It's not easy being perfect. No, really, it isn't. It's pretty darn impossible in fact.

No matter how hard you try, before you have your baby, you assume he or she is going to be perfect. Everything will be perfect. Any flaws or bad habits are going to go right out the window in the face of motherhood. Your growing bump and everything it represents becomes a mirror to your true self and you start frantically reapplying make-up and smoothing down the frizz of your life with a damp palm in anticipation of his or her arrival.

And then suddenly, your little package dive-bombs into your life with a wonderful splash and it all flies out the window. Over the next few months your little mirror shows you both the best and worst versions of yourself over the course of any one day, and three guesses which version sticks in your memory. Sometimes things just don't go to plan. Even when you didn't realise you had a plan.

Brace yourselves - I'm going to share my breastfeeding story. Every mum has one and this is mine. Bean fed really well from the offset - after about 30 seconds in the world, she popped herself on and had a good old glug. A bit of a learning curve was required for it to come naturally, but she was soon off and away. I should have (yep, there it is) been pleased. The thing is, I was pretty zoned out for a good few days after the labour. I won't go into details but it was loooooong (we're talking days here) and pretty traumatic in the end. After such an ordeal, I desperately craved some time to recover, but there was this lovely brand new little baby, needing me completely and I just had to grab the bat and step up to the plate. We just existed, together. As a person who values her own headspace to maintain balance in life, I found it so difficult to suddenly not even have ten minutes to myself.