Beck Vass, mum-of-two with one on the way, on the shock and elation of giving birth.

Our Prime Minister is in hospital. Quite possibly in the most pain of her entire life. And in that time, gripped by fear and excitement and uncertainty, she - or partner Clarke Gayford - had to think about not just calling the midwife and family, grabbing the baby bag and getting to hospital, but also informing government staff so that we, random New Zealanders they don't even know, could be in on the fact that she is about to give birth.

Firstly, can we take a moment to appreciate the generosity of that at this intensely personal time?

I've been asked to reflect on the 24 hours after giving birth and what she might expect.

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To all the people across social media saying, leave her alone, I agree with you. But you don't need to worry: she won't be reading this. She has more important things to do.

Secondly, please, can everyone just chill? Winston is not going to p*ss Jacinda off. She's going to be tired and emotional with absolutely no time for other people's bulls**t.

READ MORE: • Kiwi midwife on how long will it take for baby Ardern-Gayford to arrive

If he does anything stupid during the next six weeks, she's going to tear his throat out. With her teeth.

Clarke better watch it too. By crikey do the men in your life need to tread a careful line at this time. Nothing will make you hate a man more than giving birth to his child.

For me, it all began in the delivery suite at Tauranga Hospital.

I felt an instant empowerment and amazement at the female body and what it can do - and an instant bitterness towards my husband (and all men) for having it so "easy".

What do they do anyway? They get to have a good time, get a woman pregnant and then, what? Put up with me for nine months? (Credit where credit's due though - that can NOT have been easy).

I remember what it was like after we had our son, now 3. For almost four hours, I lay on the hospital bed, waiting for a decision to be made on whether or not I was going to theatre to have some remaining placenta removed.

Things had gotten a little scary in the final 10 minutes and my husband, who had watched as I was cut with a pair of scissors with no pain relief, began pestering me to name the baby.

You just saw a pair of scissors cut my private parts – something which didn't hurt because of the huge amount of pain I was already in - and now you're pushing me to make a decision our kid's going to be stuck with for life?

It was my second child and I had been complaining A LOT to my mum friends about my husband since the birth of our first kid two years earlier. So this was hardly surprising.

I'm yet to snip his balls without anaesthetic and ask him to make a lifelong decision, but I do daydream about it.

Oh how things had changed since the birth of our daughter, now 5.

In the hours after her birth, I was in utter shock. It still seems an odd thing to feel when we'd had nine months to expect it - especially as I was 12 days overdue.

But our girl's birth was fast. She arrived half an hour after we got to Tauranga Hospital.

I was instantly anxious. I couldn't sleep. I cried when my husband had to leave. I didn't want to be left alone with such a huge responsibility.

For me - and every woman will have a different experience - the 24 hours after giving birth were great physically. That may be why we got to see Kate Middleton so soon after her births.

I was wired on elation and joy, relief that the discomforts of pregnancy were over, highs from endorphins and adrenaline and the feeling of simply no longer being pregnant.

It was a few days later when I crashed and my body ached.

For a few days, tears poured down my face because I was sad or tired or happy, or because someone said or did something nice. I know plenty who didn't get the "baby blues" – or the high I got - as well.

I can't imagine our PM doing this, or tearing Clarke to bits, although we mums are all the same underneath it all.

But I still think she'll take Winston by the balls if she has to. Maybe even with a pair of scissors - apologies for the mental imagery.