Tyres screech outside our modest home, announcing Michael's return. From the sound of the screams of rubber against rubble, I can tell he is in a foul mood. Mere seconds pass before the front door slams shut and heavy footsteps pace our home looking for me. I'm starting to become surprised the door hasn't torn from its hinges the way Michael treats it.

"Amelia? Where are you?"

I take a deep breath. I can do this. Michael was so excited the last two pregnancies, so he'll be just a overjoyed this time. Right? I call out to him, letting him know I'm sat on our bed. The white sheets are crinkled beneath me, evidence that I've hardly left since this morning. My hair is a mess, shoved up in a bun with tendrils falling either side of my face. I stopped crying around an hour ago, so I'm pretty confident the puffiness has reduced significantly.

The sound of Michael's footsteps becomes much louder as he gets closer to our room. His breathing is fast, almost like he ran to get here from work. I bit my lip, hoping for a good outcome. One that doesn't involve screaming or shouting. One where I don't anger him to the point of being at the receiving end of his vicious mouth or his fists. His head leers around the door frame. He smiles shyly; the very smile that I fell in love with all those years ago. He walks over, gentle strides before sitting next to me. I can't speak and so I simply hand him the positive test. A confused look spreads on his face momentarily.

"How? What?"

I can't help myself as I giggle, hearing my own thoughts verbalised makes me feel a little less alone. He's looking at me, head titled as though he's trying to gage my reaction to the news. I simply shrug my shoulders and look down. Large, calloused hands envelop my own. His thumb strokes my palm.

"We can do this. It won't be like the others. We'll take it easy this time," his promise does very little to ease the fear that has been sitting on my stomach since this morning, but I nod nevertheless. He pulls me in close, taking a deep breath as we simultaneously fall back onto the mattress.

Taking my chin in his hands, Michael turns my face to look at him.

"I mean it Mil, we've got this." This time I don't flinch as he leans in to kiss my forehead. Little baby, maybe you are just what mummy and daddy need right now.