The Yummy Mummy’s Survival Guide

Survival Tips

Lie. If you are not ready to tell anyone yet, then you will need to have some fantastic ‘Oh, yeah, I was at another amazing party last night’ stories lined up if you are to explain why the bags under your eyes are bigger than the ones you come back carrying after an extended lunch-break, and why you are suddenly falling asleep at your desk several times before morning coffee (which you are suddenly not drinking…)

Don’t fight it. This is not the kind of tiredness that can be outdone by regular double-espressos. During pregnancy, your body is very good at letting you know what’s needed, and the intensity of tiredness in the early stages can only mean that you should get as much sleep as possible. I went to sleep well before anything decent was on telly for the whole of this miserable period, and it was a very wise move, if very boring. Maybe Nature is just preparing you for the decades of sleepless nights to come…

Indulge in some pampering. Falling asleep because you’re tired is one thing, but dozing off because you are so relaxed that your legs can’t move any more is quite another. Treat yourself, and these weeks will glide by in an aromatherapeutic haze. Ahhhhhhh.

Take some exercise. Not only is this a stage when you still can, but it’s also a good way of feeling energised, looking better as the blood gets into your grey cheeks at last, and forgetting how rough you may be feeling. Don’t do anything super-strenuous or new: your body is a bit confused, so stick to what it can already handle.

Remind yourself daily that it won’t last long. This early tiredness usually passes within a month or so, so get the rest you need, and look forward to better times around the corner.

Breaking the News

1. To the father (who I shall assume is also your partner)

This is the fun part. As the holder of some earth-shattering news, you are in a position of considerable power. So what do you do? Tell him straight away? Over the phone? After work? By text? (Never by text. It’s absolutely not the done thing).

I developed my own little routine for breaking my exciting news: I kept it to myself all day, while the enormity of it sank in, and I then took my husband to a bar after work, ordered him a double whiskey and myself a gin and tonic, and told him straight out. The first time he was surprised and delighted, the second time he looked less surprised but equally delighted, and when it came to announcement number three, in the very same bar, he just asked me when it was due before the drinks had arrived. Spoilsport.

2. To your parents

This is a lot less fun, or at least it was for me, and I’ve heard similar stories of disappointment from other friends. Telling your parents you are expecting should be a perfect, bonding, happy-families kind of moment, where time slows down, everything goes a little out of focus and somebody starts to play the harp. In reality, breaking the news to the future grandparents can leave you feeling somewhat short-changed.

I’ve heard of responses ranging from ‘Oh at last. We were beginning to wonder’, to ‘Already! But it’s only been three years’, and even the astounding, but absolutely true, ‘Are you very sure? Hold on, I have to drain the potatoes. Can I call you back after dinner?’

No doubt your own parents and in-laws will be as beside themselves with excitement as you are, but it’s good to be prepared for a less-than-ideal reaction. Perhaps the idea of becoming grandparents is too much to take in, and they just say whatever pops into their heads first. Or perhaps they really are that tactless.

3. To your friends

Oooooh, lots and lots of fun. Friends are so great at this kind of thing because, being friends, they know exactly what they should say to make you feel fantastic, and they deliver every time. This kind of news is usually cause for a party and lots of gorgeous presents, so pick a time when your diary is looking free.

When Should We Tell?

Because the first few months of pregnancy can be a bit risky, and miscarriages are most common within the first twelve weeks, you might want to try and hold off breaking the news until you have passed this milestone. Another advantage of holding off as long as possible is that friends don’t get bored of the whole thing by the time you’re only halfway there. Nine months is a heck of a long time for someone to be excited about something which only affects them at a distance. Waiting until you first start to show (usually at around four months) means that before they know it you’re into the final stage and ready to go. Much more exciting.

That said, if you tell your friends and family the moment you know, they will be able to help you through this difficult, vomitty, sore-boobs, random-tears stage, and if things do go sadly wrong after all that, as they do sometimes, you will have a lot of much-needed support.

