Fashionably Late - the book

Edinburgh Book Festival appearance

Nicola Morgan, head of the Society of Authors in Scotland, and the Edinburgh International Book Festival have asked me to do a writer's workshop at the festival in August on blogging, social networking and books. Wonderful news, but I did feel honour-bound to point out that following the collapse of The Friday Project I don't currently have a book contract. I didn't want them to take me under false pretences. Were they sure they still wanted me? Not a problem, said the organisers. They already knew all about my publisher going bust (very sorry, sure something good would come of it) and could I please talk a bit to the audience about my experiences with The Friday Project? Well, fine. I can do that. Only other snag is that I'm due to give birth just six weeks earlier. But my friend Vanessa has offered to look after the baby in the refreshment tent while I do the workshop. So looks like we're in business. Anyone in Edinburgh in August, do please come along if you get the chance. I'll do my best to make it informative and fun.

Posted 20 April 2008 13:04 | Number of comments: 6 | Comments

Activities Blogging Books Fashionably Late - the book Out and about

This writing life

In the end, it was my two-year-old daughter who best summed up this week's crisis at my publisher. "Book!" cried Beanie, clasping a copy of Catherine Rayner's Augustus and His Smile in her hand and advancing towards me, waving the desired item in the air. "Book!" she cried again, hoping I would read the story of Augustus' search for his missing smile to her. "Book! Book! Book!" Poor Beanie. Her father Va-vay and I were both too preoccupied to read to her. "Book!" she insisted. "No, Beanie, darling, not right now," I said. "Mummy and daddy are worried about something. We'll do the book later." I sighed. I put my head in my hands. Even Va-vay sighed. Va-vay never normally sighs. Self-pity, not his thing. He turned to me. "She's right, isn't she. Beanie's right. That's what all this is about. A book." He means my book. Not the one about Augustus, lovely though he is. A few days ago I discovered that my publisher has officially gone bust, owing hundreds of thousands to all sorts of people. This is potentially a disaster for me, as it leaves me with a half-finished book (on later motherhood) and no-one to publish it. Three months before I'm due to have a baby. I keep waking at 4am in panic, unable to get back to sleep for worrying about how to recoup the time I've invested in writing. Thinking about the money I could have earnt if I hadn't been working on Fashionably Late. Embarrassed about all the women I've interviewed, women who have been so generous in sharing their stories and time with me, recounting deeply personal experiences of relationships, pregnancy and childbirth. They're expecting to see a book result from it all and I'm afraid I'm going to let them down. And when the 4am demons strike, I'm also mortified that the entire episode reflects badly on me and my judgement. The only glimmer of hope is that I've been assured that another publisher wants to buy my book. And is in the process of issuing a contract. Mean time, let's just say, Augustus isn't the only one round here who's lost his smile.

Posted 03 April 2008 21:40 | Number of comments: 25 | Comments

Angst Books Fashionably Late - the book

BBC Three Counties Radio

For anyone interested, I'm on BBC Three Counties Radio tomorrow at 10.15am to discuss whether anybody would be mad to start a family in their twenties these days.

Posted 17 March 2008 14:54 | Number of comments: 7 | Comments

Fashionably Late - the book Older mother

Welcome to Guardian readers

Welcome to anyone who's found this site through its mention today in The Guardian in its weekly Guide. I'm delighted to be included in the paper's Internet section in a column on Blog Roll Mums, where I feature alongside The Baby Juggler, Mommy Has A Headache, Parenthacks, Strife in the North and Sarcastic Mom. If anything on the site strikes a chord with you, please leave a comment. And if any of you became a mum over 35, drop me a line. I'm researching for my book Fashionably Late so would love to hear from you.

Posted 01 March 2008 12:29 | Number of comments: 16 | Comments

Blogging Fashionably Late - the book Older mother

See, it's not just me

Pregnancy in the over 40s has reached a record high - proving how fashionable it's become to have children later in life. The conception rate has risen across women of all ages - but is most marked in the over 40s. Pregnancies have jumped up by more than 6% from 11.5 per 1,000 women aged 40-44 in 2005, to 12.2 last year. It's worth remembering that the over 40s still account for a tiny percentage of all births - around 3% - but that figure has tripled over recent years as more women, like myself, defer childbearing until later in life.

