Battling with broken armour
Breathing through the pain, I looked up at my husband Kevin, then 37.
It’s too early,’ I gasped between my contractions.
It was September 2015 and I was a month away from my due date.
Only, our little girl had decided to come early. And despite my worries about her premature arrival, I couldn’t wait to meet her.
The pregnancy had been a dream. Every scan had gone to plan and I’d loved looking at the printouts, imagining our girl’s cute button nose, her chubby arms and legs.
Now, we were ready for her to
