water also helps in diluting the stingy acidity of an accompanying wee.

IF YOU ARE concerned that you may have burst your stitches while on the loo or that everything is more painful than it should be, seek help as soon as you can. Too many people ignore excessive pain and it can be a sign of infection that needs treating urgently.

YOU CAN also pour a cup of warm water over your front bits as you wee to help with the stinging, although be aware that getting all the water in the loo is quite tricky and it’s likely some will go on the floor.

PELVIC FLOOR! We all get nagged to do them, we all forget to do them, but pelvic floor exercises really do help in strengthening the muscles down below post birth. Pull up your pelvic floor (like you are holding in a wee mid flow) and hold and pulse for three seconds, relax, and then repeat 10 times. Do this several times a day – I try to do it every time I brush my teeth or boil the kettle so I vaguely remember.

IT’S LIKELY that your pelvic floor will be fairly weak for a while, even if you do your exercises religiously, so you may feel more secure if you wear pads in order to avoid any embarrassing accidents. And perhaps give trampolining a miss for a few months…

Will I ever be the same again?

The connection between physical and mental health is such a biggy that I’ll also be touching on other aspects of it in later chapters. The immediate changes are plentiful and can be more than a little overwhelming at times – particularly in those first sleep-deprived days, weeks and months, it can feel huge. The one thing you should take great comfort in is that ultimately, you will always be ‘you’, but perhaps just a different version of yourself – a new you: a parent. And all that this new role throws at you will challenge and make you a stronger, more rounded person as a result. Yes, it can be tough, with lots of little hurdles to tackle along the way as we all adapt to this new way of life, but in between you will get smiles and adoring gazes from your little one – and even in those crap moments, it genuinely makes everything feel 10 times better.

So, my friend, read on for plenty more about the other side of birth, including feeling too anxious to eat, living with a little Sleep Thief, and the million-dollar question a lot of new parents eventually find themselves pondering: ‘when to have sex again?!’

Activity alert

Who do you think you are?

In this activity we’re going to embrace what kind of parent YOU are. You are wonderfully unique in that you are your child’s parent, and that is a hugely privileged and empowering role. So let’s get exploring how special and important you are at this new job.

First up I want you to list your values (what’s important to you) as a parent, for example some of my values are:

Love

Security

Patience

Communication

Boundaries

Trust

Loyalty

Hard work

Forgiveness

Honesty

Health

Freedom

Companionship

Family and friends

Independence

You can list as many of these values as you like.

Once you’ve done this, you can go one step further and add to each one what belief you hold that reinforces this value, for example mine is:

Value: love = belief: ‘I have a loving, supportive family and together we will give Vincenzo all the love in the world he needs to help him feel safe.’

By working through your values and beliefs as a parent you can figure out what’s important to you – and that really is all that matters. If you are confident and assured about what kind of good parent you are, everyone wins.

Dr Reetta says…

After birth physical well-being After the birth you are healing from the physical process and at the same time dealing with all the changes to your daily life since your baby arrived. As Anna experienced, the physical challenges and changes during and following birth can be major, and can include being exhausted due to not sleeping or eating well, and not exercising. You have a baby who cannot tell you what they need. There is a lot going on.

Relaxation is one of the best ways to make yourself feel better, especially if you are in physical pain post-birth, because the more tense you are, the worse the pain will feel. Learning how to relax isn’t easy for many of us – you may be someone who has never learned to truly let go! Or you may be good at it, but now that your baby is here, you might need to re-think how to do it. Let’s take a look at two types of relaxation: with and without your baby. Remember, relaxation is a skill, an attitude and a habit, so expect it to take time, practice and patience. Learning relaxation skills will give you more energy, and help you feel less anxious and tense. In addition, being together closely or skin to skin with your baby produces oxytocin, the ‘love hormone’, which helps with bonding and relaxation too.

Top tips for looking after your physical well-being

1. Build moments of relaxation into your daily routine with your baby. Do this when your baby is content. Lie down on your bed or on the sofa with your baby. Just be there, breathe deeply, look at your baby, study their features, listen to their breathing, smell their smell, stroke their skin, cuddle them. Babies love faces and physical contact. You may find your baby staring at your face and enjoying imitating your facial expressions. By the time your baby is two months old, they will start smiling, which will make these moments of relaxation even more rewarding.

2. Build moments of relaxation into your daily routine without your baby. You may think you are relaxing when you are watching TV or on social media, but this is not true relaxation (however much these activities can be enjoyable). True relaxation will bring on the relaxation response (a feeling of calm in your body and mind), which is the opposite of the stress response (when your mind and body are in fight-or-flight mode). Schedule a time in your day to do some active relaxation, such as deep breathing or muscle relaxation, whereby you mentally engage in the relaxation process.

3. Do some problem solving by setting small goals around diet/nutrition, sleep/rest and physical exercise. These will be individual for everyone, depending on your circumstances pre-baby and now. Thinking about these three areas may be the last thing in your mind, but I would encourage you to dedicate some thought to this. One positive change in one area is likely to lead to other positive changes in other areas. For example, physical exercise, such as going for a walk with your baby, is not only going to reduce tension and boost your mood, but can also help you to clear your mind and gain more balanced perspective on your thoughts.

Quick relaxation exercise

Reduce any physical tension by scanning your body and then ‘squeezing and releasing’ those body parts. You can do this lying down or sitting. Bring your attention to each part of your body one at a time, noticing the physical sensations, starting from your toes and working towards the top of your head. When you notice tension, squeeze and then release those muscles. If you need a bit more guidance, try relaxation exercises on YouTube or mindfulness apps. Mind the Bump is a good app specifically for new and expecting parents, while Headspace is a good generic app – both full of relaxation, breathing and mindfulness exercises.