With everything but the kitchen sink, I wheeled the pram along the street.

Ensuring that my newborn Rebecca was comfortable as we ran our errands was my top priority as a mum.

Peering down at her, she was the spit of me and my partner Avery, now 35 – with rosy cheeks, perfectly tinted lips and soft brown hair.

She was the cutest baby that I had ever seen – and I wasn’t the only one that thought so.

‘Oh, isn’t she sweet. How old is she?’ a stranger asked me.

I wasn’t sure how to answer.

‘She’s a newborn,’ I stuttered.

I didn’t know how to