I’m a single mum trapped in yummy mummy Notting Hill – but it’s not really my scene. I’m still wearing baggy jumpers nine months after having a second baby and even my dog’s grooming bill is 10 times higher than mine. I’m breastfeeding and starving hungry – I keep stuffing my face with chocolate and bananas. I never snapped back into shape after the first one, despite trying out the clean eating fad.
So how did I end up in this predicament? I definitely hadn’t envisaged falling in love with a man, who would die, while we were in the middle of doing IVF.
