Hearing a knock at the door, I opened it to see my son, Oliver, then 18, with a big soppy grin on his face. Before I could say anything he blurted out an announcement. ‘You’re going to be a grandma,’ he beamed.
‘Oh my God!’ I shrieked, tears of happiness forming in my eyes.
It was Autumn 2020, and as we were mid-pandemic I couldn’t even hug him, but as his dad, Rob, then 48, came to the door to join in the celebration, we all chatted away with excitement about the new arrival.
We were so happy for Oliver. Yes, he was young, and some mums might not have been so thrilled that their teen was going to be a
