The 3am Shattered Mums' Club

Nina Manning

Description

Three best friends. One late-night lifeline.

Meet Aisha, Sophy and Mel. Three new mums. All absolutely shattered.

For her social media fans, influencer Sophy has the picture-perfect life. But why does she feel so lonely all the time?

Older mum Mel wasn’t planning on being a mum later in life. What does this all mean for the career that she loved? Can she ever go back?

And Aisha, whose much loved twin boys bring her so much joy, but have caused a rift in her own family that she isn’t sure she can ever fix.

Navigating this new world of motherhood is hard. And the only sanity these three friends have is their 3am mums’ club, where they can chat and support each other in the dark of the night as their babies, finally, finally sleep.

But in the still of the night, secrets are revealed that could turn all their lives upside down…. more than they already are!

Bestselling author Nina Manning is back with a brand-new story of mum guilt, parenting pitfalls and friendship around the clock.

"All the trials and tribulations of motherhood, served up with real heart and understanding. I loved Nina’s central characters, thrown together by their new babies, who bond fiercely over their 3am texts and help each other overcome the past secrets, misunderstandings and insecurities holding them back." Bestselling author Carmen Reid.

Sujets

• Vie de famille
• Parentalité et Éducation des Enfants
• Relations familiales
• Parents célibataires
• Soutien psychologique et conseils familiaux
• Mashups
• Feminist
• Siblings
• Alternative Family
• Humorous
• Women
• Motherhood
• Coming of Age
• Friendship
• Contemporary history
• Dating
• Pregnancy
• Sibling
• General officer
• Parenting
• Woman
• Feminism
• The Women
• General
• Contemporary
• Family Life
• Romance
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 26 octobre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781804265574
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE 3 A.M. SHATTERED MUMS’ CLUB


NINA MANNING
For all the shattered mums. I see you.
CONTENTS




Chapter 1



Chapter 2



Chapter 3



Chapter 4



Chapter 5



Chapter 6



Chapter 7



Chapter 8



Chapter 9



Chapter 10



Chapter 11



Chapter 12



Chapter 13



Chapter 14



Chapter 15



Chapter 16



Chapter 17



Chapter 18



Chapter 19



Chapter 20



Chapter 21



Chapter 22



Chapter 23



Chapter 24



Chapter 25



Chapter 26



Chapter 27



Chapter 28



Chapter 29



Chapter 30



Chapter 31



Chapter 32



Chapter 33




Acknowledgments



More from Nina Manning



About the Author



About Boldwood Books
1
SOPHY

It was precisely seventeen minutes past midnight on Friday, 15 February when Sophy finally lost all control of her bowels. It was less of a loosening – as she had been quietly advised by elder relatives who had been through labour before – and more of an anus explosion. The second of the two cheery-but-firm midwives who had arrived in Sophy’s sitting room a few minutes before began the evacuation of the birthing pool, supporting Sophy as she hauled her leg over the side. Jeff, Sophy’s boyfriend – who had been laid out with his neck against the lip of the birthing pool, his head flopped back, eyes shut and mouth slightly open, arms over the side as though he were in a hot tub in a Cotswold’s holiday cottage – shot out of the water at lightning speed. The water changed to a muddy brown just as Sophy was lifted out and onto the sofa.
Baby Max was delivered half an hour later, along with what the midwife referred to as ‘a teeny wee tear’. As Sophy lay still and somewhat shocked on the sofa the midwife tacking her perineum back together, she was certain she heard Jeff whisper, ‘Make sure to get it all nice and tight,’ but Sophy had inhaled a whole tank of gas and air and had probably imagined it.
Finally, thirteen hours after her first contraction, Sophy was propped up in bed wearing the biggest knickers she had ever owned, stuffed to the breaches with a pad the size of a toddler’s mattress, and holding her brand-new son.
Yesterday, she was Sophy West, a thirty-three-year-old social-media influencer and health guru.
Today, she was a mother.



