Adoption is a good thing, it gives children a second chance of experiencing enduring family relationships when birth parents cannot care for them and no other reasonable options are available in the wider family.
You can prepare for nearly everything these days. You can revise, plan, organise, the lot. Only, annoyingly, one of the things you can't prepare for is, oh... just one of the biggest moments of your life.
I did not believe I had PND. My perception of the illness was based largely on the front page news stories about mothers harming themselves or their children and TV dramas that showed women with PND pushing their pram into the road.
Now my poor second daughter is, almost literally, banging on the door and ready to come into this world, and the billions of worldwide examples just can't stem my growing anxiety that I simply don't have enough love.
I have been told some horrific labour stories. Tales of three days worth of pain, mystery medical problems, blood, guts and gore. Women love to share, particularly when it comes to sharing their birthing stories. So far I have found two camps.
So here's the thing, it is almost six months since I gave birth to my daughter and it is glaringly obvious that she is ready to be weaned. 'Glaring' being the operative word because that is precisely what she is doing.
Childbirth is the most profound experience in a women's life. It is awesome, challenging, brutal, visceral, joyful, transporting, awful, deeply physical, incredible, powerful, at times, calm and in-flow, at other times all-consuming and over-whelming.
Well firstly, let me reassure you, it's very possible to fly with little ones and maintain your sanity, maybe even watch part of a movie and enjoy a glass of wine. There may be puke, there may be poo explosions, but you WILL survive.
Women in my family had warned me, spouted about peaches becoming spaniel ears and what have you, but I thought maybe it wouldn't happen to me. Perhaps it was a generational thing that - like perms and home owning - would basically pass mine by.
If childless people listened with any intensity to 90% of parents, the human race would be over within 100 years: most mums and dads don't just make it sound tough, it sounds like the worst thing that's ever happened to them.
Women after birth can look radiant and lovely, if they brush their hair, have a quick wash, put on some gloss and simply smile while holding their baby, but for most mothers that's the last thing on their mind.
Despite reading all the many books that well meaning friends cared to throw at me, I remained utterly oblivious to the fact that determination, desire and doggedness alone are not always enough to make breastfeeding happen.
Here are a few things we have discovered that might help you during those troubling times as well as a few luxuries that make the good times even better during those early days with your new baby.
Yes, Kate may be Royal. Yes, she may have a number of Royal advantages at her finger tips (that the rest of us don't) and, yes, she did look bloody gorgeous just hours after having her baby, but so the hell what?!
I hear your elder brother George is quite a big deal. My big sister, Freyja, is too. At least that is what it feels like sometimes. For a start, she had a baby book which is at least partly filled in. Mine is completely blank. I am not even sure if my parents have even opened it.
I was bloody lucky with my first son, he slept through the night from about 3.5 months and still does 12 hour stints now. People have often asked me for my secret to success and my reply? Er, I don't know, he just did it.