TINY FIGHTER

Lying in bed, I could barely lift my head off the pillow.

At five months pregnant, I’d come down with a nasty cold, so I knew I needed to take it easy.

At the beginning, I’d had the perfect pregnancy, but this cold had knocked me for six.

Constantly tired and dizzy, I knew I was in for a rough ride.

I feel awful, I text my fiancé, Derek, 32, who was at work.

Why don’t you ring the doctor? he quickly replied, worried as always.

Drifting in and out of sleep and with a pounding headache, I decided to take his advice.

Booking myself in for a doctor’s appointment, I dragged myself and my growing bump down to the surgery later that day.

‘I think we should send you to the maternity unit just to make sure everything is OK with the baby,’ the doctor said.

He seemed so calm and gave me