In January last year, I received the letter. You know, the one all women dread landing on their doorstep when they hit the grand old age of 25? I’d given birth six weeks earlier, so the thought of anybody poking around made me feel incredibly anxious. I was still ridiculously sore from my caesarean, and if I’m being totally honest, it was a bit of a mess down there. It was an enormous relief to me when I called to book an appointment, and was told by my doctor that my smear was being delayed for a couple of months, to allow me more time to physically recover from childbirth.…