No no, unless Lyla’s medical knowledge extends further than the CBeebies stethoscope she uses I am definitely NOT expecting again… this week’s title is the name of my latest piece of writing.

I was recently approached by author Charlie Plunkett to think of a contribution for her fantastic new book, ‘100 Little Words on Parenthood.’

As the name suggests, each story had to be 100 words exactly- no more, no less.  After Charlie asked me to be part of her project I wondered how on earth I could cram all my feelings on motherhood into a few paragraphs… but that was what made it such a brilliant task.

Here is the final edit …

After months of anticipation, the pregnancy test is positive. The bump steadily grows and so does our giddy excitement.

In my 24th week we receive a worrying prognosis. “I’m terribly sorry, but you are in the very early stages of labour.” A blur of steroid injections follow. The wait for news feels endless. Then, hope.

Lyla Rose is born at 42 weeks, the most beautiful bundle I could have imagined. Sleepless delirium and post-birth trauma pales into insignificance. I miss her when she is asleep and she completes me when she is awake. Being a mummy equals heaven on earth.