I arrived at my nannie Betty’s house to take her to bingo and found her knitting baby clothes.
‘When the time comes, this one’s for you,’ she said.
I plastered on a smile and said: ‘Thanks Nannie.’ But inside my heart ached because try as a I might, I couldn’t fall pregnant.
It had only happened once since my husband Brian and I had started trying.
I’d excitedly rushed out and bought a toy with a cuddle blanket attached.
But at 11 weeks, I’d suffered a miscarriage, which left me devastated.
Since then, I’d cried endless tears into that cuddle blanket as my period arrived like clockwork each month.
We’d been for tests, but they hadn’t found anything wrong. The doctor had suggested IVF.
But because Brian already had kids from a previous relationship the NHS wouldn’t pay for it and we couldn’t afford it ourselves.
So, we’d just decided to keep trying. ‘If it happens, it happens,’ Brian said.
Although I didn’t like to talk about it, my mum Jean and sisters Angela and Anna all knew.
Nannie did too, and I think the two big bin liners of little jumpers, hats and toys she’d already made for me were her way of saying she still believed it would happen eventually.
Hope in knitted form. But time passed and still, nothing happened.
Now, Nannie’s health began to deteriorate. She moved in with Mum so she could look after her.
Nannie had always loved going to the bingo, but even that became too much.
When she was up to it, we’d hook the laptop up to the telly and play online.
Mum would get her a couple of scratchcards from Tesco too.
Whenever any of us went over, she’d ask us to check if she’d won, but she never had.
Then one day, Mum called me at work.
‘You’ll never guess what’s happened,’ she said. ‘Nannie’s won £5,000 on a scratchcard!’
‘You’re kidding,’ I replied.
None of us could believe it, least of all Nannie herself!
When I went over later, she showed me the winning £2 Monopoly scratchcard.
‘I’m going to share the winnings between you, your mum and your sisters,’ she said.
‘Thanks Nannie,’ I said, hugging her. I’d been desperate to get a puppy, so I thought I’d use my share for that.
But a few days on, Mum rang and asked me to go round.
When I got there, Nannie said: ‘We’re giving you all the money so you can have a baby.’
‘What?’ I said, in shock.
She explained that my sister Angela had suggested it when she and Anna had visited Nannie earlier.
‘We’ve all agreed it’s what we want,’ Mum said.
I was so overwhelmed, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
‘Thank you,’ I said. I called my sisters to thank them too.
Then I broke the good news to Brian. He was thrilled.
We found a clinic in Manchester and seven months after Nannie’s big win we had an embryo implanted.
I was supposed to wait two weeks to do a test. But worried it hadn’t worked, I took one on my own in the loos and Morrison’s two days early.
I couldn’t believe it when it turned positive.
Back home, I handed Brian the test and said: ‘I’m sorry, I’ve done it. It’s positive.’
Thankfully, he wasn’t cross at all. ‘That’s amazing!’ he replied, hugging me.
I went straight over to Mum’s to tell her and Nannie.
By now Nannie was very frail. She’d been in and out of hospital and doctors had told us she might not have long left.
But when I told her the good news, she laughed and clapped her hands. ‘That’s wonderful,’ she said.
A few weeks on, Brian and I went to the hospital my first scan. Seeing our baby for the first time was amazing.
I took a little video on my phone to show Nannie. ‘That’s the baby’s heartbeat,’ I told her and she smiled.
Two days later, Nannie fell unconscious and we knew the end was near.
She held on for another four days then slipped away peacefully. Mum had sent me home to get some sleep, so I wasn’t there when Nannie died.
But I went in to see her. ‘I love you, Nannie,’ I said, giving her one final cuddle.
A week before, I’d given her the little teddy and cuddle blanket I’d bought before the miscarriage. I thought she might find it comforting.
She’d died with it in her hand.
I was so glad we’d been able to tell her I was pregnant and that she’d seen the baby’s heartbeat.
But I felt sad that she wouldn’t get to meet my little one.
At her funeral soon after, tears rolled down my face as the celebrant told everyone what Nannie had done to help Brian and I. She’d always been so kind and generous and this baby was her legacy.
A few weeks on, I had another scan and we found out we were expecting a girl.
‘Let’s call her Betty-Ellen after Nannie,’ I said.
‘Great idea,’ Brian replied.
Over the next months, my pregnancy continued to progress well. I loved seeing my bump growing.
Betty-Ellen was due in January. But I had a feeling she was going to come early so we could all end what had been a difficult year with something positive.
A few days before Christmas, my blood pressure started to go up and I felt dizzy.
I went back and forth to the hospital a couple of times and was about to be induced when my waters broke and I went into labour.
Brian was by my side as Betty-Ellen arrived weighing 7lb 1oz.
By then, I was bleeding heavily and she was having breathing problems and had to be whisked away.
But a few hours on, once they’d sorted us both out, I finally held our longed-for little girl for the first time. She was absolutely perfect.
‘We’ve got your great nannie to thank for you,’ I told her.
Just as I’d predicted, she’d arrived early so we could end the year on a high.
Betty-Ellen is 15 months now and everyone says she’s the absolute spitting image of Nannie.
Having her to focus on has helped us all cope with our grief, especially my mum, who Betty-Ellen calls Ninnie.
I’m thankful every day to Mum, my sisters and especially my wonderful nannie for giving Brian and I the money to pay for our IVF.
When Betty-Ellen is old enough I will tell her that her great nannie’s scratchcard windfall gave us the most precious gift we could’ve asked for – her.
She’s the result of a lotto luck and a lotto love – and that’s a winning combination!