My mum died when I was eight months pregnant with my son. Similar story - cancer, 18 months after diagnosis but we went from remission to end stage to dead in five days. Having helpful wardies direct you out of oncology and toward maternity is a cruel irony. Being enormously pregnant, absolutely irate and ordering nurses to give your mother everything she's charted for so her writhing agony ends ... sucked. Holding your mother's hand as blood froths from her mouth, runs from her nose and she gasps for air - harder. Watching her suffering end - better, but also worse. And - the ultimate introduction to being responsible for being responsible for someone else's life.

My mum would have loved my son. He is a terror and a delight -two now, beautiful and strong. He's my sunshine.