Dear New Mum

Dear New Mum,

Darling, darling girl. Will you just chill the fuck out!

You’ve just had major surgery/pushed a watermelon out-a ya vag (delete as appropriate) so why on earth do you a) feel it’s necessary to invite everyone and their dog round and b) put more make-up on than when you were a bridesmaid that one time? Trust me, unless they’re your own, (and frankly, even then) newborns are boring blobs; your friends can wait at least 2 weeks before awkwardly commenting ‘am I holding them right’!? Hunker down; relax; and recover!

Dear new mum, breastfeeding is hard. Yes your mate-round-the-corner’s baby latched straight away and she was jogging with baby-on-breast before the week was out. She’s the exception babe, not the norm! Of the seven mothers in my NCT group, none of us found it easy. Forewarned of bleeding nips I’m not sure anyone really opens up about the relentless nature of it all. From one person who likes to run through life at 100-miles-an-hour to another, you’ve got to slow down sweety. Maybe you won’t shower today, maybe the kitchen’s a bit of a mess, maybe you’ll have Charlie Bighams for dinner every night this week and watch 10 episodes of ‘This is Us’ back to back. Guess what? That’s okay! because have you ever heard any mother say ‘god I wish I’d tidied up a bit more when little Freddie was tiny’!?

Dear new mum, I’ve yet to hear of any death-by-tap-water incidents here in the UK.

Dear new mum, a wine a day is essential. A (large) glass of red/white/pink (delete as appropriate) will not cure sleep deprivation/poonami’s or your husband seriously getting on your tits but it will significantly reduce the chance of you giving a shit. It’s medicinal, best administered from 3pm onwards.

Dear new mum, if you can afford such luxuries go on holiday before BOJ (bundle of joy) reaches 6 months. As soon as they start rolling over, or worse crawling, I’d question if you can call it a holiday at all.

Dear new mum, you let a complete stranger stare your noon right in the eye; at least six women have prodded and poked your nipples, and it’s likely at least one relative has witnessed a full-blown meltdown. I think it’s fair to say when it comes to bringing a child into the world dignity rarely gets the memo; so why oh why are you clinging on to that pride for dear life!? Accept help, people want to give it, they enjoy it. Let them. It takes a village!

Dear new mum, you will sleep again and with that your sanity will slip (slowly) back into place.

Until then;

Dear new mum, you’re doing a great job.

Oh, and…

Dear new mum, You’ve got this!


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