When I was 10 my mum had twin boys. I spent much of my childhood smelling of baby sick, feeding, winding, and changing my brothers’ nappies. I have no idea when they were weaned—Mum used her judgment. We scooped mashed-up food into the yelling mouths; they like buttered potatoes and gravy best. We were skint, so there were no processed baby foods. My brothers have spent the rest of their lives borrowing money and drinking my beer. I was used to having babies and children around. So I was bemused when my pregnant …