Four months ago, I lay in a hospital bed waiting to meet my baby. 

But I wasn’t in labour. Instead, I was surrounded by surgical staff and unable to see myself from the waist down, waiting for him to be cut from my womb. 

One odd thing about a planned caesarean section is that, however well prepared you feel you are, there’s still a split second where you realise you’re fully conscious and waiting for someone to slice you open.