I had taken a few risks along the way too, having unprotected sex in the middle of my cycle, then watching and waiting for the slightest sign of a pregnancy or a period symptom, wondering whether, if I was expecting a baby, I could give it a go with the father; if maybe there was a chance for us. But no pregnancy had come.

Curious to know about my fertility, I undertook tests which revealed, at the age of 35, that I had a low egg count. When I’d asked my gynaecologist how he thought it would affect me, he’d said brightly: ‘The best way of finding out is to get on with it!’ Noticing the silent tears appear in my eyes, he’d then asked: ‘Have you ever been pregnant?’ He had touched a very raw nerve.

‘Once,’ I’d replied quietly. ‘I had an abortion, a long time ago.’

‘Well that’s good news,’ he’d said optimistically. ‘I suggest you keep trying, and it will happen.’

I had never seen my abortion as ‘good news’.

I felt a despair and loneliness that the years since the abortion had failed to completely shift. When friends all around me had seemed to be gleefully falling in love, getting pregnant or talking about starting a family, I had withdrawn from socializing with them. Friends were easy to lose, it seemed. As time had passed, I had begun to think more and more about the person who got me pregnant when I was 19. I had viewed him through rose-tinted glasses and still wondered how different life might have been if I’d told him the truth, instead of ending our relationship. Would we have kept the baby? Would we still be together now, as a family?

But today, finally pregnant again, at last I felt able to make up for lost time with Katie. I listened with renewed interest – plus a mix of trepidation and awe – as she recounted her birth story, wondering what my experience would turn out to be.

‘Anyway, I’d better go back into the group, we’ll be starting again in a minute.’

‘Keep me posted,’ she commanded.

‘I will.’

This time I didn’t return to my usual seat, I deliberately sat next to Aisha.

Chapter Eight

Aisha

Sunday 2^nd May

I had a dream last night that Jason missed the birth.

It was just before the baby arrived. I had gone into labour, but I couldn’t find him anywhere. I searched frantically around the house, panting as my contractions got more severe. Barely able to stand on my feet, I called him endless times, but he didn’t pick up. I called our mutual friends and family, and some of his colleagues, begging them to help me track him down, but no one could find him. I panicked that maybe something had happened to him. Finally I called an ambulance and I could hear its siren whirring down the street coming closer and closer to our house to take me to hospital. I was all alone…