It’s Monday evening and I’ve barely slept the last few days. Iz has had a couple of good nights, but my mind just doesn’t switch off sometimes.

Iz is asleep now. It’s just gone 9pm and I should really try to sleep too — especially after only a few hours last night and just two the night before. But… Iz starts nursery this week. I can only assume that’s what’s stopping my brain from shutting down. It does this at times.

The fears creep in.

What if they don’t tell me properly about her poos?

What if she silently chokes again and they don’t realise?

What if she develops a stricture or blockage and I’m not there?

I remember my son going to his childminder for the first time — the anxiety sitting heavy in my chest. And then when he started nursery, too. I’ve always been an overprotective mum anyway, but after everything Iz has been through, the fear feels amplified.

I am absolutely terrified.

But she will be fine.

She is so ready.

And maybe, in time, I will be too and hopefully, like her bro she’ll thrive there!