I'd wanted a family since I was a school girl myself. Most days I used to come home from school aged 8 and ¾ and skip over the road to help look after the younger children opposite. I always assumed that by the time I was 30 I would be living my fantasy: a married full time mum with three children; up to my elbows in fingerpaint, bowls to lick clean and wellies tumbling around the front door. I fell into infant school teaching and whilst the job proved too all consuming for me it ticked my ever increasing broody box.
As the years flew by I never met the right man. A career change or two and some serious travelling later I still hadn't found him. I'd had some amazing experiences, built up an impressive portfolio of dinner tales, memories and amusing date stories but still yearned for Mr Right for Me and the family life.
By my late thirties I was the last single girl amongst my friends. Some of my closest girlfriends had teenage children and were on their second husbands and I hadn't pulled off one marriage! Family occasions were becoming more difficult for me as gradually all my siblings had families one way or another. I was becoming fed up of being everyone's favourite auntie, I wanted my own family.