Veronica had always wanted a big family. And her childhood love of colours and patterns gave her an unusual way of keeping things in order
My eyes were glued to the newest episode of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
Something about the colour-coded characters really appealed to me.
Certain numbers, shades and patterns always seemed to calm me.
When I was young, my dad wasn’t in the picture — and my mum’s health issues meant looking after me could be a challenge.
So I ended up raising myself, watching my favourite colour-coded TV shows, like _Power Ranger_s and Care Bears.
When I grow up, I’ll have a big family of my own, I vowed to myself.
Years passed and, one afternoon when I was just 14, I headed into the doctor’s office.
‘I haven’t had my period in a few months,’ I told her anxiously.
The doctor ran a few tests and then sat me down to give me the results.
‘Veronica, you’re pregnant,’ she said.
‘But I can’t be!’ I replied. ‘I’m only 14.’
Although I had a boyfriend, I’d never fully understood my school’s sex education classes.
I thought you couldn’t get pregnant until you were at least 16.
After the appointment, I wasn’t sure what to do.
My boyfriend didn’t want to be involved and my mum didn’t have much reaction to the news.
As my belly grew, a tutor helped me finish that year of school.
Nine months into my pregnancy, my waters broke while I was at a friend’s house.
I was rushed to hospital in an ambulance and, after just two hours of labour, my daughter was born.
When the nurse passed her over to me, I was overwhelmed with how beautiful she was.
‘It’s just you and me against the world,’ I whispered to her, holding her close.
As I got ready to go back home, an extended family member handed me a leaflet.
‘Just something to think about,’ she said.
Adoption is an option, read the text.
I was furious — how dare she suggest I get rid of my child?
She was everything I had and I named her Victoria.
But I realised I was totally clueless about how to look after a newborn.
‘Have you changed her nappy today?’ asked a nurse.
‘No,’ I said. ‘She hasn’t cried yet.’
‘You have to change it, even if she doesn’t cry,’ explained the nurse.
Back at home, I began to realise that my mum’s house wasn’t really suitable for a baby.
More than anything else, I was terrified someone would take my daughter away from me.
After sofa-surfing for a while, an aunt offered to let us stay with her.
As Victoria grew up, she sprouted vibrant red hair. So I bought her little red dresses and Strawberry Shortcake toys.
As soon as she could speak, she started asking for a baby brother or sister, but I told her that there was no chance until I was older.
As soon as I turned 18, I moved out of my aunt’s place.
I ended up getting back together with my ex and we rented a flat together.
It wasn’t long till I was pregnant with my second baby — a boy called Andrew.
One boy and one girl! I thought to myself. That’s neat!
The pair appealed to my love of patterns.
My relationship with my partner broke down and I began seeing an old friend from school.
It wasn’t long before I discovered I was pregnant again, this time with a little boy, who I named Adam.
And at the age of 21, I gave birth to my second daughter, Mara.
OK, two boys and two girls, I thought. I’ll stop there!
During one summer, my partner’s nephews came to stay with us.
‘Let’s do a photo shoot,’ I suggested.
I dressed up my kids in their best outfits and snapped a pic in our garden.
‘Wow, I’ve accidentally colour-coded you all,’ I said, laughing.
That’s when something clicked.
I’d always bought Victoria red things because of her hair, and pink things because she was a girl.
Andrew had always had blue things because he was a little boy, and Adam always had green, because he loved frogs and lizards.
Mara had plenty of yellow things, because I’d been going through a phase of loving yellow.
‘Ok,’ I said. ‘I’m calling it — these are all your official colours!’
From then on, I started buying them everything in those colours, from plates and cups to bedding and toys.
The system had some major organisational benefits too.
Whenever I was doing laundry, I’d instantly know which clothes belonged to which child.
Then, I discovered I was pregnant for a fifth time…
My son Dash was born with bright orange hair so, of course, orange was the perfect colour for him.
And when my next daughter, Darla, came along, I assigned her the colour purple.
Then I had my son Marvelous, who was red like Victoria, repeating the pattern.
'These are your official colours!'
With seven children, I began to feel like being a mum was my superpower!
And, me being me, I couldn’t help wanting to complete the colour sequence again.
So next came Martalya, who was blue, and Amelia, green.
After suffering a miscarriage, I decided to skip yellow.
My next daughter, Delilah. was orange and my eleventh child, Donovan, was purple.
Family life was certainly hectic!
As the kids grew up, it was as though their colours reflected their personalities.
The red kids were cool and the blue ones were natural leaders. Green were sassy, and orange were sweet but with a temper. Yellow were cute and loveable, while purple loved all things spooky.
Darla loved purple so much, she even dyed her hair that colour!
There were too many of us to fit into a normal car, so instead I ended up with a big yellow school bus.
‘Are those all yours?’ people would ask, when they saw us out and about.
We’d been living in a house with only three bedrooms, so our top priority was moving somewhere larger.
I managed to find a run-down house with nine bedrooms for just over £16,000.
We got to work renovating it and all moved in.
By then, Victoria was 22.
‘Mum, I’ve got something to tell you,’ she said nervously one day. ‘I’m pregnant.’
‘Oh my God, congratulations!’ I said. ‘I’m going to be a gran before I’m 40!’
Then I discovered I was pregnant again too, and I couldn’t have been happier.
‘They can be best friends!’ I said to Victoria, as we bumped our tummies together.
Victoria had a little girl named Maddie, while I had a little boy, Modi. I assigned him yellow to complete the colour pattern.
Around that time, doctors told me I needed to have a hysterectomy for medical reasons.
‘It’s probably a good thing,’ I told a friend. ‘If I had one more, I’d feel like I needed to have another five for the colour-coding!’
Watching Victoria take care of her daughter, I couldn’t help but reflect on my own life.
By the time I was her age, I’d already had five kids.
While I never regretted having any of my children, now I could see that I’d been very young for all of that responsibility.
‘Do you think you’ll have big families one day?’ I asked Victoria and Andrew.
‘I’d love a wife and loads of kids in the future,’ said Andrew.
‘No way!’ said Victoria. ‘Maddie’s enough for me!’
Even with colour-coding, our family life is very chaotic, and I know it’s not for everyone.
But when I was growing up, all I wanted was a family there to support me.
No matter what, my kids will always have their siblings to look out for them.
And over the years. I’ve learnt that’s what family is all about.
Veronica Merritt, 39