Are you ready to have a baby? Have you bought enough stuff yet? New mum? New consumer! There’s so much baby stuff out there to sell you. It could theoretically be useful – it was all invented for a reason – but how much do you actually need right now? Unlike all the pregnancy magazines you read and all the websites you visit, I’m not going to make money out of flogging you baby goods. So let’s strip back the marketing speak and isolate the actual essentials. Somewhere for the baby to sleep. It’s normal in our culture to shell out for a cot with all the trimmings, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to. If you don’t smoke and you breastfeed, you can share a bed with your baby. If you do smoke or don’t breastfeed, your baby is safer in a crib or moses basket. You don’t have to buy one. If no one has one spare, you could use a drawer or a cardboard box on the floor by your bed. Seriously! The Finnish government issue all new parents with boxes that their babies can sleep in. Fold up a blanket and cover it with a sheet to line the base. You don’t need a separate bedroom for your baby. The risk of cot death is reduced if they sleep near you, day or night. This means you won’t need a baby monitor yet, either. Money spent so far: big fat zero. Some things to keep the baby warm. Baby clothes will be useful: You’ll probably be given far more clothes than this by enthusiastic friends with older babies, and overexcited relatives. Before I had bought any clothes for my daughter at all, I had 41 pairs of trousers in newborn size. Feeling this was a little excessive, I whittled it down to 26. Failing that, charity shops sell perfectly serviceable baby clothes for 50p. Even if you find it unacceptable to dress your child in second-hand clothes and you’d rather get new ones made in a Bangladeshi sweat shop, you can buy everything you need from a supermarket for less than 40 quid. You need a couple of baby blankets. My local haberdashery shop sells a metre of fleece fabric for £4. Sorted. No sewing skills required, just chop it off and wrap ’em up. Something to mop the baby up with. Technically, you don’t even need nappies. Google ‘elimination communication’ if you don’t believe me. I tried this for a while with my newborn and it was, er, interesting. I’m not sure we saved on washing, but it did give me some useful skills. Small babies tend to poo frequently, splotting little smudges on to lots of nappies in succession. If you hold your baby out over a potty or sink at nappy change time, you help those little bowels to work better, get all the poo done in one go, and save yourself a lot of effort. Assuming you want nappies – which I did in the end – your choice is washable or disposable. Two packets of newborn disposable nappies are easy to use and won’t break the bank. Having a brand new baby is so overwhelming that you don’t need lots of washing, so buy some for the early weeks. If you want to save money, in the long run washables work out cheaper, especially if you’re planning more than one child. They’re much better for the environment, particularly if you don’t tumble-dry them. Check out TotsBots Easy Fit All in Ones. They’re made in the UK, they line dry really quickly, and they’ll fit your baby from newborn to toddler. You can buy ten for £130 if you shop around. But we’re on a budget, so, for a totally no-frills cloth nappy package, buy four first-size nappy covers – I rate ‘Nature Babies’ wraps because they’re also made in the UK and come in funky colours – and then line them with folded IKEA 35p tea towels. (You’ll need around 30, because you double them up at night.) That’s all the nappies for your baby for less than 40 quid. Wash them in a full load on 60°C and line-dry them and they’ll cost you less than 50p a week. Get some calendula nappy cream for that soggy-nappied bot. Six quid. Any odd square of waterproof fabric will work as a change mat. You don’t need a baby bath. You can bathe with a new baby. It’s really nice (unless they poo). You don’t need baby wipes. They’re great for scrubbing down mucky toddlers, but unnecessary for delicate tiny baby bots. If you’re doing washables, use a cloth, and chuck it in with the nappies. With disposables, use cotton wool and water. Brand-new baby poo is black and sticky: smear a little olive oil on that bum to make it easier to clean. …and for the other end. You have to mop the top end too. Some babies are sicky after a feed. Invest in a packet of muslin squares: about seven pounds. Wash these and the nappies before use to increase their absorbency, and never use fabric softener on them. With donated baby clothes, we’re on £61 by now. Something for the baby to eat. Fortunately, you come ready-equipped with two convenient free food sources, right there in your bra. Unfortunately, connecting baby to breast is not always straightforward, particularly if you’ve never seen it done before and have no-one around to show you how. I recommend you buy a book on breastfeeding. Which one? Ooh, let me think… How about the one I wrote? The Food of Love: your formula for successful breastfeeding? Here’s a picture from it. However, since we’re on a total zero-spending trip, I should also mention that