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Nothing prepared me for the loss of my mother. Even knowing that she would die did not prepare me.

My natural mother died one month after I was born, apparently due to giving birth at an advanced age.

My mother giving birth to me was just like Lady Sybil giving birth, except that there wasn't such a tragic ending.

In the seventeenth year of my age my mother died.

I was darkly convinced that at age 52 I would kill myself because my mother committed suicide at that age. I was fantasizing that she was waiting for me on the other side of the grave.

My birth was managed so rottenly that my mother had eventually to have a hysterectomy, after which she was ill off & on till she dies for obscure reasons when I was just 7.

As a child, my mother had instilled in me a feeling of being born for a purpose.

My mother had a very difficult childhood, having seen her own mother kill herself. So she didn't always know how to be the nurturing mother that we all expect we should have.

My sister died and my mum was really distant, as you do - you don't expect your offspring to die before you. I thought I was bulletproof up until that stage.

My father's death, my move, and my frightening and difficult delivery created a tremendous amount of stress, pain, and sadness for me. I was practically devastated beyond recovery.