Work: Mum’s the Word? When to Tell, What to Expect

How you play your cards when it comes to spilling the beans to your employer is up to you. Maybe you have a fantastic relationship with them, and they are super family-friendly, in which case you’ll probably walk away with a bunch of flowers and your first pair of baby booties. If, on the other hand, you are instrumental in a huge company buyout, which is due to complete three weeks before your due date, then you should expect less jubilation.

I had one bad experience of this, which happened during the final round of auditions for a career-making presenting job. I was newly pregnant for the second time, and I decided that the honourable thing to do was to let them know, because Saturday morning kids’ TV wasn’t, and still isn’t, exactly awash with pregnant presenters. When I didn’t get the job I spent the next few months fuming at the injustice, and quite convinced that I missed out because of my expanding waistline. (I now realise it was because I was rubbish, but it was hard to see that at the time!)

Once bitten, twice very devious, and the next time I was in a similar position I decided to keep schtum. I still didn’t get the gig, but at least this time I knew it was because I wasn’t right for the job, and not because I was gestating. There are, however, some legal and practical guidelines to be aware of:

You cannot be dismissed (sacked, fired, booted out, shown the door) for being pregnant.

To qualify for statutory maternity pay you must tell your employer that you are pregnant by the fifteenth week before you are due, and tell them when you intend to take your maternity leave.

You don’t have to tell your boss that you are pregnant (but he or she will probably notice eventually).

You can take time off for antenatal appointments and classes without missing out on any pay…

You don’t have to tell a potential employer at a job interview, and if you do, they can’t discriminate against you. (Even though they probably will, but will claim it’s because you are overqualified, underqualified, or some other nonsense like that.)

The details of your maternity rights are far too dull for this beautiful book, but if you want all the useful facts then go to www.tiger.gov.uk.

Olivia, mother of Clemmie, eight months

I had to take a bunch of journalists on a flight to Scotland at nine weeks pregnant, and I couldn’t let on that I felt like throwing up the whole time. I had to concentrate so hard on overcoming the constant feeling of nausea, and I sucked Murray Mints the entire day. Twelve hours later, after I’d dispensed with the press packs and waved everyone a jolly goodbye, I dashed back to the car and immediately threw up.

Hello Boys! Some Physical Changes You (and Others) Might Notice

The starting gun will still be smoking when your body starts to change all over the place, and the rate at which this happens can be alarming. One of the good side-effects of pregnancy is that your breasts get bigger: even if you have practically no breasts at all you will develop something worthy of a decent ‘Phwoooaaar!’ if you happen to pass a building site. This is just one of the changes you’ll notice within weeks of fertilisation, along with the following:

Your boobs become tender and harder (oh great) before getting noticeably bigger (great!).

The skin around your nipples gets darker (this part is called the areola, if you really want to know).

You might get light-headed easily.

It gets harder to pull your abdomen in successfully and pretend you have a washboard stomach: it’s like having permanently bad premenstrual fluid retention, except this time it doesn’t go away—it just gets worse.

You have trouble sleeping, despite being exhausted.

You start having very complicated, frantic dreams, in which you already have a baby but you keep doing all sorts of dreadful things to it, such as dropping it off the top floor of Selfridges, leaving it at a bus stop, forgetting you put it in the bath while you went out for a meal, only to find…well, it’s not pretty, but it’s just a normal reaction to your huge news.

You might start to feel sick, or even be sick (see Morning Sickness below).

Morning Sickness: If Only it Were That Simple…

What a misnomer! Firstly, as millions of women every year discover, it does not only occur in the morning, and secondly, it does not always involve being sick. The (presumably male) genius who came up with the term ‘morning sickness’ should have spent a month or two in our house during the first trimester of my pregnancies, and then maybe we’d have had something more realistic to work with: 24-Hour Nausea, Early Evening Retch, or Twelve-Week Hell, for example.

