OK. So I'm sitting here with a tap running inside my nose, barbed wire attached to the inside of my throat and a head filled with cotton wool. I feel awful. It's dinner time, or at least it soon will be and when it comes around I will be expected to walk into the kitchen and cook something delicious. I would much rather go to bed and drink a hot cuppa.
I have two children and the days each of them arrived in this world will stay with me forever. Not because I love them and they mean the world to me (which is obviously the case!) but because it was a harrowing experience. My first born gave me 17 hours of labour, the second about 7. Before having children I never imagined what power my body had and even now I forget. A baby came out of me. Out of that small hole. Ouch! Thinking about it makes me squeeze my legs together!