Pregnancy hormones are a very odd thing

I am, of course, flooded with them, though I’m a bit less rabidly psychotic than I was a couple of weeks ago. At the moment, they’re taking the form of apocalyptic fantasies – and not fun ones. I seem to be spending all my time worrying about something terrible happening, and Daisy being left all alone to cope with it. What am I thinking, bringing children into the world, when within their lifetime the odds are, the sea levels will rise, most of the land will be flooded, the oil will run out, and the world will descend into anarchy and open warfare over the production of food and drinking water, never mind anything else?

And if that doesn’t happen, some massive terrorist thing will come along and wipe out half the city/country/continent, creating a similar post-apocalyptic survival situation for her. The world’s going to hell in a handcart, and poor Daisy will have to survive in it. And there’s nothing I can do to protect her, except get cavity wall insulation. And some cavity walls to put it in.

I may need to monitor my media input a little more carefully. I’m not sure I’m doing myself any favours by listening to Radio 4 at the moment.