It’s just one month until our baby girl is due to arrive. The older children are so excited; they’ve been talking about what they’re going to do with her, who’s going to change her nappy, and how they’re going to play with her.

Tom is equally as excited, but today, after he’d taken photographs of my growing bump, he said,  “You’re nothing but a host for this baby. Once she’s born, I’m taking her away from you, to go and live with my family, and you’ll have nothing more to do with her.”  

The sanctuary that my body created for our precious baby has become an area under threat from the unlikeliest of sources – her own Dad. My role as protector has increased much more than it should ever have to.

Tonight I came up with a plan.

If he intends to take her from me, and sees me as nothing more than the host, then it is my job to ensure that I stay hosting her for as long as possible.

I can’t keep her in my womb any longer than she wants to be there, but I can make her need me in other ways. I always planned to breastfeed her, but now I’m determined to succeed like never before. I’ll breastfeed her for as long as possible – years if necessary – and I’m going to sleep her in our bed, instead of the crib we’ve prepared. If I can teach her to be dependent on me, and only me, for food, sleep and comfort, then hopefully he will see that taking her from me would make his life extremely difficult.

I know this is an unhealthy way to raise a child, but right now it feels like the only way. I’m just hoping it will work, and I’m praying that he won’t steal her away from me anyway.