gay dads

Mothers day twist: Pugs and kisses

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“Daddy”

“Yes Wil”

“You know mothers day?”

“Yup”

“Can I send Aunty Lorna a card?”

“Of course you can Wil”

Now that might seem like a strange conversation to some…unless of course you’ve been following our story and then you’ll realise it’s not quite as odd as it seems.  You see our son Wil’s Aunty Lorna is actually his birth mother.

Being gay, my husband Ivan and I can’t have kids the usual way. I mean don’t get me wrong. We’ve tried and tried, but never quite succeeded….and that’s where my sister Lorna, AKA ‘our angel from above’, stepped in. Oh that sounds wrong on so many levels! But it’s not. Back in 2008 she offered to act as a surrogate for us. Wil was subsequently born in 2009 and the rest, as they say, is history.

Lorna never wanted more kids. She has two beautiful daughters of he own (they’d better thank me for saying that) and that was enough for her.  Lorna didn’t want any more of her own children, but she did want one for us! Completely selflessly Lorna was willing to go through god knows what to enable us to have a child. If that doesn’t make her an angel I don’t know what does. It certainly went some way to making up for how mean she was to me when we were little!!

When we started talking about the why’s and where fore’s one of the main discussion points was how we approached the situation around him knowing how he was created.  As I said, Lorna didn’t want another child of her own – as far as she was concerned he was going to be her nephew and she his Aunty. We were all comfortable with this. If it felt right for Lorna it felt right for us.  And that’s how it’s always been – Wil is just another of her many nephews. But we were never going to deceive him. We were adamant, and Lorna was in agreement, that Wil would always know where he came from and how he was made – age appropriately of course. Should Wil wish to identify Lorna as his Mum we would have to accept this. And, should it come to it, Lorna would have to accept that Wil may wish to identify as her child and she would have to have her door open to this possibility. Despite not wanting more kids. Of course she shared this view too.

I recently wrote a blog about the birth parents of our other children, who are adopted. I wrote about the support that  we would offer them, when the time came, if indeed it did, when they wanted to meet and form relationships with them. It was much the same with Wil and Aunty Lorna.

We can’t, won’t, never shall deny who she is or where he has come from. It’s part of his history. Part of what makes him Wil.

Wil knows her as Aunty Lorna – but is well aware that she’s his Tummy Mummy – that she carried him as a special gift to us….a baby that we wanted so much but couldn’t create without the amazing gift from Aunty Lorna.

Naturally we want to be the only ones that matter to him as parents, as with all of our children we want to be the ones that they need above all others. But I can’t deny, there’s always been a bit of a niggle at the back of my mind – that their relationship could overtake ours…insecurities slipping in. Then I kick myself and realise that it’s not something that I need worry about. Our children, each of them, know that they are our world. We love them above all else and nothing will come between that.  Part of that love though is accepting that we have a duty to encourage them to know where they have come from, even if that’s a little bit scary sometimes.  That’s my problem, not theirs. If it means that they form healthy relationships with significant others then I just need to suck it up and be confident in their love for us.

As kids have a habit of doing, Wil kind of simplified things for me.  I asked him if he wanted to make a special ‘Tummy Mummy’ card and he said no.  Just an ordinary mothers day card will be fine.  To him it’s a no-brainer. Let’s not complicate things. You’re my Dad’s. I’m lucky to have two Dads. Aunty Lorna’s my mother. It’s a simple fact.  It doesn’t matter to him how this happened or the why’s or where fore’s. He’s just content in the fact that he has two (great!) Dads and a lovely mother Aunty Lorna.

He astounds me all the time in his maturity and openness to life.  Wil I am so proud of you, we’re proud of you. I’m proud to call myself your Dad.  We must be doing something right.

So Wil, let me join you in wishing your wonderful Aunty Lorna a truly brilliant happy mothers day!  Thanks Lorna. Love you.

pugsandkissesCard

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Marie Claire: Lights, camera, action!

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Once Marie Claire had approached us to feature in an edition of their magazine we sat down as a family and debated whether to get involved or not. The brief they provided us with was that they were doing a segment on gay surrogacy. It was a hot topic again because Elton John and David Furnish had just had their baby using an American surrogate. To this day incidentally, we’re at a loss as to what happened to our invitation to their baby shower. Surely it must have got lost in the post or something? Elton if you’re reading this, no hard feelings. Anyway, Marie Claire assured us that the feature they were doing was a pro-surrogacy piece and that we would have full approval over the finished article.

