FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE MIEKA SMILES.

BABY mania has hit. Everywhere I turn there either seems to be a newborn sproglet, a pregnant woman or chatter about who is planning on having one next. In fact, in the last month alone, three of my close friends have popped out their little ones.

At the age of 27, a few have suggested that I'm perhaps a bit too young to be worrying about having kids. However, the age/fertility chart seems to suggest otherwise, showing that from the age of 24 your chances of conceiving are in surprisingly quick decline.

All things considered, and after almost two years of marriage, the question of babies has been brought into sharp focus for my husband and I. We have agreed that - as soon as the circumstances are right - we would both like a little one to call our own. So imagine my surprise when I was recently told, by a virtual stranger I hastened to add, that I was in fact deluding myself and that motherhood was the very last thing I wanted.

"So why is that then?" I asked quite clearly perturbed and more than a little annoyed.

"It's because you, my dear, are a baby restrictor," replied the self-styled psychologist.

A baby restrictor? No, I didn't have the foggiest either. But, after a 15-minute lecture, I was soon to find out exactly why this was indeed the case.

If I truly wanted to be a mum, she said, then I wouldn't be letting silly little things like finances or career get in my way.

Apparently, I am using my circumstances as an excuse not to have a baby because, deep down, I'm not sure that I actually want one.

The next day I regaled my colleagues about the cheek of this smug stranger.

But, after a little more time to reflect, the truth is that she may have hit a bit of a raw nerve.

I am so ridiculously clumsy I'm convinced that, if we were actually blessed with a baby, I would almost certainly damage it. There is not a day that goes by that I don't bash myself on a table or whack myself off a door. And at least once a month I have an accident which leaves me bleeding profusely.

What's to say I would suddenly change once I had a baby? The other night my worries were compounded with an awful dream. In my dream I had a baby and, despite the creepiness of it being able to talk at just a few days old, I loved it dearly.

Unfortunately I was struck with panic after the baby communicated that I hadn't fed it for several days. I woke up in a cold sweat. So. Before we do go for it as it were, I've decided it might be for the best if we have a bit of a practice run with a borrowed baby. All I need to do now is find a willing participant for my little experiment. Shouldn't be too hard, should it? .. Find out more about the ups and downs of Mieka and Chris's marriage on her blog at www.journallive.co.uk/blog