Sometimes knowledge can be a bad thing. Reading undoubtedly broadens the mind and I'm a big advocate, but some things you just don't want to know about. Like TTTS for instance. There are your babies, happily tucked up in their mummies cosy tummies, probably snuggling together and keeping each other warm, with just the smallest slightest infinitesimal chance that one is slowly draining all the life from the other until, having grown excessively, it too dies. Twin to Twin Transfusion syndrome is real and it's scary, especially to expectant parents, and it comes as a real shock when you are informed of the risks. Only affecting babies who share the same blood supply, it's a serious situation that has to be monitored carefully during pregnancy. Couple that with being an older mum, and having had a first child with Spina Bifida, and Debbie was regularly hooked up to all manner of bleeping machines while all sorts of consultants and specialists smeared her belly with cold blue gel and gazed at grainy monitors with furrowed brows.

Every two weeks measurements were taken of each embryo and nerves were shredded waiting to hear whether one embryo was outgrowing the other. This became a regular manicurists nightmare for both of us. And especially hellish for me, what with my funny turns whenever I hear someone say anything even vaguely medical. Afterwards we'd scrutinise the results, comparing the measurements with the previous ones and looking for any clues that the highly trained, highly specialised medical experts at UCL might have missed. What did these people know anyway with their years of study and their banks of high tech, highly expensive, hyper sensitive ultra-sound equipment, compared to an accountant and a recruitment consultant armed with a plastic ruler and a £4.99 Rymans calculator?