From what I’ve read, this ‘feeling really sick’, which you are very likely to experience to some degree in the first few months, seems to have something to do with hormones, as usual, and the reasons it seems worse in the morning are, apparently:

The levels of these wretched hormones are higher in the morning.

Your stomach is empty, so you feel sicker.

It’s Nature’s clever way of saying ‘Put that third pain au chocolat down! You’re about to start expanding wildly, so just suck on a lemon drop instead.’

I suffered from evening sickness, which confounds all these theories. I was fine all day until about three or four in the afternoon, and from then on it was just a case of surviving until my husband came back from work (he had to negotiate shorter hours just to get me through those weeks). I would immediately collapse into bed and try to fall asleep, just so that I could forget how awful I was feeling. Oh, happy days.

The other misleading thing about ‘morning sickness’ is that it sounds as though you are actually going to be sick. If only. In fact, one of the things I found hardest to bear was that I wasn’t sick. Ever. I always felt that if I could only be sick, I would somehow feel relieved and better, but I never was. It was just hour after hour of feeling sick, like terrible sea-sickness, except that, being pregnant, I didn’t want to take any anti-sickness tablets, because of the potential health risks. I even made myself sick a couple of times, just to get some relief, and although I did feel better for a while afterwards, it wasn’t for long and it’s probably not a very good idea.

Common Concerns

I’m just being pathetic

No you’re not. Feeling nauseous and being sick for week after week is physically and mentally crippling, and for many of my friends it was the worst part of the whole pregnancy. For some it was even worse than the actual birth part, so don’t ever kid yourself that you should just pull your socks up and stop being such a whinger: you’re pregnant, so whinge away! Anyone who hasn’t eaten properly for six weeks, feels as though they are on the high seas with Ellen MacArthur, and is trying to come to terms with the mind-blowing fact that there’s a human being growing inside her is entitled, and absolutely bound, to feel well below par and to want some sympathy. Morning sickness is not just a mildly unpleasant inconvenience—it can be almost unbearable, so give yourself a break and spend some extra time trying to look after yourself.

I’m not eating enough because I feel so sick. Is it bad for the baby?

Miraculously, if you are managing to eat and drink anything at all, your baby will carry on as if nothing is wrong. That’s where your reserves come in handy: the baby takes all the nutrients it needs from what you have stored up over the last few years, and it can survive very well off those while you walk around like a nauseous zombie for a few months. But if you can’t keep any food or liquid down then you must get medical help. There is a condition called Hyperemesis Gravidarum which causes this sort of complete food rejection, and you can get more information at www.hyperemesis.org. A small number of women end up in hospital for a while if the sickness gets really bad, so keep an eye on things.

So what can I do to make it better?

Short of spending a night (or several) with Gael Garcia Bernal or receiving a lifetime’s supply of Crème de la Mer products, I really have no idea, because there are as many supposed remedies for the condition as there are positions for getting yourself knocked up in the first place. As that is so obviously not the answer you were after, here are some suggestions from myYummy Mummy friends which are all supposed to help:

Eat more ginger—crystallised, or in tea or capsules—or slowly nibble ginger biscuits.

Eat small amounts regularly, so your stomach never becomes empty.

Sip water frequently.

Get more sleep and rest.

Cut out coffee and alcohol.

Only turn left, except on Wednesdays when there is a full moon (no, not that one).

Smell fresh mint.

Get as much fresh air as possible.

Press your pressure points: 11/2 inches from your wrist on the underneath of your forearm, in the centre. Try it—it just might work!

Take extra vitamin B6, or eat more nuts, bananas, avocados and whole grains, which contain it.

Try yeasty foods, such as Marmite, bagels, dry fruits and beer (sparingly!).

Eat more iron-rich foods, such as beef, sardines, eggs and leafy greens.

I tried all of these to almost no avail. The things which made me feel a little better were brushing my teeth about fifteen times a day, smelling fresh coffee and drinking diet lemonade.

