It was 2am and your baby, Freya, was once again awake. She was 16 days old now. Cute as a button, big brown eyes and soft blonde hair. But a set of lungs on her.

She wailed in the cot in beside your bed. Both you and Simon waking up feeling groggy. You’d give anything to sleep more than three hours a night.

“I’ll handle her.” you whisper. Knowing she would want feeding, she was forever hungry.