there are good free ‘how-to’ breastfeeding videos online. (My publishers are going to kill me! Where are the book sales in telling you that?) Maybe you don’t want to breastfeed. Perhaps your breasts are for your boyfriend, not your baby? I still think you could try it, not because it’s healthier, or because you ‘should’ or because ‘it’s best’. Try it because you might like it. It can be really nice. Just do it for three days and see what you think. If your boyfriend loves you and your baby, he won’t mind sharing your breasts for a while. Just packing your lunch. BOING!!! Something to carry the baby in. While you’re in the haberdashery shop, buy five metres of stretch cotton jersey (T-shirt fabric) that doesn’t have Lycra in it. Cut it down the middle lengthways. You now have two wrap-style baby slings: one to wash, one to wear. Enter ‘baby-wearing’ into YouTube and you’ll find videos showing you how to use them. If you have a car, you’ll need a car seat. Buy this new, because a second-hand seat could have been damaged in an accident. Once you’ve bought it, strap it into the car and leave it there. Learn from my experience, and do not try to fit it for the first time at two a.m. in a hospital car park, with a four-hour-old baby in it. Something to declaw the baby with. Tiny fingernails are scratchy! Get an emery board to file down those little talons. Three for 99p at the chemist. There. That’s baby care sorted for a little over a hundred quid. This book just paid for itself. Just packing your lunch. Some things to birth the baby with. While we’re in the mood for making lists, let’s itemise what you need for the birth. There are two lists here. Read both. If you’re planning a home birth, you could still choose to transfer quickly to hospital. And babies that are scheduled to be born in hospital sometimes arrive unexpectedly at home. Home birth: Two clean warm towels, the first to dry the baby and the other to cover mum and baby. If the heating’s on, keep them on the radiator. Tea and biscuits for the midwife. Very important. She has to have tea. Plastic to protect your furniture. Two cheap ‘value’ shower curtains, a big towel and an old sheet should have it covered. Biological washing powder to clean anything you missed with the plastic sheet. Bin bags for laundry. Hairbands if you have long hair. Mega monster maternity sanitary towels. A soft side light to give birth by. A bright side light or torch in case you decide to have some ‘embroidery’ afterwards. A bucket could be useful. An extra cardigan and fluffy socks. Optional things: Ice cubes to suck. A gym ball to rock on. A water spray to cool you down. A hot water bottle for pain relief. A sports bottle for drinking water. Aromatherapy electric oil diffuser: if the midwife needs to use oxygen cylinders, you can’t have candles. A hired water-birth pool, plus lots of towels. Hospital birth: Pack a bag with three babygros, three vests, ten nappies, a hat and a blanket for the baby. If it’s cold, add a fleecy oversuit for going home. Mega monster maternity sanitary towels. Comfy pants. If you have a Caesarean birth you need massive granny knickers. Two stretchy nursing bras. Toothbrush, hairbrush, travel-size toiletries, hairbands if you need them. Some T-shirts and leggings. These are more practical than nighties and easier to cuddle your baby skin-to-skin in. Wearing your own clothes helps you feel like yourself, not a patient. Fluffy socks and cardigan or dressing gown. Camera, phone, charger, money. Nothing else of value. Snacks. Hospital food is rank, and the portions are tiny. Don’t forget the car seat. Optional things (but remember, you have to lug them with you all around the hospital): A soft side light to give birth by. A water spray to cool you down. A hot water bottle for pain relief. A sports bottle for drinking water. Mp3 player. Aromatherapy electric oil diffuser and essential oils. A favourite pillow. Pack something to celebrate with! Cheers! That’s the practicalities sorted. Now for the emotional side. Recognising this is a sign that you’re as ready as you’ll ever be. None of us is ‘ready’ to have a baby. We’re all just winging it. This parenthood lark is entirely improvised. We make it all up as we go along. PICK YOUR OWN ADVENTURE MOMENT! There’s more than one way to birth a baby, in fact there are as many different birth stories as there are people that have ever lived. There’s more than one good way to birth a baby. We are so lucky to live in an age and a nation where life-saving surgical techniques are available for babies who need them. Are you about to avail yourself of them? YES! I’m having a Caesarean birth, and the reasons for doing so are rock-solid and crystal-clear. You can skip the next 98 pages of wittering about uncertain birthdays and learning to love labour. Go straight to the ‘Caesarean section’. Turn to page 284. Er, probably. A doctor has told me I have to have a Caesarean, but I don’t know how I feel about that. Read ‘Birth Rights’ on page 270, then come back and read the rest of the book. It will help you take control of your care. Probably not. I can’t think of an obvious reason to have major surgery, but we’ll see how it pans out in the end. Read on...
