‘Having a Baby at Forty-One!’ Her Husband Yelled at Nastya. ‘Women Your Age Are Already Grandmothers! Don’t Be Foolish, Nastya.’” – Children’s Books

**Diary Entry**

*Friday, 23rd June*

“Forty-one years old and wanting a babyhave you lost your mind?” Marks voice was sharp as he glared at me. “Most women your age are grandmothers! Think this through, Emily. Or I swear, Ill walk away.”

Twenty years weve been married. I was barely out of university when we tied the knot. All this time, I believed Mark was my rock, my safe harbour. Never imagined hed turn against me like this.

The row erupted when I told him I was expecting again. He was livid. “Weve got three sonsJames is at uni, and Daniel and Oliver are finishing secondary! What more do you want? People will think weve gone mad!”

I held my ground. “Ive always wanted a daughter. If this is fates gift, why refuse it?”

“And if its another boy? Will we keep trying for a girl?” Mark snapped.

The boys werent on my side either. The twins, Daniel and Oliver, refused to share their room. James said, “Mum, arent you scared? What if something happens?”

I reassured them, but doubt gnawed at me.

This wasnt the first time. When I was pregnant with the twins, money was tight. We lived with Marks parents, and his mother made life unbearableuntil the scan showed twins. Overnight, she gave us the deposit for our flat. The boys were calm babies, a blessing when James helped out.

This time, though, luck deserted me. By the third week, morning sickness hit hard. Id worked as a nail technician for a decade, but now the chemical smells made me retch. I had to quit.

Mark, a paramedic, took double shifts. James switched to evening classes, working days at an electronics shop. The disapproval in their eyes stung. Even my parents said it was reckless. The neighbours whispered when I passed.

At the scan, the doctor frowned. “A girl,” he said, then paused. “But there’s a neural tube defect. She may not surviveor shell be disabled.”

I refused termination.

Mark exploded. “Do you even know what that means? My brother died at six months from a heart defect. I wont watch another child suffer!” He packed his bags.

That night, Marks mother talked sense into him. “What if the scan was wrong?” she said.

The next day, he took me to a private clinic. The specialist smiled. “Perfectly healthy. Would you like to hear her heartbeat?”

We both cried.

Our daughter, Lily, arrived without complications. Even the sceptics came to meet her. Mark dotes on herhardly lets her out of his sight. The boys, once reluctant, now fight over who gets to push her pram.

Sometimes, the greatest blessings come wrapped in doubt.