We decided to do it. We’d debated long and hard but eventually decided enough time had passed that it was no longer sensational, or of interest to the tabloids. We also reflected back on the amount of good and positivity that the story had actually generated last time. A year on we were still getting messages from people, some of whom had gone on to be parents themselves, all as a direct result of seeing us have Wil. There’s something amazing about that. Something that fills me with pride and also generates hopes that society is changing and, that somehow, in a small way, we have been part of that. So, with that in mind we felt that our family being in such a glossy, mainstream magazine would help bring it to the attention of a different stream of people and also go some way to normalising it. After all being thought of as a normal family, as well as showing people that it could be done, was our ultimate goal.

Now I started to let myself get excited. We turned down a fee, asking only for travel expenses as we didn’t want to be out of pocket. Once we had decided to go ahead with the feature, Marie Claire wanted us there as soon as possible. Initially they wanted to come to our house. And we were tempted, we love where we live but we have 6 dogs and busy lives – we take shabby chic to a whole new level!  I just couldn’t face the idea of having to clean and tidy and make sure that everywhere was perfect. These photos were going to be in dentists’ waiting rooms across the country for god-sake. It had to be perfect.

We opted for plan two. Meet them at a shoot location in Southwark, London. How posh does that sound?

The one thing dampening our excitement was that Lorna was unable to make the date or time that Marie Claire wanted. They wanted to talk to her too but Lorna decided that if she couldn’t be there in person then she would rather just let it be about us. We were gutted that she couldn’t join us but she told us to go ahead anyway.

We took a trip to the shops and bought new outfits for us and Wil. I posted a picture the other day of Louis in the same shirt that Wil wore to the Marie Claire shoot. We had no idea at that time that our family would grow so much only a few years later.

The day arrived and excitedly we got on the train to London. When we arrived in London we were met by a car and driver. I can’t deny, I was like an excited schoolboy at his first disco. I had never been met by a car and a driver before! I decided straight away that I could get used to this. The car whizzed us from Waterloo station to the apartment that was going to be our home for the day. It was amazing. I could easily have had it as a weekend apartment, if I lived that sort of life. It was a loft/warehouse style building, with large, open-plan rooms beautifully furnished and it had a really homely feel to it. Up a set of ladders was also a magnificent roof terrace with the most stunning views across the city.

We were met there by the team from Marie Claire, led by the reporter doing our story, Andrea Thompson. Andrea introduced us to the photographer, stylist and others (who seemed to be there just to make tea, but who I am sure were an integral part to the day).  At first it all felt very unnatural, Andrea kept her distance whilst we all had our make-up and hair done. The photographer then followed us around the apartment and we were asked to play with Wil as though it was our home. They had provided some beautiful toys and props to use. We talked and played and laughed and tried to make it all look as natural as possible. Wil was amazing. He loved the fuss and attention he was getting from everyone. He was such a natural. Me on the other hand. I’m clearly a ‘proper’ man because I certainly can’t multi-task – you try smiling AND holding your belly in at the same time, I definitely failed at it!

The photographer was brilliant and literally took thousands of shots. When she was done with us it was time to be interviewed. We did this separately, one talked whilst the other entertained Wil. Andrea Thompson was clearly very good at her job. She was a senior reporter from Marie Claire and, when I googled her, I found that she had interviewed the prime minister a few weeks before. We were in good hands. Andrea had a great ability to make you feel relaxed enough to tell everything.

When the day had finished, and with us slightly on a media high, our driver conveyed us back to Waterloo station. As I stepped out of the car, onto the red carpet, Gerard took my hand. Oh shit! Mind wandering again. I think the media was going to my head. But actually, better than that, in a rare display of public affection, the real love of my life (sorry Gerard), Ivan, took my hand and together, with Wil, we departed London as a family united. The interview had clearly reminded Ivan what an amazing family we have.

We were more than happy with the final draft of the article.  And about 6 weeks later we received our copy in the post. There it was, we were in a glossy magazine! It was really fabulous. So well written and the pictures were just beautiful, despite my inability to hold my gut in.  Andrea had sent us a signed copy of the magazine, which takes pride of place in Wil’s memory box.

