I fell asleep last night in my usual way – with a baby suctioned firmly to my nipple. Five hours later I woke up in the exact same situation with those little lips determinedly pulsing away. I felt like I’d spent my night in a Saharan noon. It was all I could do to stagger out of bed and throw my face into the nearest container of water – a cup in the hallway that has been there who-knows-how-long. Dehydration, the new love.

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