I remember when my mum was pregnant with our last-born. I was about 8 years old then.
Her tummy never got very big throughout the pregnancy, so I had no idea she was pregnant, let alone close to giving birth.
The day she was rushed to the hospital, I was terrified and thought something terrible had happened to her. My dad later calmed us down and explained that she was fine and was simply going to have a baby.
When she eventually came back home carrying my little brother, it felt so strange to me. For the longest time, I would stare at him and wonder if he had been adopted because I couldn’t understand where he had suddenly come from.
As a child, it was genuinely hard for me to believe he was actually part of the family.