Sitting next to our children Charlie, eight, and Jessica, five, my husband James, 31, and I tried to prepare them for the moment when our family would change for ever.
I was a month away from having our third child. ‘When it’s time for me to have the baby, Daddy will take me to hospital, and then you can come and visit us,’ I explained, smiling.
The weeks sped by and my due date passed, but as the older two had both arrived late, I wasn’t concerned. Then on 26 February 2018, six days past my due date, I woke up with a dull ache in my lower back.
‘Nana might pick you up today,’ I told the kids, kissing them goodbye at the school gates. James’ mum Carol had…