‘Hey there, healthy bods! It’s Sophy, still here with loads of fab tips for you on staying fit and healthy, even though I just pushed a whopper out of my nether regions just over two weeks ago. Yes, it wasn’t glamorous, and it hurt more than I believed any of you said it would. We have had a gorgeous couple of weeks cosied up in the house, just me, Max and Jeff, and now I’m ready to start whipping your butts back into shape.
‘You might think that as soon as you give birth to that beautiful doe-eyed replica of yourself, all the healthy-eating regime must go out of the window, but believe me, there is a way to keep it up. It’s called stamina. Think of those shiny abs and bulging biceps you worked so hard to achieve, you must KEEP. IT. UP.
‘Listen, I know how hard it is and my life has just got a whole lot harder, as I now have a tiny baby that is literally sucking the life out of me and so I am going to have to work extra hard. But I’m doing it for you guys because I love you and you have totally been there for me all through this pregnancy with your tips and just general bump love. I’m not going to be one of those mums who post endless pics of their baby either. Max may make a cameo appearance from time to time in these vlogs, but basically, it’s just me and you guys. And you know what? After what I have just been through, I know we are stronger than we ever consider ourselves to be, so put that bread-bin lid back on and push the cookies to the back of the cupboard. Seek out your quinoa, fresh veg, nut butter and bags of almonds, cos I’m back and I’m ready to give you all the help you need to maintain that perfect bod. Mwwaaahh!’
Sophy blew a kiss at the camera, then let out a huge sigh. She rubbed at her face where she had applied flawless make-up just an hour earlier and pulled off the pink sports leggings that were digging into her sides. She looked at the red marks they had left behind around her waist and hips – two areas of her body she barely recognised any more – and walked away from the corner of the bedroom she had transformed into a vlogging area. The bedroom was her space, and as much as Jeff constantly griped at how cluttered it felt, he only occupied it to pass out at the end of the day and had never participated in any of the decor and certainly none of the cleaning, so she felt he didn’t have any right to comment.
Sophy flopped onto the bed in her huge knickers which were still stuffed with a heavy flow maternity pad. The healing process was taking much longer than she had anticipated. She had imagined she would be back to her old self by now, going for long walks with Max wrapped up in his pram, then returning pink-cheeked and glowing with maternal vitality. Not still be wincing every time she coughed, or better still, not having to pee in the bath with the shower head spraying between her legs to stop the burning sting.
She remembered an image she had seen on Facebook a few months back of an old school friend posing in front of a Silver Cross grey pram with the beach in the background. The picture had been captured by her husband and below it he had written: ‘Just three days after giving birth – what a woman!’
‘That will be me!’ Sophy had announced to Jeff as she had shown him the picture and caption. And she had truly believed it.
‘One hundred per cent, babes,’ Jeff had said back to her.
Surely, Sophy thought, she should be up and about by now, fourteen days after having Max? But she was still finding it hard to move around the bedroom, let alone lug a pram up and down a promenade and pose for photos. Why weren’t things turning out as she had imagined? This was not how it was supposed to be.
Sophy looked back over at the camera and realised she hadn’t turned it off and the back light was still glaring at her. She used it to highlight the expensive flamboyant wallpaper she had chosen to decorate that one wall; her wall. The one wall that made it look as though she were in a separate room – an office maybe – and not in one of only two bedrooms in this tiny, terraced house in Clapham. She hauled herself up again, flicked the photography lamp off and put the camera on the bed – two pieces of equipment that had set her back a fair bit and had spurred Jeff to mention the price once or twice. Funny how he never complained about the holiday to Barbados they went on last year that was gifted to them by a nutrition company in exchange for a week’s worth of stories and posts as part of a promotion. That was when Max was conceived. Up until then, Sophy had been struggling. She had been off the pill since her thirty-first birthday, but to no avail. She was just on the verge of going to get herself checked out when the holiday happened and boom, she was pregnant.
‘I knew the bloody swimmers weren’t dud! Get in!’ were Jeff’s congratulatory words when she had shown him the test that read ‘two–three weeks pregnant’.
Sophy pulled off her vest, slipped into a cosy white cotton T-shirt and crawled onto the bed. It was just after 7 p.m. and Max had been asleep for over an hour. Who knew when he would wake up again for a feed? She was exclusively breastfeeding. She hated using that term, but so many people had asked her if she would be bottle-feeding soon. Well, she said people , but it was mainly Wendy, Jeff’s mother who wanted to ‘have a go’ and had begun extolling her grandmotherly powers of getting a baby to take a whole bottle in one go. Sophy knew that if there was one thing she would be doing, it was going to be breastfeeding Max until he could hold a spoon in his hand and feed himself.
Sophy began editing the video in a sleep-blurred haze, expertly snipping out the um s and err s and pauses until it was flawless and the perfect length for her fans to engage with. She had only posted a couple of pictures of Max since he had been born, and already she had begun to feel the panic at what might happen to her account if she didn’t keep up with content. She had made a huge effort to make herself look good for the video, even though she was practically shaking with tiredness. She would use the Insta stories, because she knew all the other influencers were using them, but she was still so nervous on social media that she felt better when she had edited a video. That way she had total control.
Sophy packed the camera and laptop and stowed it away in the corner of the room, took a peep in the baby bedside crib at a still-sleeping Max, then climbed into bed, pulled herself under the duvet and closed her eyes. Just as she was about to fall off the ledge of consciousness into the land of sleep, Max let out a tiny mewl that grew rapidly into a fully fledged wail. Sophy sat up and pulled Max from his SnuzPod – a device that had prompted Wendy to ask Sophy what exactly ‘co-sleeping’ was. In her day, babies were put in their beds and expected to sleep, and it didn’t do them any harm. At which point, Sophy had looked over towards Jeff, who had been pointing his camera phone at his face in one hand, stroking his hair back with the other, whilst walking backwards towards the best light and nearly tripped over the laundry basket.
Sophy felt melancholy flood her body as she lifted her T-shirt and pulled a heavy, swollen breast from her maternity bra. She felt her whole body go tense as she looked down at Max, his tiny mouth in an O-shape ready to receive his meal. He had no idea the amount of pain he inflicted on her for those few short minutes until he latched on properly and they both fell into a flow. And she was so tired. She jolted as the t