Cradling our newborn son, Oscar, I was completely in love.
‘He’s absolutely perfect,’ I said to my boyfriend, Tim, 29.
We were over the moon, but after a traumatic labour I was grateful he was safe and sound.
After hours of pushing, doctors started using forceps, but nothing seemed to work and I ended up going into theatre for an emergency C-section.
The calm hypno-birth I’d planned had gone straight out the window, but thankfully Oscar seemed perfectly healthy, except for a little bruising on his forehead.
‘It’s probably from the birth,’ the midwife reassured us. ‘Nothing to worry about.’
