Waking up to the warm Florida sunshine one morning in October 2016, there was something I had to do first.
Heading straight to the bathroom, I tore the wrapping off the smooth, flat stick.
Hovering over the toilet, I prayed it was finally time.
My period was due yesterday, I reasoned with myself.
Me and my husband Michael, 35, had been trying for a baby since January 2016 and I sadly suffered a miscarriage at just seven weeks, six months prior.
I hadn’t realised quite how badly I wanted to be a mum until I met Michael.
Falling in love on a film course at Full Sail University, Florida, it wasn’t long before I realised I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Michael, and we tied the knot after our graduation back in May 2011.
Since my miscarriage I was testing every month and tracking my periods, desperate to find out if I was pregnant.
So, when I saw the two
