We’ve been talking about birth plans in the midwife appointments. These sorts of plans include words that you never think about until you have to have a baby, for example placenta, episiotomy and pethidine. I can think of some nicer plans, involving things that I have some semblance of control over. The plan goes like this:

After giving birth to my beautiful baby, and having that crucial skin to skin contact, I think I might be hungry. I will promptly tuck into some fresh sushi complete with all the raw fish I couldn’t eat while pregnant. I’m sure the sushi bar opened nearby purely to meet this need. This sushi will be washed down with a glass of champagne. Later, I will tuck into a bowl of hot chips with fresh aoli, made with real eggs – salmonella be damned, and maybe some shell fish or soft cheese.

Now that my appetite is sated, I will sleep for many hours without my bladder competing for space with a wriggly baby. The next morning, feeling fully refreshed after the long sleep, I will slip into my pre-pregnancy jeans before leaving the hospital with one darling tucked safely in my arms and the other two at my side.

Is that too much to ask? Ignoring the facts that my maternity jeans had more wear after, rather than during the last pregnancy, I’m not sure that I’m allowed champagne in the hospital and a full night’s sleep is going to be a very long way off.

I think I will just settle for a safe delivery and healthy baby to boot. That’s my plan.