Page 10 of The 3am Shattered Mums' Club

Sophy had begun to see other mums like a mirage – after a month of surviving on sporadic sleep as and when Max dictated, she had managed to open one twitchy eye wide enough to notice there were a few other mums skulking around the local area with small babies, and she had an overwhelming urge to be near them because she felt she was just a chimp clinging to a rock floating in space and needed other mummy chimps to be around her to help raise her baby chimp. But of course, she never said that out loud to anyone, although she might have said it to Jeff once, and he asked her if she had been sniffing Tippex again. She certainly couldn’t imagine herself saying that to other new mums, and shuddered at the thought of humiliating herself.

Sophy always used to let every weird and eccentric thing about her spill out, but now, when she imagined being her most authentic self, she would experience a sense of panic that would grow and evolve until she was panicking about other areas of her life too. Like how people believed she knew what she was talking about on social media. But the truth was, Sophy knew very little. She had done a business degree, and she read up as much as she could about nutrition. Oh, and she liked keeping fit. But what had started out as a bit of fun had escalated, and now people gave her free stuff, which was great, but Sophy couldn’t help but feel like a colossal fraud. Mostly because deep down, she wasn’t that passionate about nutrition or advocating it. She just liked it a bit, and somehow, she knew how to take a bloody good photo and had managed to create a sort of brand with the pink and blue. And now there was the pressure to keep it going, because who knew what it could lead to. One hundred and sixty thousand followers in just over a year was a fantastic achievement. But talking about women’s bodies on social media was all a bit confusing. There was a whole new approach to embracing larger women under #bodypositivity, and with more people coming forward to admit anorexia and eating disorders due to years of dieting and feeling the pressure to look lighter and slimmer, Sophy really didn’t know where she stood any more, and she certainly had no idea what sort of content was acceptable. She was completely winging it, and she knew it was only a matter of time before she posted something that offended too many people. She had seen and heard it happen enough times on social media. She had witnessed the shit show as normal, everyday women with lives and families happened to write a post that had caused offence, then the big, long apology post came and they disappeared for months – only a few would return with their tail between their legs, with much more politically correct content, as if they had been away and learned their lesson. But Sophy wasn’t sure she was up for that. She wasn’t sure she had the strength to satisfy every single angle to cause the least amount offence.

But Sophy knew one thing, and that was that she was determined to make some true mum friends. She had made a few social-media friends that she had met at events, had a couple of school friends she kept in contact with and a few of Jeff’s friends who were married couples who they met for dinner from time to time. But she was in a new phase of her life now and was craving that human contact more than anything.

Sophy had heard a saying recently that it takes a village to raise a child. Her mission now was to seek out these women and surround herself with them. And so far, she was pretty sure she had bagged herself two friends and she was going to cling on to them with all she had. She was spellbound by Mel with her firm body and carefree attitude – she needed both Mel’s ‘fuck it’ philosophy and her bulging biceps to rub off on her. And then there was that tender moment in the café when she had somehow managed to understand exactly how Sophy was feeling without Sophy having to say a word. And then there was Aisha, who remained so calm and collected even with two babies to tend to. They were both an inspiration. And she had felt pretty comfortable around both of them. That was the sort of friendship she needed; people she could be real with. Now she had Max, she felt she was ready to have her tribe, the sort of thing Beyoncé had; safety in numbers felt like the right thing to do now she was responsible for a small person. Who said she had to do it all alone?

Sophy’s mum was still dealing with her sudden fear of trains and Jeff’s parents were as useful as a condom machine in the Vatican, always there with those half-hearted offers of help but never following through and relieving any of the pressure.

‘We can come and help you paint the bathroom next Wednesday—Oh sorry, did you say it was today? I’ve booked a hairdresser’s appointment.’

She had tried over the years to encourage Jeff’s parents to like her. She bought a floral blouse so that Jeff’s mum, Wendy, would look at her and compliment her. She spent a week reading crocheting magazines and watching episodes of true crime documentaries just so she would have something to discuss with her over dinner, but no matter how many times she dropped in questions aboutAbducted in Plain Sightor asked her thoughts onThe Staircase, Wendy seemed to shun her every time. Like actually shut her down by asking her to pass the gravy or enquiring whether anyone wanted cranberry sauce because she had bought three for two in the supermarket last week and she wouldn’t use them up by 2024 at this rate. Then conversations would invariably turn to what Sophy’s plans were once the baby was born. It baffled Sophy that anyone would ask that. ‘That child will be taking up the next eighteen years of your life and then some.’ As if Sophy was unaware of what giving birth to a child entailed long term. ‘I still worry about my little Jeffy baby,’ Wendy had gone on to say during one lengthy lunch just before Christmas. Suddenly, all Sophy could see was an adult version of her boyfriend of four years, who was turning forty-two next year, as a snotty little child, and the sponge pudding that had seemed mildly enticing had become a congealed blob of yellow mass in front of her. Wendy also consistently ignored Sophy’s successes on her social-media platform; she’d gained so many followers, and her vlogs on health and fitness had won a small award the previous year. ‘Vlogging? What is vlogging? It sounds like a form of corporal punishment, love,’ were Wendy’s words when she tried to explain that she was indeed using the degree in business and management – not marketing as Wendy had suggested – every day when she interacted with humans either face to face or via the internet. But what could you say to a woman who went to the same holiday resort in Tenerife every year because the cabaret act from the hotel bar had once featured onThis Morningand still considered a glass of tomato juice a luxury starter? The only thing tomato juice was good for was to throw in with a bloody Mary.