The Telegraph reports that the news will prompt 'fears that the growing number of older mothers is placing increased pressure on maternity units'. Writing as someone aged 40 and 21 weeks pregnant, you can imagine how thrilled I was to read that. It's such rubbish that older women are causing problems in the NHS.

Apart from going mental when I told a locum GP I was pregnant and she asked me (without looking away from her screen) if I was planning on continuing with my pregnancy, (I never went back to her) I follow all the instructions in pregnancy - little or no alcohol, sticking to (probably spurious) caffeine limits, no cold remedies, fear of pate and liver, obsession with pasteurisation, location of nearby hospitals etc. My roots are growing through grey; I'm too scared to risk hair colouring. Baths are tepid.

Every health professional I've interviewed for my book on being an older mum, Fashionably Late, agrees that older mums are often less of a problem to the health service because, like me, they're compliant and do as they're told, like cutting out smoking, since they want the child so much. That leads to reduced (or zero) risk of complications like listeria infection, foetal alcohol syndrome, poor growth rates.

So it's a bit rich to blame older mums for strains in the health service, whose problems obviously go far beyond a few later starters like myself having babies later on in life.

Needless to say, The Telegraph does not miss the opportunity to have a dig at women concentrating on their careers, claiming that when professional women return to work after having children they often move 'into jobs where the average employee lacks even A-levels'. Can this be true? It's not my experience - or that of my friends. But still, makes for grisly reading.

Older women are often attacked for their 'selfish' emphasis on 'careers' (for 'career' read, grafting away in some horrible job to pay rent/mortgage while being messed around by some bloke too immature to commit to family/children) but this means we've paid shedloads more in tax to fund the NHS. So why shouldn't we cash in our tax investment and get something back? Most of us won't be getting any tax relief on childcare expenses, or much in the way of government maternity benefits, (unlike in most European countries) so we might as well enjoy having our babies on the NHS.

Posted 28 February 2008 15:34 | Number of comments: 11 | Comments

Childbirth Fashionably Late - the book Older mother Health Pregnancy Work Work vs mothering

A funny old year

Some highlights - and some not-so-good bits - from 2007:

January - back to work for first time since having Beanie. It's like returning from exile in a foreign country. Painful to be parted from her. In more ways than one. Am still breastfeeding so by mid-morning my boobs are so hard I have to squirt out milk by hand in the loo to relieve the pain. My co-workers all seem young, slim and trendy. They're a nice crowd, but I bet none of them have ever even seen the structural monstrosity that is a nursing bra. It's hard to be hip when you're lactating. Am struggling to lose post-pregnancy weight.

February - builders rip our flat apart to investigate for dry rot. Fitted carpets (laid only a year earlier) are taken up, architraves ripped off the window recesses.There isn't any rot, as it turns out, but in darker moments I sometimes think there might as well have been, with all the mess, upheaval and expense.

March - pregnant again, after only the first month of trying. It happens so easily, the pregnancy feels unreal from the outset. Va-vay and I - both exhausted from last year's onslaught - are ambivalent. An air of unbelievability hangs over the pregnancy's entire (short) duration. I'm not sick, tired or dizzy. At the time, this seems a good thing.

Start this blog, following a chance encounter with a writer at an Edinburgh City of Literature evening. Unsure where it will take me.

April - Beanie's first birthday and our second wedding anniversary. Beanie walking. Reluctantly, I wind down breastfeeding, thinking I should concentrate resources on the new baby.

May - start bleeding, losing bright red blood. When we go for a scan the next day, the monitor shows the baby has no heartbeat and probably died several weeks previously. People quote statistics at me, telling me 'how common' it is. Despite my earlier ambivalence about the pregnancy, am wretched at losing it. Feel a fool as well.

