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My teeny tot Daisy was no bigger than a Barbie...



The image on the screen looked more like a snow globe than my baby. ‘Is it a boy?’ I asked the nurse, squinting at the scan.
‘Nope,’ she smiled warmly. ‘You’re having a girl.’
‘Congratulations, love!’ grinned my mum Tracy Walls, 46.
‘But… but… I was sure it was a boy,’ I stammered. Still, that was just one more shock to get over.
After all, having been on the pill, I’d never expected to get pregnant in the first place.
I was only 21, and I knew having a baby would change everything.
But collecting the five-month scan pictures to take home, I felt a warm glow inside. ‘I’m going to be a mum,’ I grinned. ‘And I can’t wait.’
Me and Mum raided Mothercare, buying tiny leggings, tops, teddies and frilly bedding for the cot.
But just two weeks after my scan, pain ripped through my tummy. ‘They’re practice contractions,’ the midwife reassured me on her visit.
Over the next day, the pain got worse though. ‘Shall I call the midwife?’ I sobbed as Mum gave me paracetamol.
‘Let’s see how it goes,’ she soothed. Before long I’d spent three days in bed, trying to breathe through the pain.
‘It hurts so badly,’ I wailed.
‘I think we should get you to hospital,’ she said, driving me to the maternity ward at Queen Elizabeth Hospital, Woolwich.
‘I’ll just have a quick look,’ smiled the midwife.

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