From Mum With Love Read online

  No, I wasn’t ready for you, Bella – and it took a few days to truly believe you were mine. You were little and kind of yellow and they didn’t want us to go home straight away. So I lay in that hospital bed for a few days, feeling shell-shocked, nauseous, and delirious with tiredness, as family and friends stood above my bed cooing, smiling and handing me envelopes marked ‘Baby Girl’ because we still couldn’t think of a name.

  My bump had disappeared before I even had a chance to take a last picture – and in its place, lay an empty, jelly-like paunch. I remember touching it occasionally and feeling revolted. And I remember that when you latched onto my nipple in the early days, which sent pain searing through my body, that jelly-like paunch suddenly decided to join in the pain party too, cramping so tightly that I yelled out, ‘WHERE’S THE BLOODY GAS NOW?’ to a midwife who stood by the bed with her hands on one of my tits.

  And then there were the bodily fluids. Nobody tells you about that at your baby shower, do they? Nobody tells you that you’ll need to wear nappies, or that your nipples will dribble down your stomach when you take off your bra to climb into the shower, or that you’ll wake up in the night drenched head to toe in sweat, wondering if you’ve somehow caught a tropical disease. Nobody tells you any of that. And it was a shock.

  Oh, Bella; it wasn’t easy. But we made it. Two days after you screamed so angrily when you were first plonked on my chest, we were on our way home in Grandad’s Volvo (and this time, he drove at about five miles per hour).

  No, I wasn’t ready for you, Bella – but suddenly you were mine.

  And life was never going to be the same again.

  Love from Mummy x

  *

  Chris was late home. Jessica had been picking up her phone every few minutes to check for messages, getting more and more irritated by his lateness. He’d missed Bella’s bedtime by a long way – and having promised to pick up a takeaway for dinner on his return, her tummy was growling in solidarity too.

  She wished she could be more relaxed about the nights he was late home from work, but she found it hard. Knowing that he would be walking through the door close to Bella’s bedtime kept her going on even the hardest afternoons – and that afternoon had been particularly hard. Bella had woken up from her nap after only twenty-three minutes and had taken over an hour to stop screaming with tiredness. When she finally came around from her groggy anger, Jessica had found the hours, the minutes, and the seconds dragging past depressingly slowly. It didn’t help that it was throwing it down with rain outside. She really didn’t have the energy to waterproof Bella from head to toe (or herself, for that matter). So, when a message pinged through from Chris that said he wasn’t going to make it home for Bella’s bedtime, she felt like throwing the phone across the room.

  She hadn’t expected to turn into that wife – but here she was, only a couple of years into marriage, filled with rage that her husband was late home from work. Especially when she had half-expected him to come swinging through the door with a bottle of champagne at lunchtime when she’d shared the news of her amazing new blog following – after all, he’d encouraged her to start this blog from the beginning! A half-hearted: ‘That’s great honey! Sorry, will be late tonight. I’ll get dinner on my way’ was not only frustrating on the parenting front, but massively underwhelming on the husband front, too.

  But there was no point wasting precious childfree time brooding – so once she had got Bella to sleep and successfully commando crawled out of the bedroom, she had made herself comfortable on the sofa, pulled a blanket over her knees, and opened her laptop. Clicking straight through to social media to check on the latest stats, she couldn’t resist re-reading the comments underneath that morning’s post.

  Laura Cunningham: I’ve just discovered your blog and you have another follower! I can’t wait to read the next one!

  Louise Henry: I found out I was pregnant on my wedding day too! We should start a club! Great post. Looking forward to more

  Elena Smith: I never usually read blogs, let alone comment on them – but your post really resonated with me. Thank you for writing it.

  Georgina Wright-Cooper: I love this. In fact, you just made me cry. Finding out I was pregnant with my little boy was one of the best days of my life and you took me straight back!

  Coming to the end, she replied to each reader to thank them for taking the time to comment (she didn’t know if that was blogging etiquette, but it seemed the polite thing to do). In all the time she’d spent wondering whether anybody would actually read her blog, it hadn’t occurred to her that they may comment too. And if she was honest, it gave her a buzz to read them.

