Seven

At 10am on 9th March 2005, Monkey was born with the yank of some forceps. He made a grand entrance, covering me, the doctor, half the room and himself in poo as he came out; a fact he finds very funny, being a boy of the age that truly appreciates toilet humour.

He needed a clean before being handed to me. Not that I cared, I was exhausted and didn't feel that elation that many new mums experience. Instead, I was relieved it was all finally over as his birth had been a stop-start labour running over several days, involving trips back and forth to maternity units and antenatal clinics, most of them fruitless.