Ruby McGuire

If there was one thing I wish I’d known before motherhood, it would be that I’d be a good mum. A great mum, even. I knew when I got pregnant that I was young. We were the youngest couple in our NCT group, fresh faced and bright eyed, unable to keep a straight face for most of it. But how do you go from someone so naive to caring for a newborn? When I had my C-section, I was distracted at first because the anaesthetist looked like my ex. What a thing to think about when you’re about to give birth. But I wish I’d known that the moment Frankie was placed on my chest, it wouldn’t just be about me anymore. I was terrified.

You just get on with it, motherhood. I wish I’d known that. It came to me as instinctively as breathing. We were in this together, a team. Motherhood isn’t a competition, despite how it may seem on Instagram. No, my house doesn’t look like Mrs Hinch’s. My nursery isn’t as aesthetic as Zoella’s. But my son is happy and healthy and I’m getting on with it, one day at a time.

When the storm hit Hastings, we lost power for three hours. Unable to breastfeed, we rely on the microwave and the kettle and the fridge for all of Frankie’s nourishment. We didn’t even have phone signal, and I panicked: “I need to call my mum, I need to ask a grown up what to do,” I whined. My partner looked at me: “Ruby, we are the grown ups now.” What a terrifying prospect. But like every other day, we got on with it. Because you just do. You keep going. It’s the most selfless I’ve ever been, but it doesn’t feel like a chore. I don’t feel like a martyr, like Joan of Arc on the stake. I just feel like a mum. A good mum. A great mum, in fact. I wish I’d known that I could do it.