But Sophy was beginning to see the cracks in social media. What had once seemed so enticing and gave her goosebumps when she thought about a post going live, now felt hollow and empty. She craved something else. But she wasn’t sure where the frustrations with Instagram ended and the loneliness of new motherhood began. There were empty promises of meet-ups with a couple of the mums from her ‘Labour of Love’ class she had attended whilst pregnant with Max. But she had suddenly realised that meeting mums was worse than dating. If she found just one weird thing about them, then she was completely turned off. At the Labour of Love class, one of the women had such a hairy upper lip that Sophy couldn’t stop staring at it. She knew trying to forge any kind of relationship where she would never be able to say ‘Must dash’ without causing offence, would be impossible. Not to mention that Sophy was sure she would spend any conversation in some sort of perpetual ‘tash’ trance. The other woman at the class had talked about her carpal tunnel insistently and referred to breast milk as ‘milky milk’. Neither of these women were the ideal candidates for the sort of long-term bosom-buddy, tell-each-other-everything relationship that Sophy was seeking.

Tiredness had truly set in, and Sophy walked around that morning as though she were looking at the world through a sepia lens. Sophy pulled on her huge sleeping-bag coat, togged up Max and set off for a walk to try and clear her hazy head. She knew Mel lived fairly close to her – she and Aisha were opposite ends of Clapham and Mel was in Wandsworth. ‘What the dodgy end?’ Sophy had said quoting her favouriteLove Actuallycharacter and was ecstatic when Mel actually belly laughed because she got the reference. She decided a long walk with the pram there and back, just to suss out her street was in order. And if she happened to bump into her, all the better! Besides, it was near to one of her favourite coffee shops, so any ‘chance’ meeting wouldn’t come across as so weird.

When Sophy arrived in Mel’s road, she cruised past the house, then double backed on herself. There was a side gate, but Sophy could just about see the far end of the back garden. Was that a hot tub? Sophy perched herself on the frame of her travel system. Instantly, she felt bad treating such an expensive piece of kit with such disrespect. She had begged Jeff for this particular model, knowing that it cost over a thousand pounds, and ignored his response of ‘Well, as long as there’s something in it for me’ as he took out his wallet and handed her his credit card. Sophy had rubbed her bulging belly at him. Could the birth of a healthy baby boy not just be the ‘something in it’ for him? So far, in the thirty or so days since Max’s birth, Jeff had been very late home for eight of them; after-work drinks, schmoozing clients, showing houses, paperwork that absolutely had to be done there and then. Sophy was fairly sure he could have got himself out of several of those meetings if he really wanted to. When she was still heavily pregnant, Jeff’s secretary had taken Sophy aside at the Christmas party. ‘I remember what it was like, darling. A baby turns your entire world upside down. You ensure Jeff is at home with you from now on. I will make sure we send someone else out to do the client meets and whatnot. He really doesn’t need to do it himself – we have three other very competent salesmen.’ Maggie was a slight woman with permanent pink cheeks and a smile that radiated. But when Sophy mentioned what Maggie had said, Jeff claimed Maggie must have been drunk and that his absence would cause massive repercussions for the business. Sophy recollected that night with a great deal of clarity, as she had stood cradling her third fizzy elderflower and watched through the window as a very sober Maggie took her husband by the hand, escorted him to their car and drove them both home.

Sophy stood on the travel system and winced at a pain down below. She had been warned by the midwife to take it easy. Max had a big head; the tears were still healing. Three evenings after Max’s arrival, Jeff had turned over in bed in a sulk muttering, ‘I have needs too you know,’ after she had declined giving him a hand job whilst Max suckled on her breast, where he had been for almost seventy-two hours. Soaked in fresh and regurgitated breast milk, Sophy looked at her boyfriend and wondered was it possible she now had two babies to tend to?

