My Big Promise

Cassie couldn’t let history repeat itself

It was Boxing Day 2013 and I was about to make a very big promise.

To our brand new baby boy, Arthur.

‘I am going to be the best mummy I can possibly be,’ I said, holding him for the very first time.

‘You already are,’ my fiance Paul, 33, said and kissed us both.

Over the next few weeks and months, Arthur learned to smile and giggle.

He loved being tickled, he loved being on his mat, he loved his cuddly toys…

But not as much as me and Paul loved being parents.

Little Arthur was our everything.

Still, something niggled. How could I ever live up to my promise? Was I a walking time bomb?

Growing up, I was really close to my dad Neil. He was full of life and laughter.

But then, when I was just 15, he’d died.

It felt sudden at the time. Although, looking back, we probably should have expected it.

Dad had been a big eater, had a good old belly on him.

Then, when he was 42, he’d had a massive heart attack.

I was devastated.

My hero was gone. And because he’d died so young, he’d missed out on so much. Especially on Arthur.

He’d have loved his little grandson, but would never get to meet him.