She kisses me goodbye on the corner, and I stand on the pavement watching as she skips into school, her ponytail bouncing, each stride of her long legs taking her further away from me, further from the empty arms hanging uselessly by my sides.

My first baby has just turned nine, and this is how it is now. Almost a decade into motherhood, I’m standing at the end of the street, watching from the outside in. Teetering on the oh-so-fine line between being needed and… not. 

It’s true what the old ladies tell you as your newborn screams for a feed in...