It’s normal to wish that your baby came with a snooze button, right? When I got pregnant, Will and I didn’t have a clue what we were signing up for. It turns out that there’s loads we weren’t warned about: 1) In the middle of the night you’ll be begging Siri for advice on getting your baby to sleep. (In case you’re wondering, whale music doesn’t work.) 2) If you make the mistake of going to a nightclub you’ll nod off, drool, and be woken up by an angry bouncer. 3) You’ll spend more time spooning your child’s cuddly donkey than your own boyfriend. 4) Communication with your other half will be via post-it notes on the fridge, mainly telling him to buy more milk. 5) Sex is something that happened in another dimension. But even if I feel like I’m waiting for my motherhood powers to come in the post, at least I’ve got Will. Our old life – festivals, sambuca shots, an actual sex life – might be a distant memory, but we can get through anything together, can’t we? At least that’s what I thought until, one day, Will walked out on us… If I’m on my own (apart from Siri, obviously) can I do this whole parenting thing? Or I am destined to lose my sanity one sleepless night at a time?