We definitely had no regrets about doing the article. It was done at the right time, for the right reasons. We felt also that by having no fee, we weren’t selling out. Hopefully it has changed at least one person’s mind about gays being dads, or shown them that they too could have a family if they want one. And if that’s the case, it was absolutely worth doing.

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And, in the spirit of complete honesty, I adored the fuss and attention that day. Such a stark contrast to the media experience we had been subjected to before. Maybe I could be in the spotlight after all…….

Pirate parties & Marie Claire

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After we moved into our new home, life became hectic and busy. Unfortunately for us, reality was biting us in the bum; we had to go back to work.
We are both serving Police Officers, and we carried on working full-time, at least initially we did.
We were lucky though, we found we had more angels in the family in the form of Ivans parents, or Nanny and Bampi as they are fondly known to the kids. It wasn’t merely by chance that they lived close by, we had after all moved back to where Ivan was born. The fact that we were so close however, was a godsend in the early days, still is in fact. Nanny and Bampi were more than happy to do all the childcare when Wil was young, and Ivan and my shifts overlapped.
Ivan’s parents had formed a really strong bond with Wil, very early on. Why wouldn’t they I guess. After all, he is the grandson that they never thought they would have, even in their wildest dreams. In turn, Wil adores his Nanny and Bampi and was more than happy to spend time with them. My thoughts were, and still are, that its healthy for kids to spend time with other, trusted, adults outside of the family home. We’ve found that rather than confuse our kids, its worked well to reinforce their attachment to us. And of course, it gives us a chance to work – or to have a break if we need it.
So, with a mix of working and the DIY that we had to do on the new house, the first year of Wils life simply flew by. Before we knew it we were planning his first birthday. Now this was a first for us, one of many that parenthood was bringing. We considered having a small, family affair, but quickly dimissed this idea. It had been a bloody brilliant year. A year filled with highs and lows, ups and downs. We deserved to celebrate. We also deserved to spoil not only Wil, but the amazing friends and family that had really proven their worth that year. We were going to party!
Ivan and Wil’s birthdays are only a few days apart, so we decided to combine the two and have an extended party – this has since turned into the Ponder-Sigston annual summer bash.
Planning a kids party was a whole new area of parenting that I hadn’t really thought about. But hey, surely I could call on my earlier mis-spent years partying for inspiration? I started planning and I loved it.
As many parents do, for our first party we opted for a pirate party, along with a bouncy castle. I took to the internet and started to order all manner of Pirate related items in preperation; from blow up Polly the Parrot to pirate flags, we had it all. And lets not forget the costumes. We didn’t make them mandatory, I hate that. But we certainly got into the spirit of it. We sent out about 100 invites to family and friends. We were looking at this as a chance to get together and really celebrate what had been an amazing year. We ordered in the BBQ food and started to prepare the buffet.
As the day drew closer I became increasingly nervous; would people turn up? Would they have fun? Would the sun shine for us? The joy of having a summer baby was, in theory, that we could make the most of the beautiful outdoor space we have and host the party in our garden. Would that really pan out?!
I woke the morning of the party to brilliant blue sky. I breathed a sigh of relief and with that all my concerns melted away. Our friends and family had more than shown us their outstanding qualities that year. They’d turn up and have fun. I just knew it.
I was happy to be proven right on that point straight away. As I wondered downstairs and into the top garden, I found Ivan’s nephew at the other side of the fence with a boat. He’d bought a bloody boat! Now that is really showing what a truly wonderful family we have. He had thought that we might need it for the party. He wasn’t wrong – between us we got it over the fence and into the garden. A few pirate flags and a fishing net and it was the perfect center piece to the party. We had just about got the last flags in place and the bouncy castle in and up, when the first guests started to arrive. They certainly didn’t let us down.
Wil and Ivan had a truly amazing day, in fact we all did. The sun shone, the kids played, the adults drank Ivans home-brewed Elderflower champagne. It was magical and a day that will always stay with me.
People drifted in and out throughout the day. Wil, having been utterly spoilt, he deserved it, was his usual easy self and went off to bed at about 8pm and straight to sleep. He must have been overflowing with the love and affection that he was shown by everyone that day. The party kids drifted home, happy, fed, and carrying the party bags they had earned from a treasure hunt.
The adults then partied until about 2am. Shattered as I was, I remember sitting on the decking with our amazing network of friends and family, slightly pissed, thinking just how perfect life was.
The media madness that had occurred a year before seemed a distant memory.
Our first party was a success! Another parenting point ticked off the list.

