8. Think about storage options. Consider buying a cot that has storage underneath, or, if it doesn’t, invest in a storage drawer that can slide beneath the cot. You’ll be amazed at how useful it will be for storing extra sheets and blankets.
9. Make sure you have a parent area in the nursery, complete with a comfortable nursing chair and a side table stacked with everything you will need during feeds so that they’re in easy reach. This could include: a phone charger, a book/magazine, a lamp with a low lighting bulb in, tissues, a muslin.
10. Don’t scrimp on a mattress. There’s nothing wrong with accepting hand-me-down changing tables, wardrobes and baby clothes from friends or relatives. But when it comes to mattresses, always buy a new one because it’s more hygienic. You’ll never know how well a second-and mattress was looked after or where it was stored. If you can, better to go new.
A few days later I received a bottle of champagne with a note attached. It simply said, ‘You made every dream come true without us even realising it. Our baby has the most beautiful nursery in the world. Thank you.’ I kept that note in my handbag for a week, and re-read it every time I wanted to smile.
Chapter 11
I never thought an average working Monday would begin with me waving a vibrator in the air and shouting out, ‘Are you sure you want to take this to the hospital?’ But that was exactly what happened when I was at a new client’s house in Notting Hill, helping her pack her hospital bag.
A bump appeared around the doorframe, slowly followed by the rest of Ivy, her arms filled with what looked like hundreds of dresses.
‘Oh, that was in my “maybe” pile . . . Let’s go through that later. First of all, I want you to tell me which dress I should wear at the “Reveal”.’
The ‘Reveal’, as Ivy had explained to me earlier that morning, was the moment when she and her husband would appear on the steps of the famous Lindo Wing, brandishing their brand-new baby for all to see. Since Kate Middleton and Prince William did this on the birth of their son George, it is now a request I get regularly from my clients and it no longer fazes me. If royalty can have a photo shoot opportunity on the steps of the hospital where their baby was born, then why can’t mere mortals too?
Ivy dumped the pile of dresses onto her ornate four-poster bed before pulling out a tight black number that had what looked like shoelaces holding it together at the side. ‘This is my Liz Hurley dress.’ She ran a hand down it fondly. ‘I got it the same year she wore it to the Four Weddings premiere – I was only 17 at the time and believe it or not, it still fits.’
I raised an eyebrow and glanced between Ivy’s baby bump – she was eight months pregnant – and the dress – which looked like it was made using a piece of dental floss.
‘Well, obviously it doesn’t fit me NOW, but as soon as the baby is out, it will.’
I’ve heard this one before a lot and, taking a deep breath, I placed the vibrator I’d been holding back on the bed and patted the spot next to me, beckoning for Ivy to sit down.
‘Ivy, you do know you’re not going to snap back into shape immediately, right?’ I kept my voice deliberately low and steady as I was slightly scared she might erupt when I explained the truth behind giving birth.
She looked at me blankly, so I took that as a sign to continue. ‘You still look at least six months pregnant for a couple of weeks after you have a baby.’ I watched as her eyebrows shot up to her forehead. ‘And you’ll have big sanitary towels in your knickers, so you probably won’t want to be wearing anything skintight. Especially if you end up having stitches. We need to think about maternity bras, too.’
‘Oh, I’ve sorted those.’ Delving into a drawer next to her bed, she pulled out a lacy, hot-pink bra and G-sting. ‘My mum always said you’ve got to wear nice underwear.’
I swallowed and stood up, running my hands down my jeans in a bid to remove any creases and look like I was in control.
‘Ivy, let’s start from the beginning again, shall we? Your hospital bag . . . here’s the list.’ I handed her a neatly printed-out list that I typed out specially for her the night before. Every time I work with a mummy on their hospital bag or baby kit, I always tailor it to the parents and their needs. It’s so easy to just head to the internet and get a generic list, but I know from experience these lists never work. Every mother is different, every budget is different, and every birth is different – so there’s no ‘one- size-fits-all’ hospital bag list. Which is probably why it is one of the most popular services that I offer.
