I have had a baby. I know this because my doctor sent me a letter to tell me so. I have not yet met my baby, and was until this point unaware of her existence, but as the letter urging me to register her birth assures me, there is in fact a new addition to my family. I am overjoyed.
Having received my notification, which at first filled me with fear due to both its liberal use of comic sans and because I misread it as a congratulations on my pregnancy, which I thought was a cruel and unusual way to alert me to my new state, I now know the best contraception post birth, and when baby needs her vaccinations – both of which are invaluable to the mother of a newborn, which I have fully accepted is what I am.
The only questions I have now are as follows: Why don’t I remember my pregnancy? Why did David’s mother encourage me to drink wine over Christmas? And, most importantly, has anyone seen what I did with my child?
It’s a beautiful thing, the mind. Amazing what it makes us forget.
Please note: I have not had a baby (unless I actually have and have had my memory wiped in which case please help me I am a new mother and my child has gone). I HAVE got an awkward phone call to make to my GP on Monday to update my files. Oy with the poodles already!