I’m the runaway bride!

Looking down at the sparkling ring on my finger, I couldn’t stop myself crying.

‘I can’t wait to marry you,’ Steven, then 42, beamed at me. It was June 2011 and after nearly three years of dating, Steven had just proposed.

My daughter, Abby, then 11, and Steven’s son, eight, were delighted for us, and as I was three months pregnant, we had even more reason to celebrate.

Only, as a flurry of friends and family called to congratulate us over the next few weeks, a sinking feeling hit me. I’d already put on 2st during my first trimester, and looking down at my belly, I sighed at the thought of going