Me and my husband Byron, 33, lay side by side in the darkness. We were silent, but Byron’s hand tenderly stroking my baby bump over and over spoke volumes.
‘I’m scared,’ I said.
Byron’s hand didn’t falter for a moment, remaining lovingly on my belly.
‘Me too,’ he admitted.
We’d had some terrible news that day last July, had discovered our unborn baby boy had a severe birth defect.
‘There’s a tiny bump on baby’s forehead, about a centimetre wide,’ a doctor had told us.
They hadn’t known what it was at first, asked me to go back for fortnightly scans.
But at each one, the bump on our baby’s head had grown bigger.
Terrifying.
Now, just a few weeks before our baby was due to be born, Byron and…
