Leading for Organisational Change

Chapter 1Once Upon A Time

Winter 2006. Early in the new year. The days short, grey and bitterly cold. And I was besotted. The first few months of my first son's life were a staggering love story. I couldn't get enough of his beautiful face, which changed every day and yet was constantly, uniquely and brilliantly him. Everything he did was fascinating. I would spend hours marvelling at all the potential condensed into his intense little body, and imagining a thousand bright futures for him. It was the most immense privilege to have played my part in his coming into the world, and I was both humbled and energised – I felt I could leap mountains for him.

The first few months of my first son's life were also a bracing roller coaster ride. Who was this demanding, noisy and irrational stranger? What had happened to my previously friendly body? Everything hurt or leaked. The house was a shambles and I was late for everything. None of the books talked about this. What was I doing wrong? There was also the teeth-grinding tedium of the routine. Eat, poo, sleep, repeat. My conversation shrivelled to repeating anecdotes from Radio 4's Women's Hour. My husband, family and friends were mysteriously replaced by irritating idiots.

Every day I would look at the clock convinced the day must be nearly over only to find it was barely lunchtime. I was sure a baby had felt like a good idea a year previously, but could not for the life of me remember why. I was very, very tired. I took a lot of ...