I’m truly delighted and deeply grateful for the response to my book "What is My Child Telling Me, That I’m Not Getting…..Yet?"

The stories, reflections, and heartfelt messages that have poured in—mostly from mums—have been nothing short of moving. So many have told me how the book opened their eyes, not only to their child’s cues but to their own birth story and early childhood. It’s been humbling and affirming.

But here’s something interesting—and just a bit cheeky!

A number of dads have proudly told me they ordered the book… and then gave it straight to their wives to read.

Now, hold on a minute. What’s that about?

When it comes to giving birth, every woman deserves to feel empowered, informed, and supported. But time and time again, I hear stories from women who felt led—not by intuition or understanding—but by fear and outdated narratives.

"I booked my C-section as soon as I found out I was pregnant. Too many of my friends had traumatic births that ended in emergency sections."

These aren’t just casual comments—they’re reflections of deep societal conditioning and fear-driven beliefs passed down through generations. But we need to ask… safe according to whom? And where is the balanced information that includes both the benefits and the risks?

I remember often hearing the phrase, "Smile – it might never happen!" as a little girl. I didn’t really understand what it meant, but I do remember how it made me feel—awkward, confused, and just a little bit ashamed.

People would comment that I was “a serious child” or “too sensitive.” My mother, often within earshot, would explain to others that I was “highly strung.” These descriptions stuck. And they stung.

Looking back, I realise now these comments were more than throwaway lines. They were forms of objectification. Labels. Misunderstandings.

As a mum of three grown children in their late 20s and early 30s, I find myself facing something I never really prepared for.

I’ve completed countless professional courses over the years—many with certificates proudly displayed—but nowhere in the curriculum was there a module titled: Empty Nest Syndrome 101. Or “Mum Now Surplus to Requirements”. If there had been, I might have paid more attention.

As a parent, have you ever felt a little afraid of your own child?
Not in a dramatic sense, but in those quiet moments where their intensity, unpredictability, or overwhelm seems... a bit too much?

If you’re nodding quietly right now—you’re not alone. I’ve seen this more times than you might think.

The instructor was showing the children how to use those bright, floaty pool noodles—sliding them behind their shoulders and under their arms so they could lean back, rest their heads, and kick their legs freely in the water. A simple enough movement, you’d think.

But several children visibly struggled. Can you guess why?

From the moment a baby is born, they seek closeness. It is not just a preference—it is a biological necessity. We are designed to keep our infants close. Even while we sleep, our bodies instinctively monitor, nurture, and respond to our babies. This proximity is not just about comfort; it is fundamental to their survival, brain development, and emotional security.