I could never imagine myself with my own little family, ‘The clock is ticking, don’t leave it too long’ and ‘one day you’ll change your mind’ is what people would say when I told them that I did not want children. It was only a few years ago that I was adamant I never wanted to have any.
That was until I met Trevor, a Cornishman, who quickly become my soul mate. When we first got together, we was completely inseparable. We would spend as much time together as possible and chat endlessly on the phone when we was apart. It was clear very early on that whilst being from completely different backgrounds, we was in fact a perfect match.
Only five months into our relationship, we decided that we wanted to live together and soon after I relocated from east London to Newbury. We had also discussed the possibility of a future with children.
In May of 2014, we travelled to Paris for our 1st anniversary where Trevor got down on one knee and asked me to be his wife, much to my complete surprise. We had discussed marriage before but his proposal came completely out of the blue. Without any hesitation, I said yes although before checking that he had sought my dad’s permission. Of course he had, Trevor is perfect.
On returning home, the excited bride-to-be that I was, I began to collate ideas for my, I mean our, perfect wedding. Until… my period was late. No way, I could not be, right? Further days past and still nothing. I told Trevor and he just smiled. We decided it best that I took a pregnancy test without delay and boom, two lines appeared immediately. I just broke out into a grin and my whole body immediately shook with excitement. We both just cuddled, didn’t say a thing for what seemed forever. We felt no anxiousness or doubt, it was meant to be.
I was very lucky and did not experience any nasty pregnancy symptoms. The weeks flew by and all the tests came back fine. The scans, the kicks and the hiccups just filled us with love and we could not wait to hold our little baby and to become parents. Even if that meant growing up. We chose not to find out the baby’s gender. Why spoil the surprise? We decided to call my bump Lily, as Trevor had been calling me Pickle recently.
At week 30, the day after bringing home the buggy (you know how the old wives’ tale goes), I noticed blood in the bath when showering. It took me a few seconds to realise just what was happening but only a millisecond to go from calm to crazy. I literally screamed the house down, ‘get that buggy out of my house!’.
I was alone in the house at the time and everything happened in slow motion. Trevor cycled home in record time and it wasn’t until we was in the ambulance flying down the M4 that I felt the baby kick. I just sobbed and at that very moment, I realised just how much I wanted and needed my baby. Nothing else mattered but my family.
The rest of my pregnancy dragged and I was anxious the whole time. Soon enough, at week 39, my last day at work had arrived, a whole year off I thought, I couldn’t wait, the past few months had been tough going. For the next week I hoped that I would go into labour straight away, I killed time by scrubbing the floors, cleaning out all the kitchen cupboards and cleaning the windows but nothing worked. Not even the suggested pineapple, curry or nookie.
On Jan 28th, now eight days late, I had given up and finally decided that the baby would come when it wanted to. Why rush a good thing? I was sat minding my own business on the birthing ball, when I felt a tingle in my tum. I thought nothing of it as I had been having Braxton Hicks quite bad. About twenty minutes later, I was making myself a cuppa when it happened again. The penny dropped and it looked like I was about to too…
You can read about Jack’s birth story here.