  When she was done with social media, she moved onto finding a photograph to illustrate her next letter. Enjoying the excuse to scroll through pictures of the night Bella was born, she quickly settled on a photo taken just minutes after she had been handed to her by the midwife. Jessica was lying in her hospital bed, with a tiny Bella curled sleepily on her chest.

  Before she saved it to her desktop and uploaded it to the post, Jessica paused for a moment to study the photograph. Her hair was stuck to her face, her skin was blushed red, and her hospital gown was less than flattering – but her smile and tear-filled eyes said it all. It seemed such a long time ago that she had been in that hospital bed, studying those tiny fingers and breathing in that milky-sweet newborn scent.

  Deep in thought, she jumped when the front door banged open and Chris appeared with a soggy paper bag stashed under his arm, drenched from the rain. It was 8.27 p.m. and despite wishing she had the strength to grit her teeth and smile, she just couldn’t hide her anger.

  ‘Finally!’ she blurted out, shutting her laptop with a snap.

  ‘Sorry, honey,’ he said, walking towards her to kiss her.

  But as he leant down, Jessica turned her head. ‘Oh, fuck off, Chris – as if I want to kiss you!’

  He looked stunned. ‘What’s wrong? Jesus, what have I done now?’

  ‘It’s 8.30 p.m. Chris, and I’m starving,’ Jessica replied. Even as the words came out of her mouth, she knew they sounded ridiculous, but she couldn’t stop herself. She was too angry. ‘Don’t offer to get a takeaway if you can’t manage to get home at a decent hour. I could have cooked a bloody full roast dinner by now if I’d known! Seriously, why can’t you ever get back in time to see Bella? What is your problem?’

  Chris sighed. ‘You want to do this now?’

  ‘Yes, I want to do this now!’ Jessica spat back at him in a loud whisper, desperate to scream, but equally desperate not to wake up her daughter. ‘I’m sick of it! I’m sick of putting Bella to bed without a cuddle from her daddy! I’m sick of waiting on this sofa for you! I’m sick of the messages telling me you’re going to be late again! I’m sick of the excuses!’

  ‘You’re sick of it?’ Chris shook his head. ‘What about me, Jess? Do you ever think about me? Do you ever wonder what it feels like to rush home to see my daughter and miss her by a matter of minutes? Do you know what that feels like to go days without seeing her? It’s shit! Do you think I care less about her, because I have to go out and work every day? Do you not think I’m jealous of the time you two get together?’

  Jessica flinched, but refused to look away.

  ‘I can’t win, can I? If I try to get home early, I end up waking her up. If I stay a bit late at work because my boss emails me at 5 p.m. and tells me he needs to chat over a pint, I am in trouble too. What am I supposed to do, Jess? Tell me! What the fuck am I supposed to do?’

  ‘You had a pint?’ she asked, shaking her head in disbelief.

  ‘That’s the only thing you pick up on?’ Chris asked, still looking straight at her. ‘Why does it always have to be about you, Jess? It’s always about you!’

  ‘Well, funnily enough, Chris,’ Jessica said, grabbing the takeaway bag from under his arm and taking a step towards the kitchen, ‘it mainly is about me, yes. Because I’m the one that’s sleep deprived, I’m the one that’s runnin
g around after a toddler all day, I’m the one that’s feeding her, and bathing her, and entertaining her! I’m the one that never gets to go for a drink after work any more! So yes Chris, it is always about me! And that is the problem! I’m exhausted!’

  ‘SO AM I!’ Chris shouted back, so loudly that they both turned to look at the baby monitor. And when the hum of the white noise continued undisturbed, he added quietly: ‘I’m exhausted too, Jess! Please start realising that!’

  He sighed and turned towards the stairs to change out of his wet clothes. As Jessica unpacked containers from the soggy brown bag onto the work surface in the kitchen, tears pooled in her eyes.

