The spring before the pandemic, we went to Dungeness in Kent to stay with some friends. One blustery morning, Hazel and I walked up and down the desolate beach – nuclear power station in the distance, abandoned boats and buildings dotted across the shingles – debating whether or not to try to have a second child.
With the wind at our backs, we talked about why we shouldn’t – the difficulty of pregnancy, the loneliness of maternity leave, the challenge of doubling the number of people who relied upon us. We were both knackered already just with one – would we be able to cope with two?