Ironically, it was only a short while later that we were approached by the magazine Marie Claire. They wanted to do a piece on us and our family. Unlike last time, this would be on our terms. Did we really want to stir up the hornets nest again though?

We had some serious thinking to do….

Media madness: A shock to the system

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You know, I always thought I’d enjoy being in the limelight; a focus of the newspapers and the TV. Who hasn’t??  In my imagination though it was to celebrate my acting prowess or promoting my first album. Neither of these were anymore likely than being asked on a date by Gerard Butler. Mmm, Gerard. Definitely a close second to Ivan. What I could do with Gerard…

Oops, sorry. Where was I?

Oh yes, media. Well I can’t act, and I sure as hell can’t sing, so I’d given up on the whole media attention thing many moons ago. Imagine my surprise,  horror in fact, to wake up a few days after Wils birth to discover we’d made the front page of The Sun.

We’d been warned by our legal advisor, Natalie Gamble, that the media loved a surrogacy story and that this one would be of particular interest to them. Natalie had advised us at the time that we either had to be very cautious, or embrace the media and approach them ourselves. We were unanimous that we had no interest in approaching the media. The decision for us to have a baby was a private one. To be shared with family and friends. The people that mattered.

If I’m honest, I don’t think we really believed that us having a baby would be of interest to anyone. Despite that however, we were very careful. We told close family and friends who we trusted only. We asked them to be mindful of what Natalie had said and to not share the news until we’d made it public. We told our work of course, we needed to make plans after all, but only on a need to know basis. We felt we’d done everything we could to keep things under wraps.

It was a couple of weeks before Wil was born that things changed a bit. At the time we lived in a detached bungalow in Southampton. The property was surrounded by 6′ fencing and was accessible by key coded gates only. Ivan walked out into the garden one day and was shocked to find a reporter stood in the back garden outside the door. The reporter said that he knew we were having a baby through a surrogate and that he wanted to tell our inspiring story. He said that he was there to give us that opportunity. Ivan saw red. This man had trespassed into our garden. Trespassed into our life. He was threatening what already meant the world to us. Ivan told the reporter to fuck off out of our garden, telling him we had no interest in selling ‘our story’.

You know. We still genuinely thought that there was nothing interesting in what we were doing. We were just having a baby for crying out loud. People do it every day, in every which way. Yes it was special to us and our families. But why the hell would anyone else be interested? Naively we thought that this would be the end of it. We worried for a bit, but when no article was forthcoming we thought that Ivan had scared him off.

A couple of weeks later to our utter delight Wil was born. Healthy. Happy. We were so ecstatic. The day Wil was born we slept for a few hours at Lorna’s. I say slept, but that’s not entirely accurate. Wil slept at the foot of our bed in a moses basket while we gazed on. We were so in love with him already. He was, is, perfect. When it was late enough in the morning to be able to sensibly leave we took Wil home. We knew we’d have to return the next day for a health check, but we just wanted to get home. Start family life as we meant to go on. It was so amazing walking into our home with Wil.  Introducing him to the dogs. To the house. To us. We cherished being able to enjoy our amazing new son without distraction. Probably selfish of us really, but we felt it important as a family.

The next day we headed back to Sussex. The health check went well. After that we wandered up to the registry office with Lorna to register his birth. It was a blissful couple of days. We were shattered from it all, god knows how Lorna must have felt, but though we were exhausted we were definitely floating on a high. After showing off our beautiful son to our family, Ivan and I headed home to Southampton.

The next morning I woke early. I checked the computer and saw I had a new message on Facebook. I didn’t recognise the name, so interested clicked on the message. “I have just read your story in the Sun and wanted to say what a wonderful thing you have done. All the best to you and your family.” I can still feel my heart sink. My pulse raced and my hands shook as I processed what the message said. I could feel the tears threatening to spill over as I started a Google search…

Gay Policeman have baby using sister as surrogate. The headline screamed at me from the computer. There was a picture of us with Lorna, when we’d registered Wil’s birth the day before, clearly taken with a telephoto lens. WTF! I could feel everything shaking as I read the article. It was detailed. They knew things that only a close friend could. Down to the colour we’d originally painted the nursery. We’d been betrayed. That’s what hurt the most.

