I know they exist - these women who are AMAZING at being pregnant and SAIL through the birth and following weeks. Two examples of and from whom I am constantly told stories:

My mum got pregnant with me when my brother was only about 12 weeks old. She coped with that and an alcoholic abusive husband and like to tell how she cycled down town for the shopping some 48 hours after giving birth, how she made Christmas and New Years dinner for the whole family - including the in-laws - only days before I was born (Jan 3rd.)

Adam's mum likes to tell how when she had babies she's leave the hospital only hours after to get home to wallpaper and make dinner for the rest of the family (she had 5 live children and two stillborn). How she never missed a night's sleep and how her babies were well independant of her and fending for themselves by the age of 2 days or something.

I can't do that. My first pregnancy was Pelvic Floor hell. I could barely walk the last 10 weeks of my pregnancy and for about 4 months after I still had pain beyond belief. I didn't cope well with being sleep deprived and it took 9 days of painful contractions before actual labour established and I was able to give birth - and this only with help from drugs of all kinds. I didn't cook dinner for some 4 weeks after giving birth - in fact, the first 2 weeks I spent in bed or on the sofa. This time around, it's not my pelvic floor - it's sciatica from hell rendering me immobile or at least severely disabled. But with Raven about, I obviously have to get up and get active. I have to cook proper dinner in the evening and do miscellaneous domestic chores. But I'm tired and exhausted and overwhelmed and full of insecurity and feelings of inadequasy. I am not super woman and I hate that my mum and mother-in-law make me feel like I am somehow failing at this being a mum and being pregnant. After all, as opposed to them, I never smoked during pregnancy and I was able to and enjoyed breastfeeding. Kept going until about one month ago.

My mum likes to mention - often - how lucky I am to have such a wonderful husband. As though, without him, I'd be lost. She's obviously right - I would be lost without my husband, but I also wouldn't have children! I think it's probably jealousy of a kind that she never had that kind of support from her spouse - neither emotionally nor physically. Instead of making me feel bad because I have him and can take naps during the day and have lie-ins during the weekend, she should be happy for me. And I'm sure she is, but she ain't telling me. In fact, she likes to tell me all the things I ought to do to support him more. Because he goes to work every day and goes to language school two evenings a week to learn Danish and renovates our new house all the other hours given - not to mention spending as much time with Raven in the inbetween as possible. No wonder he's exhausted and daunted and etc. too. And that's why I cook dinner and clean the house and all the other stuff I do manage to do despite the increasing physical agony and mental stress in my life. But we're a team - We're two parts to this company called the Lowe Family.

But I can't be this apparent Super Woman of yesteryear who could build a house with her bare hand whilst cooking dinner and rearing her youngsters and who could pull a coal cart up from the mines whilst giving birth. And I think that rather than the snide comments and tales of heroic lives of toil and trouble, the super women from yesteryear of whom these super human tasks were expected - nay - demanded - should applaud the fact that I do not have to suffer like they did. That men of my generation take their fair share of responsibility and support and help and understand when the house isn't up to MIL inspection at all times and dinner isn't always roast with all the trimmings.