Call the midwife.

One of my earliest memories is the birth of my sister Caroline. As soon as my dad had left for work, one of my other siblings was despatched down the road to fetch my Auntie Bet and to call the midwife (in that order). Someone no doubt called out for some hot towels then, very shortly afterwards, I was allowed into the front bedroom to see my new baby sister. It’s now almost obligatory for fathers to attend births but my mum was old school. She didn’t want him there so, knowing she was actually in labour, she still kept quiet till he’d gone. Caroline is celebrating a big birthday today and everyone has loved her from that day to this. When she was born, this record was in the charts and it’s so appropriate. The Minute You’re Gone, my mum practically said to my dad, I’m going to give birth.