When I was pregnant I was utterly terrified of being responsible for a tiny, floppy, mini human who could simply stop breathing. Plus, seemingly, billions of other Bad Things that could just happen. Once I’d brought him home as a newborn, I refused to sleep for days, intently watching his tiny chest rise and fall, straining to hear every snuffle, every murmur. I always meant to do a first aid course, having a hospital just five minutes up the road, there was no excuse not to. Alas, as it does, other things got in the way and it’s still something lingering on my to do list, years later. Having a partner who is a first aider, having worked in security for a number of years, saving people’s lives with stab wounds, head injuries etc, made me complacent quite frankly.