Yes, I know what you're thinking. Another blog about the ridiculous cot death plot, how insulting it is to those who have actually suffered in this way, how they have missed a chance to cover a serious issue in a helpful way, how they have portrayed post natal women as hormonal nutters, and how in reality such baby swapping behaviour would result in a lifetime sectioned under the mental health act, but in soap land it will probably all be forgiven after a public apology in the Vic and a couple of weeks in Marbella. And so on. Actually, this post isn't going to be about that. Sorry. Do you feel misled, but only in a small way? Good, because that is precisely what this post IS going to be about. Before I had my first child, I was blissfully unaware of what life with a baby had in store for me. I had a vague idea of how it would go, though, and I think in retrospect that I was mostly getting my information from Eastenders. On Eastenders, and I'm ...