I’m silent, too scared to look at her.

“Trish, not enough people talk about the fact that the birthing process can be brutal. Some women go into a form of shock. They beat themselves up because they think they should be full of love for their new baby and they’re not, because they’re still trying to process what they’ve been through.”

I look at Leanne now. She sits so calmly and her expression tells me that nothing I say could disappoint or surprise her. It’s like she understands everything I’m going through and it’s OK.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

“I want you to focus on getting through the next few hours, Trish, that’s all. Don’t think about the future or worry if you’re getting it right or wrong.”

I nod.

“Right, let’s get you into that shower.”

I slowly sit up and swing my legs to the side, wincing as my tender parts press into the mattress. Leanne helps me to stand and I shuffle towards the bathroom. There’s a high-pitched newborn’s cry coming from outside my room. What if it’s my baby crying out for me?

“She’ll wait for you, Trish. She just wants her first feed.” Leanne gives a wry grimace. “Breastfeeding can be a challenge in itself, so have your shower and take a second to recover. You’ll only be a few minutes.” Striding into the bathroom, Leanne turns on the shower and hands me a towel. “I thought you might like to be on your own for this. Call out if you need any help.” She walks out, leaving the door ajar.

I avoid looking in the mirror and peel off my gown. Stepping into the shower, the hot water washes over my face and body and I start to feel a glimmer of light, of hope in my chest. Reaching for the soap, I look down at my swollen belly. You’d be mistaken for thinking a baby was still in there. But there isn’t, because I actually bloody gave birth. And I have a daughter. A beautiful, healthy little girl.

I quickly lather soap over my body and rinse it off, desperate to see my baby and hold her in my arms.

Before long, I’m lying in bed wearing my favourite pyjamas while an infant with an impressive head of dark hair (where on earth did that come from?) suckles at my breast. It took a few attempts to get her mouth to latch on to my nipple, but now she’s on, I don’t think she’s going to let go in a hurry.