My sister had her second child yesterday, so I am now an Aunty again. I sat in bed last night feeling fat, tired and miserable (bad day at work and the Boy is away) and gave her a call.
She sounded sickeningly calm and happy. She had a c-section (for medical reasons rather than because she is too posh to push - although she is of course!), and seemed to be perky, rested, and generally quite pragmatic about the whole thing.
I, on the other hand, will be a blithering mess crying in pain and demanding champagne.
We're not very alike me and my sis.