'I'm coming in there with you to hold your hand and that's the end of it.' Mum crossed her arms.

'No, it isn't, Mum,' I said firmly.

'For goodness' sake, Louise, for once in your life stop trying to do everything alone. Let me help you.' Mum was exasperated.

'I am letting you get involved! You're here in the hospital with me. I just don't want a crowd in the operating theatre.'

'Having your mother with you is not a crowd!' Mum snapped.

'I can't listen to any more of this. I'm off to get a cup of coffee. Call me when the baby's born.' Dad disappeared out of the door.

'Mum, Louise isn't trying to hurt your feelings,' Sophie reasoned. 'She doesn't want me there either. She only wants one person and that's going to be Julie. We'll be right outside the door. You'll see the baby as soon as it's born. Come on, why don't we get a nice latte and see if we can spot any celebrities? We'll leave Louise to rest for a bit.'

'I'm only trying to help,' Mum said, beginning to get upset.

'I know you are,' I assured her, 'and I'm really grateful that you came over.'

Sophie led her expertly out of the room and away for coffee. As my youngest sister turned to close the door, I mouthed, 'Thank you,' to her. Then, to Julie, I cried, 'Mum's a nightmare. I should never have let her come over.'

'Go easy on Mum, Lou. She's emotional about the baby. She's worried about you not having any male support. Don't be so hard on her. Let her in a little.'

'I will. She can hold the baby as much as she wants when it's born. I just don't want her giving me instructions during the C-section. Is it too much to ask that at forty-one years of age I can give birth without my mother telling me what to do? I don't want her in there winding me up. I promise I'll let her be involved later.'

'Fair enough.'

Tom started pressing the buttons on the baby-heart monitor.

'Actually, Julie, I'm sorry to be a pain, but can you take Tom out? I'd really like to chill out for a while.'

'Sure, no problem. I'll give you all the space you need. I'll grab a coffee and come back at eleven and I promise not to say a word to you during the birth.'

'Thanks. Tell Mum '

'You're sorry for being a cold-hearted wench? OK, I will.' She grinned.

At eleven thirty I was wheeled out of my room and down to theatre. Mum cried as I left. Dad wished me luck and Sophie bent down to kiss my cheek. 'It's going to be great. Little girls rock,' she said.

Julie stayed outside and got into her scrubs while I was given the epidural. I laughed when I saw her coming in with her surgeon's outfit on. She looked hilarious.

'This is why I decided not to pursue a career in surgery the uniform does nothing for me.' She twirled.

'Very wise decision,' I agreed.

'I find the stay-at-home-mum tracksuit is far more flattering.' She giggled.

'Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but we're ready to begin. Louise is about to become a mother,' Jonathan Bakewell, my obstetrician, announced. And he began to cut.

'Are you OK?' Julie asked, squeezing my hand.

'Fine.'

'Nervous?'

'No.'

Excited?'

'Um ...'

'Emotional?'

'Julie!'

'OK, no more questions. I'll be nervous, excited and emotional for you.'

After a lot of rummaging about and pulling and heaving, I heard a cry. It was like a kitten mewing. Julie started bawling, drowning the sound.

'Congratulations, Louise, your beautiful baby girl has arrived.' Jonathan handed the baby to the midwife, who placed her on my chest. My baby was covered in bloody grey gunk. I looked at her and felt ... nothing.

I didn't know what I was supposed to do. Was I supposed to kiss her through the gunk? I didn't move. The midwife came over and lifted the baby up. 'Why don't I clean her and get her all snug for you?'

'That would be great, thanks,' I said.

'Oh ... my ... God ... Lou ... she's ... just ... huh ... huh ... huh ... beautiful,' Julie sobbed.

'Go and tell the others.' I wanted a moment alone. I needed to process what had just happened.

I closed my eyes, blocking out the noises around me. Was it normal to feel nothing? Did other new mothers want their babies taken away and washed? Was it terrible that I didn't want to kiss her little head through all the goo? But, then, wouldn't it have stuck to my mouth? Was I weird? Was I a freak? I felt completely numb. I waited for emotion to overwhelm me ... Nothing.

The baby was handed back to me wrapped in a pink towel. She was clean and her eyes were open.

I looked down at her. 'Hello, Clara Rose Devlin. I'm your mum,' I introduced myself. She blinked. I held her face to mine and felt relief that she was healthy, pleased that she was safely out and that I was no longer pregnant, but no heart-stopping adoration, no rush of love, no breathless worship. Mostly I just felt tired and sore. Clara sighed and fell asleep on my shoulder.

I was wheeled out and my family descended on me again. Mum and Sophie were crying and even Dad had a tear in his eye. Julie was still bawling and trying to explain to a worried Tom that they were 'happy tears'. Gavin had arrived. He bent down to hug me. 'Well done, sis. It's official. You've gone over to the dark side now. You're a mum!'

Mum pulled him back. 'Now, let me see this little dote. Can I pick her up?' she asked me.

'Of course,' I said, as Julie gave me the thumbs-up.

Mum picked up Clara and held her close. She cooed at her, rocked her gently and kissed her cheeks. 'Oh, Louise, she's just perfect and she's the image of you.'

'How can you tell? She's all red and scrunched up.' Gavin snorted. 'Maybe she looks like her father.'

There was a deathly silence.

'Shit, sorry,' Gavin apologized.

'The baby looks like Louise and that's the end of it,' Dad hissed.

God, I hope she does look like me, I thought. If she looks like her father, it'll be the elephant in the room for the rest of her life.

'She's perfect, Lou,' Sophie said, patting her eyes with a tissue. 'I'm thrilled for you.'

