Product Placement

If I had the money, I’d take a full-page advert out in the national press just to break the terrible code of silence that exists about childbirth. It would say, in enormous letters, “GIVING BIRTH REALLY REALLY HURTS”, and then underneath in smaller type, “Ask for lots of drugs, you’d be a moron not to”. The reason is that, in spite of considering myself a woman of the world, I was not in the least prepared for what I had to go through to hold my baby son in my arms. Early on in the process I sat, bobbing merrily about on a gym ball with a cup of tea in my hand, proclaiming “I’m in labour!” and I wondered why some of the midwifes shot each other glances. I now know that the glances meant “Poor cow, she doesn’t know what she’s in for”. What I was in for, as it happens, was a pain that has been likened to being repeatedly slammed in the abdomen with a fire extinguisher. For twenty-four sodding hours.

Anyway, as mind-numbingly dreadful as the whole experience was, I would of course do the whole thing again at the drop of a hat, which seems slightly hypocritical. And when I do (yes, dear, that’s ‘when’) I shall take my own advice, which comes in the form of these, my Top Tips Of A Product Nature That Might Make Childbirth And Being In Hospital (Very Very) Slightly Easier. (I say ‘might’ and ‘very very slightly’ because realistically, an epidural will make it easier, products will frankly only make a tiny difference. But I’m not a doctor, so you’ll get what you’re given.)

1. I’m a big fan of a nice spritz. And although a mist of cold liquid doesn’t do much when you’re pushing another human being out of your front bottom, that’s no reason not to give it a whirl. Pack two – a simple Evian one for the labour room (get him to spray it – and swear when you ask him), and something more fragrant and calming for the (often quite hot) ward, such as Neal’s Yard Frankincense Hydrating Facial Mist (£9) or Mama Mio’s Calming Facial Spritz (part of their ‘Countdown Kit’, around £50).

2. Pack sweets. I know, not a product. This is no time for pedantry though; it’s a great tip. I took a big bag of fruity-chewy-sucky sweeties to the labour room and even though they’re not normally my thing, got through the lot. I’m talking Starburst, Fruit Mentos, that sort of thing. They stop your mouth feeling like a badger’s behind with all that lovely gas and air. (Seriously, it is lovely. I might get some piped into my house for a Saturday night.) They also give you energy at a time when eating is quite far up the enormous list of things you don’t feel like doing.

3. Once your little bundle has arrived, there is a hazy period when you’re still in the delivery room and everyone is kind of milling about smiling. It’s all very surreal and to add to this, you may, as I did, have the strange experience of a bed bath. Don’t worry, you won’t care. But the nice ladies that clean you up will want something to work with so pack (on the top of your wash bag as it will be them who have to find it) a nice, gentle, PH-balanced shower gel like Johnson’s Naturally Soft Moisturising Body Wash (about £3) or Caudalie Fleur De Vigne Shower Gel (£7.83).

4. If you’re going to try and breastfeed and aren’t in the habit of wearing nipple-clamps 18 hours a day, Lasinoh Lanolin nipple cream (£9.99) will see you through the interim period until they turn into calloused old teats that can withstand anything.

5. Take nice things with you. This is a time when you need the most help to feel human, so if you have a favourite moisturiser or shampoo, buy it and never mind the expense. The shower on the ward I stayed in was vile but thanks to Clarins Eau Dynamisante Shower Mousse (£15), I emerged feeling fresh. And I bought, for the first time, Elemis (yawn) Maximum Moisture Day Cream (£35), which was a brilliant boost in the mornings when I’d had no sleep. I’m still using it and it’s gorgeous. As is Jake, the little bundle (now a not-so-little nine months old) that made it worth going through all of this a million times over.