June - Va-vay goes on reproductive strike. He wants a break over the summer from trying for a child. I am now desperate for another baby. Everywhere I look I see prams, babies and smiling mothers. Despite the statistics, I can't imagine any of them ever having a miscarriage. I interrogate friends on whether they're pregnant, dreading them saying yes. It isn't healthy, but I can't help it.

July - Counselling helps me start to come to terms with the loss - and I manage to agree to wait before trying again.

August - Edinburgh International Book Festival. Hear Ian McEwan, Benedict Allen, Colin Thubron, Janice Galloway, Kate Mosse, Simon Armitage, Antonia Swinson, Esther Freud and Kitty Aldridge speak. This is fun. Realise I haven't enjoyed going out and about like this since before I was pregnant with Beanie.

September - Scott Pack of The Friday Project signs me up to write a handbook for women who become mums 'fashionably late'. Looks like this blogging business is going somewhere after all.

October - holiday in France. Happy days.

November - turn forty. The event I've been dreading all year. Worse in the anticipation than the deed. A slap-up lunch with Va-vay eases the pain. I felt like this when I turned thirty - now I can't understand what the fuss was about.

December - difficult start to the month, with what would have been my due date. But good news follows. Can't say too much at the moment, but will keep you posted in 2008.

Posted 31 December 2007 11:25 | Number of comments: 13 | Comments

Books Fashionably Late - the book Miscarriage Work

Time and Tide

Apologies for the lack of recent postings. I've only just realised it's been six days since I managed to blog. Six whole days. Shameful contrast to the high watermark of summer, when I set myself a target of daily postings.

I'd love to blame the downturn on Christmas and being too busy with shopping and partying to blog. But the truth is I haven't been too well and have hardly left the flat. I'm also finding I need to put any spare time into writing my book.

I've been busy reading around the subject of motherhood when not looking after Beanie and working on the book.

Regular readers of this blog might remember I'm a huge fan of Kate Mosse's Becoming a Mother. I liked it so much, I re-read it over the weekend, just to enjoy that feeling of companionship and support again.

I've also been reading Susan Faludi's Backlash - The Undeclared War Against Women, which has got me energised with anger. She dismisses the infertility scare stories of recent years as having little or no basis in fact, blaming them on widespread resentment at women's new-found freedom to work and decide when (or if) they will have children.

Reading Backlash reminded how fed up I am with some of the unflattering descriptions used for women who have babies after 35. Is it not about time the medical authorities thought up something less insulting than 'senile primigravida' to describe a first-time mother over 35?

I'm also losing patience with hearing healthy, blooming women in their late thirties and early forties described as 'older'.

When are we going to wake up to the fact that women in their thirties (and older) are in their prime? These are some of our most productive and creative years. Calling us 'old' is part of the same attempt to stigmatise any woman who shows some choosiness about when and how she has children that also leads to bogus infertility scares and 'man shortage' stories.

I don't think of myself as 'old' or even 'older' - and that's because, looked at in absolute terms, I'm not. I was older than the average first-time mum (29) when I had my daughter (at 38). But that doesn't qualify me for the zimmer frame and slippers quite yet.

Come to think of it, I don't even consider my mother, an energetic 67-year-old, to be 'old'. Though she has qualified for a bus pass that Beanie regularly filches from her handbag.

What do you think is a good substitute for 'old' or 'older' to describe new mums or mums-to-be over 35?

Posted 10 December 2007 12:17 | Number of comments: 12 | Comments

Blogging Books Dilemmas Fashionably Late - the book Older mother Paradoxes Work at Home Mum

Read all about it

Great piece in the Edinburgh Evening News on my book, Fashionably Late, about being an older mum - Motherhood blog gives birth to book deal for city woman.

It was embarrassing when the paper's photographer arrived and Beanie led her into the back bedroom, the only room I hadn't managed to tidy when I heard the 'snapper' was coming, and where I'd dumped all the clean laundry, two racks of still-damp clothes, Va-vay's computer books and stuff for my tax return. But she didn't seem to mind. Seemed almost reluctant to follow me back into the hall, if you ask me.

