"I wanted to be a full-time mother . . .but I hadn't reckoned on falling out of love with my husband as a result. The night my husband last touched me as if he really loved me, I was in labour. He was stroking my back, rubbing my shoulders, urging me on.
'You’re doing really well, sweetheart. Come on.' It was a moment of perfect intimacy – one that characterised our relationship. Jamie and I had been together five years, and probably sickened friends with our obvious happiness: the way we held hands in public; the way we listened to each other, instead of bickering like other couples. It was a marriage – nine months old exactly on this cold winter’s night – seemingly made in heaven.
Then the warm hand left my back. He was no longer at my side. I heard a baby crying ... and that was it. That was the night we lost each other. I have been in mourning for our marriage ever since. "