AS I GAVE BIRTH MY HUSBAND WAS DYING

Every second counted as Nicola Kinloch, 35, rushed her newborn baby to her husband's bedside

watching my partner Brett slope up the stairs, something seemed off. I'm just going for a lie-down,' he sighed. It was Christmas Day 2014, and even though we'd had a hectic time with our baby daughter Freya, two months, going for a nap wasn't like Brett at all.

Both PE teachers at the same school, we leant on each other for advice, and our relationship blossomed. Calm and collected, Brett got along with everyone he met, and I adored his laid-back attitude.

Seeing him suddenly so tired seemed strange. A few days later, Brett collapsed at home. I'm sure it's nothing," he said. But when his GP sent him for an MRI scan a few weeks later in January 2015, the terrifying truth was revealed. Brett had a cancerous brain tumour, and a biopsy confirmed that he would need surgery to remove it. But even with surgery, the usual prognosis for the cancer Brett had, a grade 4 glioblastoma, was just one year. It felt like our whole world was crumbling. 'We can get through this,' Brett reassured me. He was always so rational and brave, but I was petrified.

A few weeks later, Brett had surgery, but it failed to stop the tumour growing. We travelled to Germany for more treatment, followed by more surgery back in the UK. The op had left Brett partially paralysed on his right side but, ever determined, he taught himself to walk again and write with his left hand. He even went back to work as the head of PE.

In March 2016, after six weeks of radiotherapy and six months of chemo, we finally received good news. Brett's scans were clear. I sighed with relief. There was no guarantee the tumour wouldn't come back, but for now, we could concentrate on being a family, and set a date for our wedding two months later, in May 2016.

DEFYING THE ODDS