In September 2014, I gave birth to my third daughter, Nadine, in Auckland, New Zealand. It had been a dramatic delivery. Three epidurals had left me with a stiff neck and an excruciating headache. So a few days after her birth, I was back for tests, bringing her along with me as she needed feeding.
It was the last place I wanted to be. Despite the exhaustion, I didn’t want to let Nadine out of my arms. But I was desperate for a shower. The hospital had given me an en suite bedroom, but I still paused before I stepped into the bathroom, watching Nadine sleeping in her cot. Should I wheel her in with me? I decided not to. She was safe and settled, and I’d only be a few feet away.
