Imagine being on death-row after a 50 year prison sentence (read: pregnancy). Now imagine for the last 7 days you have been alone and naked in a desert. Blistering, boiling wind slashing at your face. Sand clogging your throat. Blisters on your feet. And all the while being repeatedly whacked by a thin whippy branch (read: labour)

Now imagine, a few minutes ago you were considering giving up on life altogether (read: crowning) The voices around you which had been repeatedly shouting push had made you want to commit murder (if only you could have detached your super-glued hands from the bed frame) you hear something which makes you simultaneously gasp and hold your breath…..

‘would you like a cup of tea and some dinner?’

OMG SCREAM cry laugh rock back-and-fourth in delighted demented hysteria

A.CUP.OF.TEA. (cue single silent small warm tear rolling down left cheek)

Nurse: Do you want to hold the baby again?

inner voice – CUP.OF.TEA.

Midwife: Should we try breastfeeding?


Husband: First photo time! Yay!

Is that the tea trolley?

Dinner/tea Lady: Perhaps some macaroni cheese and a cup of tea?


Here was my first post-birth meal. Still Amen.



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