From infertility to motherhood and back again…
It’s taken bloody minded determination, a patient partner, an army of medical pro’s, one clever Scotsman, a needle habit to rival the most dedicated junkie, several petri dishes, much extremely *foul language and huge wads of filthy lucre for me to give birth to the delicious Devilboy and his brand spanking new and equally delicious sibling, Devilette.
While I have embraced motherhood and my beautiful babies wholeheartedly I can’t help but rail against the media driven rise of the yummy mummy (like we women don’t have enough body image issues already without being expected to look like a starved whippet before they’ve even tied off the umbilical cord) and the super mummy – generally smug yummy mummy celebs who love to share how easy it is to “do it all” and how simple giving birth/parenting/breastfeeding/losing weight/juggling a career/looking stunning/being awesome and much ,much better than everyone else is for them. Generally without crediting their sixteen nannies, personal chef, stylist ortrainer.
Personally, I’ve happily traded my designer wardrobe, four inch heels and six figure income for baby vomit soaked civvies, ugg boots and penny pinching and, except for the hideous infertile part, wouldn’t change a thing… welcome to the world of one very proudly slummy mummy and her delightfully devilish offspring.
* Mummyfied likes to swear. A lot. If you are easily offended by profanity this blog might not be for you. Just saying.