Edith Bowman

I've just come back from the Glastonbury festival and it was a stark reminder of what a difference a year makes. Last year around this time I was doing live television coverage of the festival 10 days after having a C section. Madness, I hear you say, but I think I was trying to prove a point, mostly to myself. The week leading up to the festival I was in tears most days, cursing myself for agreeing to such a huge challenge so soon after such a physical and emotional event.

What was I thinking and had I in fact been intoxicated when signing the contract? No, is the answer to these questions, because I think I knew then what I indeed know now, that, in hindsight, I'm so very glad we did it and it kind of set the bar and let my son know pretty early on the world he was coming into. That world is one in which we all work very hard, but make sure we work even harder to spend time together.

That can occasionally mean uprooting to various parts of the world. Glastonbury 2008 was a preview for what was to come and it wasn't until five months later that I got back in the saddle with my daily radio show.

I can't imagine going back to work after having a child is easy for any mother, or indeed father. To be honest, it was the furthest thing from my mind. I was just getting to know this little person that needed me to nurture and watch over him. The more I got to know him, the more it began to panic me that I was selfishly going to leave him with someone else five days a week. How could I do this, why was I doing this, was I going to miss out on all the things that I was looking forward to after having my little boy?

Don't get me wrong, I was actually excited about getting back to work, to almost re-establish who I am, or was, or should be. But with that excitement came apprehension, shame and anxiety and I didn't really prepare myself for how daunting returning to full-time work would be.

For the previous six months all I was really doing was occasionally sleeping but mostly breast feeding, changing, walking, cleaning. What the hell was I going to talk about for three hours a day, five days a week? What I didn't want to do was bore the listeners, regaling them with hints on nappy changing, sleep patterns and weaning. I think it's safe to say that my confidence had received an uppercut and was finding it hard to recover; that was before I even got on air.

Needless to say, simple things like pressing buttons took me minutes to familiarise myself with, catching up on the new music was a pleasure. It was more a kind of under-the-surface nervous twitch that I had; I wanted to keep it that way so that it was something I dealt with rather than pouring my fear on those around me.

To try and describe it physically, I'd say I was tender and incredibly vulnerable. I was used to reading the occasional negative text and email that arrived during the show and in the past I'd take them as constructive criticism. Now I saw them as personal attacks on me, attacks that would almost bring me to tears. Each day was really one step at a time, kind of like learning to walk again or character memory loss of who you once were and how you did this in the past. As the days passed, I did feel my confidence build and it did feel like the old Bowman was on her way back.

But something happened that literally knocked me sideways, full speed into a brick wall. I was honoured that I'd been asked to host an awards show in Scotland, a pretty big deal to me and also an opportunity for me to get myself out there, stand tall and unleash my swagger. I spent ages deciding on what to wear. It was a film event, so I decided to go down that old school Hollywood film star theme. I felt a million dollars as I graced the red carpet and made my way to the podium, my home for the night. It went incredibly well and I was inundated with compliments on my work and how well I was looking. I think I could have literally flown myself back to London.

What I wasn't prepared for was a very upsetting attack on how I looked from a few media outlets. I never normally take much notice of anything written about me - a lot of previous reports are comical to say the least. But this was different, and I found it incredibly upsetting. It made me cry, it made me angry and it really made me think twice about putting myself out there for public consumption. It made me wonder about moral standards in the media, where they can tell you that someone is too thin one week then highlight a tiny bit of cellulite the next.

I was curious if there was any thought or consideration for human emotion and, more personally, how that might make someone feel only a few months after having a baby. I understand that, being in my line of work, I am in the public eye and I have to put myself out there. Behind that, though, is just a person. A person who feels incredibly privileged, lucky to be in this position and a person who absolutely loves her job.

What have I learned from all this? Don't take any notice - it'll be someone else tomorrow - and focus on the things that are most important to you. In a way, I think I've come out the other side a much stronger person. I certainly don't cry myself to sleep over it.

Looking back on the past year, it's a bit of a blur, to be honest, but I can put my hand on my heart and say I've never been so deliriously happy. Motherhood has been the hardest work I've ever had to do; the hardest but the most rewarding. I feel like I'm in a position now where we've got the balance just about right, the juggling act of work and home life. I was proud as punch last weekend stomping around Glastonbury with my little boy, introducing him to the world that hopefully he'll grow to know and love. After all, it is our crazy world.