I’m often asked what mums who come to me need help with most and it’s always a difficult question to answer. Every mother has different concerns throughout her pregnancy – sometimes it can be the organisational aspect and wanting to feel in control of everything before the baby arrives, and for others, it’s about understanding as much as possible what to expect once the baby is born and what options are around to help them. The majority of my clients initially come to me asking for a personalised ‘maternity map’, which involves me putting together a month-by-month guide on what they should be doing when, what appointments they should have booked, when their nursery should be finished by, when to start thinking about maternity nurses and so on. I think pregnant mothers can feel incredibly overwhelmed, so 90 per cent of my clients want someone who can say, ‘Breathe – I’m here – this is what needs to be done and by when.’ Others, such as Ivy, are often ‘unique’ in their demands.
I picked up the pink vibrator from her bed and waved it around my head.
‘You need to explain this. Why on earth would you want a vibrator in the hospital when you are giving birth?’ I threw it at her playfully and she exploded with laughter.
‘I heard about these orgasmic births some women have and I thought if I bought my little friend along, it might help.’
I nodded my head in exasperation, smiling the whole time.
‘OK, so that’s one thing that you definitely DON’T need in your hospital bag.’ I changed tack and adopted a soothing tone: ‘Are you sure you’re ready for how your life is going to be once the baby arrives? Did you go to that antenatal class I recommended?’
A few months ago, when Ivy first contacted me, she admitted she was the most clueless pregnant woman out there, so I had made it my mission to educate her as much as possible so she could feel confident and happy about becoming a mother. Since the beginning of her third trimester, I had been sending her daily ‘maternity maps’ in the hope she would be inspired. My maternity maps are essentially ‘to-do’ lists for each week of your pregnancy. They might have important things on them, like booking in certain appointments with midwives, or getting a harmony test (a blood test that analyses the DNA of the fetus and has a detection rate of up to 99% for Down Syndrome), then sometimes I add in little jobs that I know that a particular client might like, such as going shopping for the first baby grow or booking in a pregnancy massage.
Ivy’s maternity map had various things I knew she would love (I actually think she booked in three pregnancy massages at three different places around London!), but the one thing I had circled in red biro and drawn through with a yellow highlighter was ‘attend an antenatal class’. I supplied her with a list of possible classes, outlining what sort of class they were: Posh Chelsea Mums Class, hypnobirthing-focused and so on.
I dug out Ivy’s maternity map from my handbag and jabbed a finger at the spot on the paper. ‘Did you go to any of these?’
Ivy looked up at me sheepishly and shook her head – ‘I didn’t really fancy it.’ I felt the dread swell in my stomach. ‘All that talk about blood and ripped vaginas and pooing during birth . . .’ She shuddered dramatically from her place on the bed. ‘It’s not really “my thing”.’ She made quotation marks with her fingers as she said this and then closed her eyes dramatically.
OK, this woman needs educating – and fast.
* * *
Half an hour later, we have relocated to the home office, which is at the top o
f the house and has incredible floor-to-ceiling views over Holland Park. Ivy is ashen, her hands curled into tight balls in her lap and her mouth wide open in dismay. She is staring at my computer screen, where Rebecca, a wonderful antenatal teacher who I met years ago, is currently demonstrating how a baby’s head fits through the pelvis. The problem is, Ivy has her eyes closed and is rocking manically backwards and forwards in her chair.
‘OK, I honestly can’t do this.’ Her words come short and breathy and for a moment I think she might faint. I reach over and steady the chair for her, handing her a glass of water as I do so.
‘Ivy, you need to face up to this. This is happening in a few weeks’ time. You can’t hide away behind designer dresses and six-inch stilettos. This baby is going to make an appearance and we need to make sure you’re ready.’
I smile into the camera lens back at Rebecca and she grimaces nervously. I think we both know Ivy needs a LOT of training, and she needs it quickly.
