Cast of thousands

Okay, so I'm in the final stages of labour, sweating and panting just like the movies:
 

Suddenly it occurs to me that there is a huge crowd of people in the room: my two midwives, a student midwife, the hospital midwife, my mother, my partner, the registrar, a trainee doctor, and three people from the paediatric team.  Kind of like this:

If I'd known so many people were going to be spectators at my birth, I would have gotten a bikini wax.

Why?

Why a blog?  Unsure.  A place to share my musings and ramblings I guess, without:
(a) the awkwardness of a polite laugh I might get from one of the mums in my antenatal group
(b) boring my husband to tears
(c) the bewildered look I get from from my younger sister when describing a recent parenting challenge (eg, number threes)
(d) backchat and opinions that I must feign interest in from friends/family who have already been there/done that.

A small, deluded part of my preggy/postpartum brain is secretly hoping this blog will make me famous (a la Julie and Juliet).  Luckily I'm in control of my faculties enough to know that this is a delusion and will pass, in time.

This is my way of connecting with the world, just a little "hello, I'm here and I've got a few things to say".  Hence the title No Mum is an Island.  It is my hope that this blog may (I repeat, MAY) allow my brain to thrive while I am in a haze of baby-induced isolation from the real world.

So, here goes nothing.