Sonia, mother of Freya, two, and Louis, eight months

It sounds mad, but I had to drink a can of ice-cold Coke the minute I woke up, and I was absolutely fine all day after that. After about eight weeks all the symptoms disappeared, but I still have my morning fix!

I’ve recently discovered all kinds of ‘natural’ remedies available on the Web, which all have glowing reports from absolutely-not-nauseous at-all-any-more mothers. These include naturally coloured lollipops, glamorously named ‘Preggy Pops’ (wouldn’t you just love to have sat in on that meeting?), wristbands that apply pressure to your wrists and apparently relieve nausea that way, and even specially compiled recordings of soothing sea noises for pregnant ears. This last idea seems somewhat insulting to our intelligence: pregnancy may leave you a bit befuddled for a while, but surely it doesn’t render you gullible enough to shell out a tenner for some whale songs and wave noises in the belief that they will ease the queasiness? I suppose if the nausea gets completely unbearable then you will probably be ready to try almost anything. Even whale songs will seem worth a try. Do not, however, take any anti-sickness pills without asking your doctor. There are many available, and not all are suitable during pregnancy.

One final thing you should be prepared for, as I wasn’t the first time, is that it doesn’t last for 12 weeks and then stop. Or, at least, it might, but it almost certainly won’t. Everyone I have talked to has had a different experience. Things always settled down for me at around this time, but for every textbook case there’s one lucky lady who never gets sick at all, and another one who throws up three times a day for nine months. C’est la vie!

Oh, and it does tend to get a little bit worse with multiple babies and with each successive pregnancy, so count yourself lucky you’re not on baby number six yet!

More Worries

More? How much can one woman worry about?

I’m afraid sections dealing with worries, concerns, fears and feelings of utter doom and gloom will crop up time and time again throughout this book. This is not because I am the world’s greatest pessimist, or because I am trying to wind you up into a panic, but because you will experience many of these worries over the course of becoming a Yummy Mummy, and I couldn’t possibly fit them all into one part. Anyway, if I did manage, you would take one look at it and run to the nearest department store for some cosmetics or footwear-related escapism, never to emerge. Fun, but very expensive, and anyway, denial is not very helpful at all, no matter how high its heels are. Better to tackle the issues head-on, and be prepared.

Most of my worries in the early months of my pregnancies focused on all the evils I had done to my body in the past, rather than what awaited it in the immediate future. Could a baby grow inside a body which was previously best known for its pint-downing ability? What about that magic mushroom I was offered in Indonesia ten years ago? Maybe just being in the same tent had an effect on my brain, which would surely be passed on. And what about the genes from the rest of my unsuitable family? Mum used to smoke, my dad’s great-great-great-grandmother had a heart attack, my husband used to live next to an asbestos factory, there’s a phone mast at the end of our road, and I don’t drink green tea. Oh God, oh God! This baby is doomed to grow into a hallucinating piss-head, with heart trouble and a carcinogen-filled brain. What have I done? As far as I can make out from other Yummy Mummies, this sort of irrational panicking is perfectly normal.

Heather, mother of Alex, three, and Katie, six months

We went to a wedding when I was eight weeks pregnant, although I didn’t know at the time. I got hammered, and I put all the throwing up down to the ten glasses of champagne I had quaffed during the reception. When it turned out I was pregnant, I was convinced my baby would be a pickled onion rather than the healthy child she was. It was worrying, though.

Cheering Yourself Up

If you are feeling worried and scared about what is happening to you, and about the whole ‘becoming a parent’ thing, then read this bit as many times as you need to over the next nine months:

Becoming a mother is the best thing you will ever do. (Read that bit again a few more times now, if you like.)

Becoming a mother changes the way you feel about everything, and if you are not sure about it now, you will be absolutely sure about it, and know you have done the right thing, when the baby comes. You will manage just fine.

You will get your figure back, and you will look wonderful and sexy again.

Being a Yummy Mummy does not mean you change who you are, and you will still be able to go out, have a job, go shopping, travel and see your friends. A little less than before, but you can still do it.