I went downstairs to Ivan. I couldn’t hold in the tears as I told him what I’d found. He held me as I shook, the shock too much. Once we’d both calmed down we re-read the article. Ironically it was beautifully written. Pretty much spot on in terms of accuracy. It was very pro us and talked about what a joyous occasion it was. It even went into describing Ivans army service in Northern Ireland and a Royal Humane Society award he’d been awarded for saving a man’s life a few years earlier.  They had plenty of detail. We’d clearly been sold out. And that’s what we were finding most difficult to get over. We tortured ourselves trying to work out which of our trusted friends had betrayed us. And for what reason?  Money, greed, jealousy?  We couldn’t believe that any of them had done this to us, but there was no other explanation.

If we’d known the madness to come, I think we’d have made more of that day. Instead we ventured out only to buy a copy of the paper and then dwell on it. Sure, Wil counteracted this somewhat, but when he was sleeping I went back to worrying. I took to trawling the comments on the Suns website. I was heartened to see many congratulations included in the comments. Strangers wishing us the best. Then there was the dark side. The hundreds of people saying we were evil and selfish to bring a child into the world in the way we had. We were monsters that were cruelly bringing a child into our life when we knew he would be bullied and ridiculed throughout his life. One comment in particular stays with me; “How dare these selfish people be so selfish as to bring a child into the world knowing that he will be teased. I pity that they are so desperate. If they want something to look after they should get a pink poodle.” I was so angry. How dare they. I fucking hate poodles and can’t bear pink. But seriously,  it was one of many comments that really made me see what bigoted, narrow minded idiots there are in the world. I had to shut the computer down and go and hug our son. A son we bought into this world out of love and with serious consideration. Knowing that we could provide a home full of love, warmth and happiness and provide him with the tools to deal with the narrow minded bigots, that he would inevitably encounter, with strength and dignity and a quick jab to the throat if needs be.

After a sleepless night I again woke early the next day. This time it was the buzzer going off. I went to the gate and was gobsmacked to find reporters and photographers crowding the house. I just slammed the gate and went back indoors. They continued to shout over the fence and take photographs into the garden and the windows. It was madness. What the hell was going on. We’d just had a bloody baby for godsake. Leave us alone to enjoy it.  That day we had to visit the children’s center for them to weigh and check Wil over. We’d been really excited about this, but now we were just worried. We rang ahead to let them know in case they wanted us to avoid coming down. They were brilliant and said they’d lock the doors and for us to come on down. We got Wil ready and secured him in his car seat. As the electric gates opened to let us out of our garden the press crowded in. Their cameras bashed against the window and the flashes exploded in our faces. I tried to cover Wil’s face as Ivan edged out through the crowd. As we turned into the road and started to pull away we realised they were jumping into cars and following. We were being paparazzi’d for crying out loud!  It took all of Ivans driving skills, but he managed to lose them before we reached the children’s center. The appointment was amazing and the staff fantastic.

Unfortunately when we returned home the reporters were still there waiting. Calling. Hounding. In the end we had to call our colleagues in the Police to try and get them moved. It seemed to work for a while. The story had been taken up by all the local and national papers. In fact, in the weeks to follow we found out it had gone worldwide.

Our messages and email went crazy. We had offers from newspapers, magazines, television, radio. Lorraine Kelly wanted us on her show. C4 wanted to make a documentary on us. Lily Allen got in touch. Ok, that was cool. For 24 hours she was my friend on Facebook… And she added me I’ll have you know. I think my crazy messaging might have scared her off though as she disappeared from my friends list.

Truth is. We were offered thousands of pounds to sell our story. Trouble is. It wasn’t a story. It was our life. Our family. Our son. We turned it all down. We just weren’t interested. Sure, there was a certain temptation…great savings fund for Wil. But it felt wrong. If nothing else it would fuel the interest in the story and things were far too stressful to do that.

When we wouldn’t talk,  and the press were getting no joy from Lorna either, they started to hunt down our friends and family. Luckily no one else spoke to them. The fools even turned up at Ivans parents. The image of his dad chasing them down his driveway still sticks with me as though I was actually there! Priceless!