I was wheeled off to Recovery, where I passed out for an hour. Then I was taken back to my room where my family were waiting. Mum was cradling Clara. I was given tea and toast. The food tasted great and I was enjoying every bite ... until the midwife came in and asked if I was breast-feeding.

'No,' I said.

'Are you sure you wouldn't like to give it a go?' she asked.

'Yes.'

'It's very good for the babies.'

'Formula will be fine.'

'Breast is best,' she continued.

'Let me put it this way,' I explained. 'Hell will freeze over before I use my breasts to feed this child. For the past nine months I have put my body through things a body never should have to go through and I have no intention of having a child strapped to my nipples or milking myself with one of those God-awful expressing machines like some cow for another nine months. Clara will be having formula. OK?'

'Fair enough.' The midwife sniffed and rummaged around for a bottle. 'Would you like me to give the baby to you to feed?' she asked.

'No, thanks. Mum, would you mind feeding Clara for me?' I asked.

'I'd love to, Louise, but are you sure you don't want to do it yourself?' Mum looked shocked.

'No, I'd really like you to.' I took another large bite of my toast.

'Well, I'd be delighted.' She took the bottle and began to feed a hungry Clara.

'Nice one, Lou,' Julie whispered.

I'd like to say I was being generous to Mum, but I was happy to let her do it. I was exhausted and hungry and I didn't want to feed Clara. Not yet. I needed to get my energy back. Now that Clara was born, I was actually glad they were all there. I didn't want to be on my own with the baby. I'd read all the baby books out there, but now I wasn't sure what to do.

I watched Mum burping Clara. A stream of milk came back up and ran down Mum's shoulder. She patted Clara's back. 'Good girl that's a wonderful burp.'

I winced. I didn't want puked-up milk all over my clothes. I'd have to put those muslin cloths over my shoulders at all times.

Gavin yawned. 'Sorry, late night. Look, it's been great seeing the baby and all, but I can probably skip the feeding. I think I'll head off. Well done, sis, she's a cutie.'

'When are you off to Heathrow to camp out on your protest?' I asked him.

'Tomorrow.'

'Do you have a decent tent?' I enquired.

'Yeah, I'm sorted. Sophie gave me the cash to buy a really good one. It's quite plush, actually.'

'Sophie,' Dad snapped, 'you have to stop giving him money. He needs to learn to stand on his own two feet.'

'Relax, Dad, it was just a few quid to get a tent that doesn't leak.'

'Sophie's always had a very generous nature,' Mum said.

'Well, good luck, and if it all gets too much or you decide to see sense, you can stay in my spare room. Temporarily,' I offered. 'But your hairy unhygienic friends are not welcome.'

'Get it out of your system, son. This nonsense is all going to end soon,' Dad warned him.

'Good luck cohabiting in a tent,' Julie said.

'It'll be cool. Acorn's pretty chilled out.'

'She's not chilled out about her veganism. You won't be able to cook sausages on your camp fire,' Julie reminded him.

'I know.' Gavin groaned. 'It's back to pretending I actually like tofu and lentils but, hey, she's worth it.'

'What does this girl do when she's not hugging trees? What type of an education has she?' Mum asked.

'She's got a degree in chemistry. She's actually kind of a genius, like Louise,' Gavin said.

'It's hardly intelligent to live in a tent in a muddy field protesting against something that's inevitable,' Dad pointed out.

'That depends on your point of view and the Heathrow expansion is not inevitable. People power can change the world. You should consider getting involved in climate change instead of criticizing it all the time. Your precious golf course could be six feet under water soon if we don't do something about global warming.' Gavin was on a roll.

'Don't lecture me on '

'OK! Thanks, everyone, for coming,' I cut across Dad. 'It's been great having you here, but you can take the global-warming debate outside. I'm going to ingest some serious pain relief and hopefully get some sleep.' I suddenly felt as if I'd been run over by a bus. My eyelids felt like concrete. I was keen to sleep and, hopefully, to wake up tomorrow feeling less sore and more excited about my daughter.

'Come on, let her rest. The poor thing is exhausted.' Mum ushered Dad and Sophie out. She settled Clara back into her big plastic box beside the bed and kissed her head. 'What a beauty she is. Now, Louise, can I get you anything? Are you all right?'

'I'm fine, Mum, and thanks for feeding her. It was a great help.'

'I was delighted to do it. She's a gorgeous little baby. Try and get some sleep. I'd say she'll be up again in a few hours.'

'Do you want me to stay?' Julie asked.

I shook my head. 'Thanks, but I'm wrecked. I just want to sleep off the pain.'

'Ah, yes, I remember sleep vaguely.' Julie chuckled. 'I'll pop in tomorrow on my way to the airport. And well done again. She's just gorgeous.'

They left. I swallowed my painkillers, rested my head back against my pillows and passed out. Twenty minutes later I heard a wailing in my sleep. It seemed far away but got progressively louder. I forced my eyes open. It was Clara. She was thrashing about in her bassinet, legs and arms flailing. I tried to reach over, but the pain in my stomach stopped me in my tracks. I rang the bell frantically, and a nurse came running in. 'Are you all right?' she asked.

'The baby's having some kind of a fit.' I was panicking.

The nurse calmly picked Clara up and patted her back firmly. My daughter let out an enormous burp and fell straight back to sleep. 'You see?' the nurse said. 'It was nothing to worry about, just a bit of trapped wind. You'll soon be used to it they can get very uncomfortable with it.'

'Can you take her away, please?' I begged.

'Do you want her to spend the night in the nursery?'