The year was 1986. September the 27th to be exact. I lay on a hospital bed spewing into a cardboard bucket whilst the midwives clucked around the bed. I knew what they were thinking. I knew they were judging. My belly moved up and down like a giant rock and fear gripped me harder than any contraction could. How did I get here? This wasn't supposed to happen. I'd had plans to leave home but not like this. University, air stewardess...anything but this. My new husband held my hand tightly as I pushed the boy into the world. He was huge and red and angry. I was just 17. And that was how it all began. The most challenging, horrific and wonderful story of my life.