We had to start screening out the hundreds of horrible, nasty, threatening messages that were there. Instead we took strength from the many more messages that told us of the hope that we had given people. The hope that they too could have a family. People who said that until they’d read our story they had no reason to live. They didn’t want to be gay they wanted a family, but now they saw that both could go hand in hand. We heard from people all over the world. Messages that gave us strength and made us realise that good easily kicks bads butt. We never did find out which ‘friend’ sold our son out. I don’t care now. Thankfully, in the days, weeks and months that followed the press grew less interested. The story died but the change that had occurred and the hope that it had given people could never be changed.

The thing that makes us proudest of all is the realisation that, in one small moment, at 05:09hrs on 11/07/2009 our son William had made history. He was a first and that couldn’t happen again. He had changed the world for good without even knowing it.

Tummy Mummy…Time to Push

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pregnantSo now I was pregnant with a job and two daughters of my own and I was happy but a little bit nervous … not of pregnancy and birth, I loved both of my pregnancies, but of what people outside our supportive family and a few close friends would think. I made a decision early on to tell others like parents at the school that I was being a surrogate for my sister, not in any way through shame but through fear that the press would get hold of the story and hound us due to the fact that we were the first people in the UK to do this. My pregnancy went well with no problems at all.  Steven and Ivan, despite the distance, came to every ante natal appointment and scan, plied me with vitamins, and checked on me daily by phone.  They couldn’t have been anymore eo supportive or excited (at times I was glad they lived a couple of hours away or I’m sure Steven would have been a pain with his excitement if he lived nearer).

Once we knew we were having a boy and they chose the name Wil I used to talk to my tummy and explain that auntie Lorna was his tummy mummy and he had two special daddies waiting to meet him. when I went into labour we called the boys so they could come down to Sussex and be near enough to come quickly when labour was more progressed and bubbas arrival imminent. After a bit of a false start labour progressed well and the home birth I had decided on was going like a dream. When it got to the pushing stage I decided it was time for Steve and Ivan to come to the house but not in the room yet … I am quite shy and was not ready to loose all dignity. After several hours of pushing and walking up and down stairs and trying various positions it became clear that this baby was in need of a helping hand. The midwives went downstairs to tell the boys what was happening and arrange an ambulance. I was on my own and thought right you best get sorted out for hospital … just as I was trying to get up I had a massive contraction and pushed with all my might .. and Wil’s head was born. Too tired to even call anyone I just laid there for a few minutes and the midwife came in and shouted to the other midwife “stop the phone call we have a baby”. At that moment I just wanted Steve and Ivan there but the midwife wanted to get him safely fully delivered first.

Once he was born Ivan cut the chord and they held him it was a beautiful moment. As planned I kicked them out into the other room while the placenta was delivered and I got tidied up a bit .. then I got to have a cuddle with my beautiful nephew Wil … all 9lb6 of him … happy but tired xx

Tummy Mummy’s Tale

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lornaWhen I tell my story about being a surrogate for my brother and Ivan to friends, one of the questions I get asked a lot is how the conversation came up … if I’m completely truthful I can’t really remember as in the whole scheme of things that part of the story is insignificant. What is significant is that I said yes, obviously there was a lot of questions to be asked and plans to be put in place both personally and legally but once that was done the, uh hum, fun began.

After googling ‘artificial insemination at home’ the turkey baster and ovulation kit were purchased, and once said kit showed the correct two day window of opportunity I travelled to Steve and Ivan’s house. I think it’s true to say we were all a little awkward but after some rather boring small talk Ivan disappeared alone into the bedroom (I should add I made the decision to use my egg as it would just be wasted otherwise and it was that part of my brothers DNA, therefore we clearly couldn’t use Steven’s sperm) several minutes later Ivan put a cup of his sample in my room (in a pink spirit glass) and after half an hr I disappeared to inseminate myself with said turkey baster (without going into too much detail and embarrassing everyone .. it’s safe to say the practicality of the turkey baster was lost on me but all went technically well after an embarrassing to the chemist to purchase a syringe.

Waiting for the couple of weeks until I could take a test were awful and I was so excited to give “the boys” their first child that when the first two months produced negative tests I cried for hours. After the third month I knew I was pregnant … and took the test a few days early, even before I got the call from my little brother who was finding it very hard to control his excitement and anticipation. When the test came back positive we bundled straight into the car and drove an hour to the boys house and presented them with the test.

If I could frame that moment and look at it every day I’m sure I would never feel down again, it was amazing and emotionally exhilarating … we were having a baby – two men and a tummy mummy – and we toasted that moment with champagne in pink glasses!

xx