Babe: 3 years and 3 months
Babeling: 2 weeks

My sister’s midwife once said that first babies shouldn’t be allowed.

It’s true that the second time is much more relaxed. After the babe, I remember us leaving the hospital constantly looking over our shoulders for some authority figure to shout ‘Oi! Where are you taking that baby?’ The whole world was a different place – changed utterly, and all that.

I used to wake up in the night with a jump, thinking I’d fallen asleep with the babe lying on me and that I’d smothered her under the duvet. (It always turned out that the weight on my chest was filled-up boobs.)

I remember swinging between euphoria and panic. This time round, though, leaving the hospital with a newborn felt almost disappointingly normal, and my overriding emotion has been one of calm.

Midwife visit, the Day After:

Babymother: *blah blah blah* So that’s how I am.

Midwife: Great. I do also need to see the baby.

Babymother: Oh yes. *Pause* Does anyone know where the baby is?

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