It was tough, every month waiting and hoping, hoping for the positive result. Hoping for some good news. It has been nearly six years and we’ve been trying to have a baby. But it wasn’t meant to be. I would take the test and usually came out defeated. Not this month, perhaps next month, we’d be lucky. And so it carried on. Until we said OK we’re giving up, we just have to accept that we won’t be able to start a family. That it would be just the two of us. We planned for our lives together. We planned for some holidays. We joined the gym, we started cycling and walking. Life couldn’t be happier. Until the time we flew to Britain for holiday. I was sick, I thought it was just the turbulence. Then I just realised I haven’t had my period for quite some time, so I took the pregnancy test. To our big surprise – it was positive. I was pregnant. Such great feeling, to be pregnant without really thinking about it, without being worried about it. Great! Then he arrived, a premature baby, but we didn’t mind. He’s ours, he’s our big surprise! Now, he will be 24 in two months’ time and he’s getting married this year, too.