The Broke Mum's Budget Baby List
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Think of me like an agony aunt. Except we're not going to talk about agony. Whoops! We just did.
Will my lovely lady-parts tear?
It’s possible. There are things you can do that make it less likely. But it won’t matter.
What do you mean? OF COURSE it matters!
No, it really doesn’t. That’s how overwhelming it is having a baby. It makes something that would ordinarily matter a lot (really a lot) seem utterly insignificant.
Will I poo myself?
Maybe a tiny bit, but midwives are handy with a hygienic wipe. You’re actually meant to! There’s a reason for the anatomical proximity of anus and birth canal. Your intestines contain billions of good digestive bacteria, and when a tiny trace of poo gets mixed up in the birth process, your baby’s digestive system is primed with them. Babies born by caesarean miss out on the good bacteria they are meant to receive, their gut flora is different, and this could be why they are more prone to allergies and obesity.
Really, don’t worry about your body doing whatever your body needs to do. There was a point when I was in labour where I was sick over myself and peed myself simultaneously in a hospital car park. Ordinarily, I would feel a modicum of embarrassment about this, but its significance was eclipsed by the memory of giving birth to my daughter later that day.
So forget about a smudge of poo. If you can get through the birth of your child without simultaneously throwing up and wetting yourself, you’re doing better than me.
Will my partner still fancy me?
Yes. My experience is with men. Men fancy everything.
Will my fanny ever be the same again?
It will be better! It will still be the lovely sensitive flower that you have always enjoyed, but you can also be proud that it has done something useful.
Seriously?
Well, it might change shape a bit. Post-birth vaginas tend to be a little different to pre-birth ones, but neither sort is more beautiful or functional than the other.
Let’s apply the ‘what would it be like if men could do this’ test to genitalia and childbirth.Imagine if, when a man fathered his first child, his balls dropped a couple of inches. Would men be rushing off to plastic surgeons for uplift surgery? Hell no! They’d be boasting about it! They’d all be wearing MC Hammer trousers and claiming they could swing theirs into their socks.
OK, I’m not helping. Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to drop a couple of inches! But what’s important about your pleasure garden is not how it looks, but how it feels.
Will that be different after birth? Here’s a selection of quotes from an astonishingly frank internet chatroom:
“Way better. Way, way better.”
“It feels so incredibly good. The sensitivity has heightened.”
“I have more control over my vaginal muscles.”
“The best sex we had as a couple was trying for our second child.”
“A good lube will help.”
“I can’t recommend Kegels [pelvic floor exercises] highly enough.”
“Your body parts are elastic. Your free time after having a baby, not so much.”
And from their male partners:
“There has been no real change in terms of tightness or cosmetic appearance... [but] now when my wife as an orgasm it feels about ten times stronger than it used to.”
“My wife had a caesarean. Sex is somewhat different. She reports that certain positions are more pleasurable.”
“Forceps delivery with stitches, but sex now is not noticeably different. Just considerably less of it.”
The consensus here seems to be that your lady parts are likely to recover just fine from the rigours of childbirth. The passion-killing part of having a baby is having to look after a baby. All the time. Still, what you miss out on in sex, you make up for in love and cuddles.
Will labour hurt?
Hmm. There are two ways I could answer this question.
I could tell you that there are documented cases of women giving birth without pain. I could even mention that women can orgasm during birth. I could explain that there is a theory that fear and tension in labour produces pain, and so, telling you it is going to hurt could make it more likely that it will.
Or I could give you the honest answer.
Yes.
Probably.
But, uniquely among your life experience, this is good pain. You want this pain. This is pain is doing something incredible.
So maybe ‘pain’ isn’t the right word. In our society, we treat painful feelings as inconveniences, to be erased by the judicious use of painkillers. We use the same words, ‘painful feelings’, to describe negative emotions. Birth is a time for positive feelings, not negative ones.
This pain isn’t something you can pop two paracetamol for. It’s a marathon to run... a mountain to climb... an ocean to cross...
So labour hurts. So what?
This is labour girl! This is work! This is where your body goes to places you’ve never been to before and you be all you can be. It’s not fun. It can be hard. It can push you past what you thought you could endure. But in the extremes of the experience, a new person is forged.
A mother.
Bring it on!