As you can see, Beanie got to have her picture taken by the photographer. She was very patient while this happened, though I could see an inner battle going on. On the one hand, she wanted to stay put and enjoy the special attention and rare privilege of getting to play with the laptop, (of which, more later). On the other, she wanted to continue her rampage across the flat.

The clever photographer clinched it by waving Miffy the Rabbit (not featured) over her shoulder. As a result, you can see Beanie in the shot, dressed in the special jersey we bought her in France, clinging onto a piece of cottonwool. We're both pretending to gaze with interest at the aforementioned laptop. Can't be sure, but think they might have kindly airbrushed out the bags under my eyes. And some laughter lines. Normally my credentials as an older mother are more, err, in evidence. Beanie didn't need airbrushing, being beautiful as she is.

Va-vay said he was proud of us all when he saw the piece: me, Beanie and the laptop. Yes, the laptop. That's because he chose it for me. Va-vay views it with almost proprietary interest. Plus he treats computers like well-loved household pets. And vice versa. When I took a long time today to answer a question, he said: "You should have a little hourglass thing going round, that way I'd know you were thinking. Or had crashed." God forbid I ever need re-booting.

But I digress. Being a journalist myself, it was odd but not unpleasant not being the one asking questions. And it was lovely to see the piece. They even quoted parts of the blog next to the article. I was a bit bemused by some of the rather ill-informed comments people left on the on-line version but I had some kind emails from people. One woman got in touch to tell me she found the blog 'lovely and heartwarming'. Awww, shucks. Makes it all worthwhile. Now, as Beta Mum has said, I've got to hope the delivery of the book isn't as painful as actual childbirth.

Posted 06 November 2007 22:15 | Number of comments: 10 | Comments

Blogging Books Fashionably Late - the book Older mother

Does age matter?

Does age matter when it comes to making friends with other mums?

Does it make any difference if you're the oldest or youngest mum in the post-natal group?

Do people forget about age differences because they've got the - arguably stronger - common bond of looking after their new babies?

I'd count myself friends with other mums of various different ages - probably with a few more of them closer to my age.

I'd be interested to know about readers' experiences of whether age played a part in their post-natal support network.

As you might have guessed, I'm working on a section of Fashionably Late that requires some field research into what it's like for mums setting up social networks after they've had a baby. Any comments much appreciated and I would of course change people's names before putting anything into the book. As I've said before, two signed copies go to people whose comments are included.

Posted 30 October 2007 18:10 | Number of comments: 12 | Comments

Fashionably Late - the book Friends Older mother

It's all comparative

I'm working on the first chapter of Fashionably Late. This section of the book is about who makes the grade as an 'older' mum these days. Officially, any woman over thirty five is honoured with the title. But, unofficially, I suspect the goalposts have shifted somewhere north of around forty. The health professionals don't seem to get too worried these days until women are closer to forty five.

How we define ourselves depends not just on the medical definitions, of course, but also on personal circumstance. If a woman's mother and sisters had their babies before they were 28, she might consider herself 'old' to be having a child at only 34. If anybody reading this has been in that kind of situation, I'd love to hear from them and perhaps interview them.

More generally, I'm interested in what readers of this blog define as 'old' - and why - when it comes to having children. As I suggested above, some people base their ideas of 'old' on whether they're doing things later than their friends or family. I didn't think too much about my age (38) when I had Beanie, until I got to the post-natal meet-up and realised I was the oldest person in the room, barring the health visitor running the group. Other people go by the statistics for the national average (29 years old for first-time mums).

How do you define what it means to be an 'older' mum?

Please leave a comment or get in touch with me via email as I'm keen to know your views.

Two signed copies of the book go to every interviewee.

PS: I include this picture to prove that no mother, whatever her age, is ever too old to ride with her child on a flying teapot. Lacking in good sense or proper decorum, perhaps. But that, as they say, is another matter. You might be able to notice poor Beanie cowering in fear under my right arm.