‘Sleep? What’s that? Nah, it’s okay. While I’m still on paternity leave, I can catch up in the day tomorrow. I’ll go and make myself useful with the kettle. I can’t feed the baby, can I?’

Adam pads downstairs, Dug at his heels. Carefully I climb back into bed, holding Harry as though he is the most precious thing in the world.

And he is.

Nervously, I undo the buttons on my pyjama top, feeling I haven’t done this before, but of course some version of me must have because there’s no way a baby could cry as loudly as Harry without being healthy and well fed.

‘Here you go, little one.’ I draw Harry hesitantly to my breast but that’s all I need to do because he latches on all by himself. I rest back on my pillows and gaze in wonder at the rapid sucking movement of his cheeks.

Harry.

He’s named after my grandad and for the first time I have a prickle of doubt. Would Adam have picked that name?

‘Too wizardy.’ He really wasn’t keen. Is this my dream?

But I don’t think it is. Harry is dressed in a white sleepsuit with ‘Future England Player’ printed on it in red. Probably another gift from Josh. In my ideal world, my baby wouldn’t be wearing this. There wouldn’t be a puppy in the same room as my newborn, in the same house even.

I’m still feeling an odd sense of vertigo. Exhausted in a way I haven’t felt before but I don’t close my eyes for a second. I can’t stop looking at Harry. Counting his tiny fingers. Marvelling at his paper-thin nails. His eyes roll and his mouth slackens, milk dribbling down his chin. I shift my weight slightly and he is wide awake again, feeding once more, until his eyelids begin to flutter again. He is dozing by the time Adam returns with our drinks. Soon he is fast asleep. I fumble with my pyjama buttons with one hand and the movement wakes him. His eyes lock onto mine but he doesn’t cry.

‘Hey, little man. I’ve waited such a long time to meet you,’ I say, softly running my index finger across his tiny fist. He wraps his finger around mine and holds it firmly. He is surprisingly strong. I know if Adam were to turn the lights off, I would be glowing with happiness. Harry tightens his grip as though he’s telling me he loves me. His mouth flickers into a smile before it becomes a grimace, his face turns beetroot. There’s the sound of him emptying his bowels and the smell… Let’s just say he takes after Adam.

‘Nice one, son. Pass him here and I’ll change his nappy.’ Adam holds out his arms.

‘I want to do it.’ I want to do it all.