This was one of Beck Vass' best columns of 2018
Life has a way of throwing the things you least expect at you, I pondered, as I sat in an anaesthetist's office at Tauranga Hospital with my three-year-old son groping each of my boobs, one after the other.
"Honk-honk" left, and "honk-honk" right. And again, repeatedly, as this intelligent, professional woman tried to explain the process of the c-section birth I am about to have in a matter of weeks.
My husband was going to come to this appointment but it's our third child and I wasn't bothered when he said had a work meeting.
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It was all made that much worse by the fact that said child had given me a cold which he of course had mostly recovered from but which I was in the thick of and, despite having had a good day the day prior, for some reason, at that moment, I had developed one leaky eye that wouldn't stop streaming.