  *

  The next morning, the rain had finally cleared, and as Jessica opened the doors to the garden, she paused for a moment to feel the sunshine on her skin. She didn’t want to be stuck inside all day, so hastily sent a message to her sister to ask her to meet at Greenwich Park, rather than head to her house as planned. Fran typed back within seconds:

  No probs, 10 a.m.? Usual place?

  Jessica quickly replied:

  Perfect, see you there.

  She stashed a picnic blanket under her buggy, did a quick mental checklist that she had everything she needed in her bag (nearly forgetting a spare nappy, which could have seriously challenged her mothering skills later on that morning), and was out of the door ahead of schedule.

  Jessica couldn’t help feeling cheerful as she strolled down their street. With her feet in her favourite flip-flops, the sound of birdsong in the trees, and sunlight dappling the pavements, she felt far happier and more optimistic than she had the night before.

  It was the kind of weather where she knew she would be constantly pulling Bella’s cardigan on and off as the sun weaved in and out the clouds, so she had thrown several spare layers under the buggy to keep them both warm. She had a thermos of coffee in her bag to drink as she chatted to her sister. She’d even remembered Bella’s doll pram for her to push down the paths, which she’d collapsed and stashed under the big one. And, after a brisk fifteen-minute walk in the sunshine, she walked through the heavy wrought iron gates of the park a full five minutes ahead of schedule. She wasn’t going to lie; she felt like Super Mum.

  The park was busy for a Wednesday morning. Tourists milled around, pointing up at the Greenwich Observatory above them and then walking like a line of ants in single file up the hill to reach it. Students played frisbee on the lawn, yelling to each other as it flew through the air and they lunged to catch it. Dogs bounded off their leads after balls, then returned to their owners with tails wagging and tongues lolling. Passenger planes glided silently through the clouds above their heads on their way in and out of London.

  Jessica always found the energy of the park a tonic for the mind. In fact, this park had been a place of solace in the early days of being a mother. Long before the days of making mummy friends, she had often felt so lonely and isolated at home – but as soon as she stepped through the gates of this bustling part of South East London, she felt like herself again. She would climb the path to the top of the hill until Bella dropped off into a content sleep, then sit on a bench and sip a thermos of coffee as she watched life carry on below her. She always left that park feeling more buoyant, reassured that the world hadn’t stopped turning on the day she’d given birth.

  Jessica usually met her sister by the big gates on the south side of the park, as Fran liked to grab a coffee in her favourite café before she met them. Bella was happy in her buggy for the moment, but Jessica knew she had very little time before she would be struggling to escape, so she had her fingers firmly crossed that her auntie would arrive on time for once. As they strolled down the path, past the pale grey façade of the Naval College on her right and the park on her left, she quickly realised her luck was in as she spotted her sister leaning against the gate drinking her coffee.

  Fran was wearing her usual skinny jeans, black leather jacket, and pretty gold sandals. At forty-one, she was slim and stylish and easily looked fifteen years younger.

  But as soon as she spotted Fran, Jessica noticed her sister wasn’t alone. Her parents were beside her, deep in conversation as they gesticulated at a tree in the distance. ‘Oh, bloody hell, they’re all here today,’ she muttered under her breath, just as Bella clocked her family ahead of her and squealed in appreciation.

  Whilst Jessica loved her parents dearly, she couldn’t help feeling disappointed they’d decided to gatecrash. Fran found it hard to talk openly when her parents were in earshot and Jessica had been looking forward to a good catch-up as they watched Bella play.

  It wasn’t long before a shrieking Bella had alerted everyone within a ten-mile radius that they were approaching and right on cue, the three family members at the gate turned in their direction. Her parents smiled widely as they strode towards their grandaughter, giving Fran the opportunity to silently mouth ‘Sorry!’ as she gestured to her parents behind their backs with laughing eyes. As they met, she pulled Jessica into a big hug and whispered in her ear: ‘They insisted on coming. Sorry! It’s the blog – be warned! They’re obsessed!’

