Lying in the dim room without my husband's hand to hold, I felt so alone.
It was June 2020, and I was 20 weeks pregnant.
Because of COVID-19 restrictions, Justin wasn't allowed to come with me to hospital for the scan.
First the sonographer had taken ages moving the doppler over my belly, looking intently at the screen.
Then she'd fetched a doctor, and now he was looking grave, too.
‘Let's get your husband on the phone,’ he said.
With a deep breath, I clicked to video call and Justin's face quickly flashed up on the screen.
‘Everything OK?’ he asked.
‘You're having a baby boy,’ the doctor said.