Most people have nine months to adjust and get their heads around the arrival of a child. There are so many milestone moments, feelings and watching scans as the baby grows and develops.

Nurseries planned, waistbands gradually expand.  A ridiculous amount of money spent on things that you never use. Honestly, babies do not need shoes!

As someone coming into a single parent unit, I did not have a fricking bloody minute to adapt. It had already happened. Rotas had been drawn up, custody agreements reached, civil conversations between two parents. It is shit your pants terrifying.

Saturday arrived. D-day. 10am was fast approaching. I was close to nerve induced vomiting. This was the day I was going to finally going to meet the little ones.

Not one for being composed and rational, nervous tension and anxiety swamped my body. Major stress head. I went to the toilet so much I was close to dehydration. This was worse than any first date nerves with someone you fancy.

Perfect behaviour chip installed, swear word button switched off, I was going to try and keep the crazy in. Highly unlikely as I am a fucking disaster zone.

Even when I was a teacher, I failed to control my cuss. One time, whilst driving the school minibus with my college students, I nearly ran over a cat. No, I was not aiming for it. Fortunately, only a minority heard me curse ‘shit the bed!’

Then again, I did manage to crash said minibus whilst reversing straight into a car I had not realised was behind me. This time they all managed to hear the resulting ‘oh, for fucks sake’. All burst out laughing. Arseholes.

The front door towered in front of me. Honestly, I was shaking all over, fight or flight responses kicked in. I did not know whether to stay, bolt or crap myself. Worst first date nerves ever!

I knocked. It sounded like I was calling the hounds of hell as my soon to be boyfriend opened the door. He very kindly pointed out that I looked greener than pond weed and a sick bucket put together. Somehow, I did not feel reassured.

Encased by the hallway, I looked up the stairs drawn in by the sounds of children playing. Well, more the start of conflict as they were arguing over who owned a certain gel pen.

A firm and not so gentle hand guided me upstairs towards the playroom whilst my first date nerves were out of control. Was it too early for a shot? Apparently so, damn it!

Then I saw their beaming faces and I could not help but melt. They were adorable. Obviously, at that point, I had not endured the early morning wake up calls, sickness bugs and resulting new mattresses. Plus, the elephant sized turds left in the toilet bowl.

A flurry of successive questions followed to the point of feeling I was in the quick fire round on a gameshow. It was all playful fun but, with hindsight, I should have prepared a factsheet!

A certain board game was chosen involving a semi naked man (bear with me) ready to be operated on, a pair of tweezers, small plastic organs, and a red buzzer for a nose. If you have ever played this game, it requires dexterity, a very calm, steady hand. At this precise moment, I had zero.

Fuck me. I turned that horrendous red button on more times than a vibrating sex toy in a brothel. I was useless. Did not even get one organ safely removed from his guts without sending him into a fit!

So, for the big day out, the cinema was proposed.

Excellent idea. Would give me time to settle down and the perfect excuse to watch a kids film.

When you are on your own at a cinema, you do get strange looks queuing up for an animated movie without any children. I have no idea why! All I wanted to know was if the clown fish was ever found.

Unfortunately, the idea was vetoed. Shite. I could feel the tide rising as the next level of game play was suggested.

A petting farm. The mix of children and animals. I mean, what was the worst that could happen?