This was real. No way out. Why had she watched it?

Antenatal Sally was still talking. Something about birth plans and what you should pack in your hospital bag.

‘Take plenty of make-up, darling,’ Antonia whispered. She didn’t look as if she was joking.

‘Did you just watch the same film as me?’ Jenny whispered back.

‘That sweaty woman looked horrific, sitting there holding the baby while her husband took photographs. Those pictures are going to be looked at for the rest of their lives. I do not want to look like that in mine.’

Jenny looked from Antonia to Naomi to Antenatal Sally and then back again. Were all of these women insane? Screw breathing, bouncing on big balls and make-up. The only thing that might get you through that experience was a whole load of alcohol. Could you pack vodka in your hospital bag?

A birth plan, though. That sounded good. Writing, at least, was something she knew she could do.

When Jenny began the birth plan that evening, however, Dan was less than enthusiastic. ‘Can’t we just wait and see how it goes?’

Clearly, he hadn’t been listening to Antenatal Sally. If they didn’t get this written properly, who knew what might happen? ‘We need to tell the medical staff what we want.’

Dan’s expression was pained. ‘Can’t we just ask them to do what they usually do?’

Jenny told him to sod off and leave her to write it on her own, then wrote a beautiful two-page birth plan. That felt better.

Next up, a blog post about the antenatal class. Ruth, Gail, Antonia and Naomi might not be Jenny’s first choice in friends, but the class itself had provided material for a decent blog. She was still miffed at Dan’s comment that she was now ‘one of them’, but nevertheless it would be useful to stay in contact with the other four women after the birth. She’d swapped numbers before they left that afternoon, and had arranged to meet up with Ruth for a decaf coffee and full-fat cake next week. Now she just needed to write the blog in a style that would get Eva on board.

She sat back in her chair. Antenatal class completed. Birth plan written. Blog page set up and ready to go. All that was left was for the baby to arrive and, despite the scary video, she felt a lot more prepared now than she had been before the class. What else was she going to need? A birthing ball, a TENS machine, a back massager and some oil. Maybe even one of Naomi’s ‘wild-birthing’ type books.

It was all going to be okay.

Chapter Six

Packing a bag for the hospital is something I spent way too much time on. Paper knickers? They might be fine for paper dolls, but a woman whose backside needs its own postcode has got no chance of pulling them on. I even packed snacks in case I got peckish during labour. Snacks! I’d have been better off packing a bottle of gin and a klaxon to get the attention of the elusive consultant on the labour ward.

There is a conspiracy to not talk about the realities of childbirth. Admittedly, I didn’t want the horror stories, but I wish someone could have warned me how it might go. How ridiculously smug were my plans to be walking around the room, stopping only to allow my husband to rub my back with a wooden massage roller and tell me how amazing I am.