Imagine looking into an aquarium of tropical fish, the only distraction in a small waiting room. I’m holding Warren, my four-month-old baby, and I know that any minute someone is coming to take him and give him to his new adoptive parents.
‘It had been a wound that nothing could heal’
He holds out one chubby hand towards the colourful fish and smiles. Five minutes later, he’s no longer in my arms and that is my last memory of my baby boy – a memory that must last a lifetime.
As an unmarried mother with no help from family or Warren’s father, no flat, no job and no nursery place, I