‘I’m just so worried.’ Ivy raises a glass of water to her mouth and takes a big gulp. ‘I know you probably think I’m ridiculous, but I’m worrying about stuff most mums probably don’t worry about.’ She looks at me nervously from the corner of her eye and kneads her shoulders with her hands.
I know what’s about to happen as I see it with a lot of my clients: this is what I like to call ‘The Mummy Moment’.
The Mummy Moment is those three minutes before a pregnant or new mummy is about to announce something that she is convinced is the most ridiculous thing you will ever hear. In those three minutes, she is likely to become flushed, agitated and embarrassed before blurting out whatever ‘truth’ it is she wants to convey to you. In Ivy’s case, it’s this: ‘I’m mostly worried about tearing during birth and my vagina never being the same. What if Nick never wants to have sex with me again, or if my vagina hangs really low when I wear a swimming costume? What if I need so many stitches that my vagina will never be the same again? Nick might leave me, no man will ever want me again . . . I’ll be a single mother with a saggy vagina.’
There are three ways to react to this. Option 1: Most people (I presume those who are not parents) might laugh and shake their heads whilst silently muttering, ‘Thank God I’m not the one about to give birth!’ I’m sure some of you are reading this right now and squeezing your thigh muscles tightly together, swearing internally that you’ll never have a baby so you don’t have to have a dialogue like this ever in your life.
Option 2 goes like this: There are those of you likely to be screaming at this page, saying, ‘Get a grip! How vain can you be? Surely you should be worrying about the health of your baby, or how you’re going to manage as a mother, rather than obsessing about your nether regions?’
And then there is Option 3: The Mummy Concierge option. You see, I’ve heard it all before and even if I haven’t, I’m never judgemental. Now, that’s not me trying to be all ‘holier than thou’, it’s just something that, over the years, I have realised is one of the must-have qualities if you’re going to do a job like mine.
So, Ivy’s greatest fear is her vagina and who am I to judge her for that? I have had some pregnant clients who are, faces as red as beetroot when they admit it, petrified of pooing during labour. There are others who admit to having piles (due to pregnancy constipation) so they have to hover over the sofa rather than sit on it because of the pain. I have even had a client who was so embarrassed by her linea nigra (the dark line some women get from their belly button to their pelvis when pregnant) that she booked weekly fake tanning sessions to disguise it.
You name it, I’ve heard it. It’s easy to presume that the ‘sensible’ things to be worried about when you’re pregnant are things like the pain of labour, or if you’re going to be a good mother or not, but delve into a person’s mind and you’ll find that it’s sometimes the ‘little things’ that cause the most stress. I had a client who had been scouring the internet to find a tummy button plaster – something she read about in an American magazine that states it will help ‘push a protruding tummy button back into place’. (For those of you who don’t know this, for some women during pregnancy, your uterus can push your tummy button forward regardless of whether you have an innie or an outie.) My particular client was paranoid that people could now see her ‘outie’ through her clothes and was desperate to find any solution to ‘get it back to normal again’. After a bit of hand holding and tissues to wipe away tears, I confirmed to her that birth would in fact solve the problem as without a baby in there pushing on her uterus, her tummy button would happily revert back to an innie.
The ‘Never the Same Again Vagina’ debacle was one I dealt with a lot too.
‘Ivy, let’s book you an appointment with your midwife so she can talk you through everything and answer all of your questions about your vagina.’ Ivy winced as I said the word. ‘Millions of women give birth every day and their vaginas all remain intact – if not a little bruised for a few weeks. And I’m pretty sure Nick will be so in awe of you for birthing his baby, he’ll be holding you in a hero status light and won’t give a crap about what’s happening below.’
Again, another sentence I never thought would be a part of my daily vocabulary, but there we go.
