Until about six years ago, I treated my menstrual cycle synonymously with my period. The only thing I was keen to align was the absence of my period and my next scheduled weekend away. For every social invite, I’d consult the proximity of the next dismissively scrawled ‘P’ in my diary before confirming my attendance.…

There’s a sliding scale of life on which a certain tipping point resets our years to start again in September, not January. Parenthood is a failsafe trigger.  ‘Hot girl summer’ was another missed headline on social media, exchanged for ‘hot mess summer’ in which I met Instagram’s idealised workouts in the sun with actual suitcase…

Astrid was facing me when I delivered her, lying on my side. I was only vaguely aware of my husband cutting her cord while we spent a few minutes alone, her against my chest, us against the world. Her first cry, like a geyser breaking surface, softened the tension of worry in my chest. There…

Four days after my last post (circa 18 months, one eventful twin birth and a global pandemic ago), my third trimester ended abruptly with the arrival of my twin girls. In many ways, I feel like my Never-Neverland of a fourth trimester is only now coming to close, so forgive me for only now reflecting…

Coming at you from Dubai (6 weeks into relocating), and with a 35-week twin bump so big I have to assume a pretty compromising position just to write this post at my desk! My babies are very nearly fully cooked – my OB here will allow them to stay put until 37 weeks if they…