As a single mum with a full-time job, organising my daughter's baptism was something I kept putting off, consoling my growing guilt with the thought that I had plenty of time.
But 15 months after her birth, it dawned on me that I'd better get cracking before she was too big for the priest to hold, let alone old enough to remember that mummy handed her over to a strange man who then proceeded to pour cold, albeit holy, water over her head.
So, I bit the bullet, decided on a date and informed family and friends here and overseas that my daughter would finally be christened. Then, I rang the church.
'Hi, I'd like to make a booking for my child's baptism,' I said.
'Sure,' they replied. 'How old is your child?'
'Um, 15 months,' I said, hoping they hadn't suddenly changed the rules and set a cut-off age for christening.