As the Indian Doctor murmurs over my collapsed and invisible arm vein in an attempt to get in a line, I find myself hanging onto Doug’s hand. I’m not really a clinger. Throughout the deliveries of three beautiful children I felt like I stayed pretty much in the driver’s seat – excruciating in parts, yes, but out of my mind, no. Right now I’m clinging. And practically begging him for ice – the third time in only a few minutes – while my whole body seizes up. I’m trying to get

It’s difficult. But not as difficult as lots of other things in this life, on the whole.  So moving on. The upside is that I’ve taken off...