Gill’s little girl clearly didn’t want to be born in a hospital...
Lying on the sofa watching The Dark Knight, I felt like a beached whale. It was February 2016, and I was nine months and four days pregnant, feeling ready to burst!
‘Come on little one, it’s time to come out now’, I whispered.
On maternity leave from my job as a support worker, I’d tried hot curries, hot baths, pineapple… every old wives’ tale in the book.
But this little mite was clearly very stubborn – even before she was born!
My partner Scott Robinson, 26, had put the film on to take my mind off my back pain. It wasn’t working, though. At last, at 11.30pm, my contractions had started…
By 1am I called our midwife at St Mary’s Hospital, Manchester. ‘What shall I do?’ I asked. ‘If your contractions are only six minutes apart and lasting 30 seconds, then you should stay at