We'd been debating for weeks between "Julia", "Laura", and "Marta". The big day arrived on Tuesday 25th April, and here is my daughter at about 2 hours old, looking like a hairier Churchill during one of his famous naps. Yesterday I filled out the form to get her name (and existence) registered (this can't be done in Spain until 24 hours have passed following the birth, a law which harks back to the time when sadly, fewer babies than now made it past the 24hr mark), and this morning I sat for two hours in a waiting room with the form in my hand. So born on Tuesday, she doesn't start legally to exist until Thursday. I entered the office, handed over the form. "Everything seems to be fine here," the woman said. "But there is just one thing missing, and it's rather important...what's it to be?" I took a deep breath. "Laura," I said, and, sleeping in a clinic on the other side of Madrid, she suddenly became a part of everything.