The one thing I have learnt about pregnant women is that no worry should ever be dismissed. I live by the motto ‘You Do You’ and this transcends throughout pregnancy, birth and beyond. Just because one mother might be worried about something truly serious during her pregnancy (she could have a health issue, for example, or may be having a difficult pregnancy), it doesn’t mean that other mothers’ worries, (torn vaginas, pregnancy farting or haemorrhoids) are any less valid. As people, we are all different – we all wear different clothes, live in different homes, choose to spend our Saturday nights differently – but when it comes to pregnancy, people suddenly feel pressured to fit into one pregnancy category. I completely disagree with this – all mothers are different, all pregnancies are different, all babies are different. There is no one hard-and-fast rule that fits and works for everyone. If I could have ‘you do you’ tattooed on my forehead for whenever I visited a new mother, I would. It’s a phrase that I genuinely believe could help every pregnancy, birth and life beyond.
* * *
It’s getting dark when Ivy and I finally finish putting the last items in her hospital bag. Her call with Rebecca finished an hour earlier and having laid all her fears on the table, Rebecca and I had set about dispelling them all and making sure she felt more comfortable about what lay ahead. Her hospital bag, no longer brimming with inappropriate outfits or buzzing vibrators, was now packed neatly and sensibly with garments for her baby carefully folded into Ziploc plastic bags (a tip I learnt many years ago, which saves tired and emotional parents from scurrying around in the bag, trying to find that rogue baby mitten or hat).
Ivy also has a fully packed toiletries bag complete with not only the necessities such as toothbrush and deodorant, but those little things that I have learnt along the way can really help you post-birth: mint tea bags in case she ends up having a C-section (mint tea is great for relieving trapped wind pain that accompanies abdominal surgery), earplugs to dull out the noise of a busy hospital ward and aromatherapy pillow spray to disguise the chemical hospital smell that Ivy admitted sent her into spasms of panic.
‘And you’re going to need this.’ I hand Ivy the small grey donkey toy, which she had proudly shown me a few weeks ago, insisting it was going to be the baby’s new best friend and first ever teddy.
I always tell my mummies to take the first toy with them into the hospital. That way, you can take that first photo of your baby with the toy next to them and then years later, when they are pulling the toy around by its ears and it’s covered in dirt and its hair has rubbed off due to so many cuddles, you can show your child how small they once were, lying next to it.
Ivy draws a hand across under her eye and pulls me into a hug. ‘I couldn’t have done this without you.’
/> Embarrassing things every pregnant person worries about (but rarely admits) and how to deal with them
1. Stretch marks – There’s no denying when you are pregnant you are likely to get some of these silvery lines across your belly and/or hips. Nine out of ten women get them because the elastin in the skin stretches as you gain weight.
Mummy Concierge hack: Invest in some stretch mark cream the second you get the positive on the pregnancy test and apply every morning and evening.
2. Farting – The hormone progesterone is your baby’s best friend but can lead to embarrassing problems for you. Lots of women admit to farting a lot more during pregnancy and this can be something that causes a great deal of stress.
Mummy Concierge hack: Wear loose clothing (hello, pregnancy jeans!) and keep a food diary to identify triggers.
3. Itchy nipples – Pregnancy usually equals a bigger set of boobs but because breasts become engorged, they can itch too.
Mummy Concierge hack: Breasts will grow throughout pregnancy so it’s easy to end up with a badly fitting bra, which can lead to rubbing and itching, so make sure you get regular bra fittings to help.
4. Leaky bladder – Another one of those pregnancy nightmares is that a simple sneeze or cough can lead to an unexpected leak.
Mummy Concierge hack: Practise working your pelvic floor every time you brush your teeth or when there’s an advert break on TV. How? Pull up on the correct muscles (the ones you switch on to avoid passing wind in public!).
5. Haemorrhoids – Swollen, itchy or bleeding veins around the rectum occur because the veins are more relaxed.
Mummy Concierge hack: They should go away once baby arrives but in the interim, eat high-fibre foods, drink lots of water and avoid standing for long periods.
Secrets of the Mummy Concierge Page 8
