Monday January 4th 2011 wasn’t really just any old Monday. It was the first Monday of the new year, the day we all dragged ourselves back to work after an over indulgent Christmas. The morning was dark and damp, and Mr G and I were tired as we had spent the weekend in London, as part of his Christmas present, watching football and having a romantic weekend away.
We had been married 6 months, and were hoping that we might be blessed with a mini-G anytime soon. We were trying to focus elsewhere, the house, having fun, but deep down we couldn’t wait for it to happen.
As we so often do in the excitement of a fresh new year beginning, that morning Mr G was full of ideas of getting fit and saving money, so he insisted on cycling to the station. ‘You’re mad’ I bantered with him, it…