Sophy hadn’t been prepared for the loneliness. The tiredness she could just about handle at the moment – there were probably a few hormones knocking around giving her a high, so the hazy, underwater feeling seemed tolerable enough when you didn’t have to really interact with anyone other than a snuffling infant. But the lack of human contact was glaringly apparent. She had begun walking the entire street layout of her area every day, determined to get her body back into shape, but the days were long and the nights longer. Jeff seemed smitten enough with Max, the boy he had desperately wanted, but his work demanded him to be up and off by 7.30 a.m. Most days, Sophy had barely finished the night feed and found herself stood in front of him in the kitchen to wave him off. She hadn’t ever experienced such aching despondency at not having anyone to talk to all day. She missed who she and Jeff were before Max came along. Then she felt guilty for even thinking that an innocent baby was to blame for the sparkle having gone out of their relationship. Some evenings, she was so tired she could barely speak to Jeff. They used to laugh so much when they first got together. And there had been a lot of sex. She knew Jeff would be missing the sex. But all couples went through this after a baby, didn’t they? But, she wondered, was it normal that they were suddenly so distant with each other now that Max was here? It certainly wasn’t the picture-perfect family image she had conjured up before she got pregnant.

As she tried to steal a better look at Mel’s place, Sophy could feel the structure of the pram yielding under her weight but took her body to the next phase of stretching to get onto her toes so she could see a little more into the garden. She wondered if she and Jeff could squeeze a hot tub into the tiny garden of the two-bedroomed house they lived in. She had already told Jeff that they would need to add an extension to the back of the house to accommodate an office and another bedroom. This, Jeff had said, he would investigate and had booked a building firm to pop in for a survey next week.

As Sophy stretched up, she felt the buggy give way, the brake she thought she had applied had not locked properly and clicked off, and the next moment Sophy felt herself falling forward. Her feet slipped from the body of the buggy and as her knees hit the ground, she felt an actual crack. Her hands took the blow less than a second after her knees, which had already taken the brunt of the fall. Luckily, she was wearing gloves, as the weather had turned chilly again. She cried out as the sting from the sharp pebbly pavement and the hard impact from the fall ripped through her body. Then there was a voice that sounded far away. Sophy had instinctively tried to curl into the foetus position, but the voice was closer and Sophy couldn’t bear to look up and see who had witnessed such a catastrophic blunder.

‘Sophy, is that you?’ The voice began to come through as the pain subsided and Sophy could finally hear properly again. She looked up to see Mel looming over her. Her heart sank. She felt the rage of disappointment at her misdemeanour. Why had she thought stalking the woman who had offered to talk to her at 3 a.m. was a good idea? Mel had seemed like a good human. What the hell had Sophy been thinking? She hated herself right now.

Sophy looked up and smiled. ‘Hi, Mel, how are you?’ Sophy did her best surprised voice.

‘What are you doing around these parts? You’re Clapham, aren’t you?’ Mel had her hand out and Sophy realised she was still on her knees; the buggy had only edged a few feet away from her and she could see Max was still fast asleep.

‘Erm…’ Sophy raised her hand, and Mel pulled her up in one swift thrust, the act so seamless, they could have been a couple onStrictly Come Dancing. Sophy was shocked and thrilled in equal portions at the vigour and strength Mel used. Then began to brush herself down in a show of disbelief.

‘Wow, what a fool I feel,’ Sophy said, suddenly feeling able to be slightly more honest in front of Mel.

‘Good job I was just putting the bin out then, or your face plant would have gone undocumented. You still look fabulous though, by the way. But then I gauged that about you when I met you. I looked you up on Insta. You didn’t tell me your account was so popular? You’re a social media guru! I definitely want you on my team now,’ Mel said putting an arm around her. ‘Are you okay?’

Sophy smiled self-consciously. Here was Mel being an open book, whilst she had been skulking around outside her house. ‘Yes. I’ll be fine.’

‘So did you get lost or is this your usual route?’ Mel dropped her arm from around Sophy and pulled Max’s pram back towards her.

‘I love the coffee shop around here, and I was lost in thought walking – I must have missed the road turning.’

‘Oh wow. Well, I live just there.’ Mel pointed to the house Sophy had just been spying on.

‘Oh yes, of course, you said you lived over this way. Nice gaff. Four-bed?’

‘Yes. Thanks. My husband is a proper grafter. Left uni with no debts and got straight on the property ladder.’

Sophy smiled. ‘Lucky.’ She thought of her own poor set-up at Jeff’s place, where she was still essentially just a lodger.

‘So, you’re off to Frank’s? Their vegan brownies are to die for. I would join you, but Skylar is still sleeping, and well, I’m enjoying the peace and quiet. And I’m going to get a quick HIIT workout in.’

Sophy surreptitiously looked Mel up and down in her pink athletic leggings and shimmery grey vest top which showed off her perfectly sculpted shoulders.

‘Wow, you’re really into your fitness. I loved meeting you and Aisha the other day. I think she needs us, you know. Well, I think we all probably need each other. Christ, this parenting lark is proper hard,’ Sophy gabbled.

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