‘It sounds terribly techy, I don’t have a clue about all of that,’ Maggie said, her chirpy voice a comfort to me now. ‘We’ll miss him, but I suppose it can’t be helped.’ She paused to look me in the eye. ‘Are you okay, dear?’

‘Absolutely fine,’ I lied. ‘He’ll be here next week.’ And I took my seat.

When we had all settled into the same places as last time, Maggie began: ‘In today’s session, we’re going to act out a vaginal birth and also a caesarean section and then we’ll be talking about body awareness, breathing and massage.’

I watched Helen sip from an extra-large Caffè Nero cup and wished I’d thought of picking something up myself. How I missed my daily caffeine fix. If you gave me a pound for the number of times I’d hoped a barista would accidentally make it a proper coffee rather than decaf, I’d be handing over a piggy bank heavy enough to pay for a new deluxe iCandy stroller by now. Though I’d bet Helen was sipping something herbal.

‘Would anyone like to share if they are planning to go the caesarean route?’ Maggie asked. Her dark, piggyish eyes darted around the room expectantly.

I averted my eyes from hers and immediately thought of Mum. Lately I’d been thinking about her more than ever. As I saw my bump grow, resembling the colourful, inflatable beach ball I’d played with on childhood holidays in France, sometimes my whole body ached for her. There were so many questions I wanted to ask her, but would never get the chance.

Did she suffer the same debilitating morning sickness I had endured for the first sixteen weeks? Had she opted for the caesarean section birth, or was it an emergency? I remembered her showing me her faint scar, but I couldn’t recall the whole story and it bothered me that I hadn’t paid more attention. Perhaps the combination of the sickness and the C-section was why my mum had stopped at one child. After the sickness I had experienced, I didn’t blame her. Perhaps I would feel complete with one child too. Mum always led me to believe she couldn’t imagine loving any other child as much as she loved me, but I never knew if there was really another reason. All I knew was that I could be headed for a C-section too, but that at the end of the day did it really matter, because this baby inside me was so very wanted and so deeply loved.

Lucy was the only person who raised her hand. I clocked the empty seat next to her and it offered me a little comfort to see that she was also flying solo again today. ‘I’m electing for a caesarean,’ she said confidently. ‘It might seem controversial, but I have my reasons and I’m sure this is the right route for me.’ She folded her arms and sat back in her seat. I admired her ability to shut down a conversation.