On the morning of Saturday 25 August 2012, my husband, Tony, took a photo of me in my nightie, proudly showing off my bump. I was 38 and after five miscarriages and losing one baby in what had started as a twin pregnancy, this little life had clung on and I had reached 26 weeks.
My blood pressure, which my GP had asked me to monitor, was very low, so instead of going on a long walk as normal, I took my husband breakfast in bed and started reading the papers.
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Continue reading...from Pregnancy | The Guardian http://ift.tt/2jeUBHe
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