Once Charlotte is burped and fully awake I decide that a banana is not going to be enough this morning. Sometimes when I’m in pain I am so unbelievably nauseous that food is the last thing on my mind, but today I am craving something sweet.

Knowing there is no way my arms will have the strength to carry Charlotte around the house I tie her to me with one of the Moby carriers Liam bought. Not only did he buy one in every colour to match my outfits, he also bought hip carriers and back carriers of all sizes, Charlotte is going to be carried in style for a few years.

It helps me be hands-free too. Using the banister on the stairs is one of the only ways I can get down, well I could bump down the stairs on my arse, but the shock to my spine would probably not be welcomed. Having Charlotte on my chest means I can grip the banister on one side and support more weight against the wall with the other.

Having no stairs when Jack was born was super helpful, that was until I had to leave the flat and had to go down two flights of rickety steps. These solid wood stairs with a plush carpet runner are a lot less scary.

Everything about the postnatal life has been a lot less scary this time not just because of how great Liam has been but because I am a different type of parent now. I am stronger. I have a village to lean on and my past mistakes to learn from, fear just doesn’t cripple me the way it did.

By the time I am plating some waffles I hear tiny footfalls behind me and turn to see Jack wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“Morning, bud.”

“Morning Mum, morning Lottie.” He yawns wide, clearly not ready to be up and about.

I know he will be more awake once he has eaten so I give him the first plate of waffles, making more for myself. I watch with a smile as he picks his fruit and honey as toppings while mine cook.

“How about once we’ve eaten we jump back in the big bed and watch the big TV?” I will get to spend time with Jack and rest my body as much as I can while Liam is training. Perfect.

“Can we watch cartoons?” he asks sceptically.

“Sure thing, bud.” I laugh.

“Yesssss!” He pumps his fists in the air like he just scored the winning goal at the Stanley Cup finals.

He starts to shovel the waffle into his face while I plate my own up. I pick chocolate sauce for the top because there is a deep need for sugar in my blood today.