  ‘Here she is!’ her mother said loudly, standing up and beaming at Jessica broadly. ‘Our family blogger!’ Jessica could feel herself blushing, as her mother glanced around to see if anyone was listening (which no doubt she was hoping was the case). A couple of Japanese tourists shuffled in their shoes uncomfortably as they felt her eyes on them, but the coast was otherwise clear.

  ‘Hi Mum,’ Jess replied. ‘No need to make a fuss. It’s just a little blog!’

  ‘A little blog!’ her mother bellowed back proudly. ‘I don’t think so darling! You have hundreds of followers! That’s not little darling! You are a superstar!’

  Her dad, generally quieter than his larger-than-life wife but equally enthusiastic, stood alongside her, smiling in agreement. ‘Come here,’ he said as he hugged her. ‘We’re very proud, Jessica! Very proud indeed!’

  Embarrassed, Jessica diverted attention back to her daughter by bending down to unclip and release her from the buggy. Bella toddled down the path with impressive speed, with Granny chasing her closely behind. And as Grandad strode off after them, Jessica finally had the time to turn to her sister.

  ‘How are you, Franny?’ Jessica asked, searching Fran’s face for clues.

  ‘Oh, you know…’ Fran said, looking down at her coffee in its black quilted takeaway cup. ‘Life is a bit shit, but I’m OK. Don’t need to worry about me.’

  Jessica sighed. She reached into her bag for her thermos, unscrewed the lid, and took her first sip. The coffee was still scorching hot and shocked her throat as it slid down, but she felt comforted by a moment of distraction.

  ‘Of course, I am going to worry about you,’ she replied. ‘I always worry about you!’

  Fran turned to her sister and smiled, linking arms as they strode along the path. They walked silently for a few minutes, before it became obvious that Bella was giving her grandparents the run around. Jessica stopped and reached down to grab her little buggy, opening it with a quick flick of the wrist. She ran it over to her parents, calling her daughter’s name to try and distract her from another escape attempt.

  The sun had disappeared completely now, and as Jessica walked back to her sister, she noticed her teeth were chattering. She needs to eat more, she thought to herself, making a mental note to cook a casserole that evening and get Chris to drop it round to her parents.

  ‘Do you want to chat about Cornwall?’ Jessica asked, turning to look at her sister.

  Fran exhaled loudly. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘You don’t have to talk about it if you aren’t ready, Franny,’ Jess said, turning back to watch their dad chasing Bella across the grass.

  ‘It was horrible. I mean, fucking horrible,’ Fran replied, staring ahead. ‘But I’m pleased I didn’t take Freddie with me. He would’ve hated it. It was much better for him to stay at home with his grandparents.’

  ‘I thi
nk you’re right,’ Jessica replied. ‘He was worried about you though. We hung out a lot that week. We looked after him, don’t worry.’

  ‘He was probably even more worried about me when I got back and didn’t get out of bed for a week. Shit. I feel like a terrible mother,’ Fran said, taking a sip of her coffee and turning to smile sadly at her sister.

  ‘He knows how strong you are! And you’ve got each other! You’ll both be OK,’ Jessica said, putting her arm around her sister.

  ‘We’ve got no bloody choice, have we?’ Fran replied, resting her head on Jessica’s shoulder.

  And for a while, they stayed like that. Watching Bella running, their parents laughing loudly as they chased her on the grass, and tourists dodging around them as they walked on the path. As the sun reappeared, warming them up for a moment, Fran sighed and sat up straight, ready to take on the world again.

  ‘So, tell me about your blog, Jessy,’ Fran said, squinting at her sister.

  ‘Oh no, don’t be silly, we don’t have to talk about that!’ Jessica replied.

  ‘I want to talk about that Jess!’

  ‘Well, what do you want to know? I’ve been writing letters to Bella since she was born – in that notebook you bought me before we got married actually – and starting a blog seemed like the perfect way to share them with other people. Chris thought it was a good idea too, so it was decided.’

  ‘I had a feeling you’d do something amazing with that notebook,’ Fran replied, smiling. ‘How’s it going at home? Is he getting home any earlier?’